#Power Blue Splat

[unofskylanderspages]

The Power Blue variant was a uqiue variant to SSC that was sonsered by Autism Speaks, and only given to Splat and Double Dare Trigger Happy (along with their vehicles.)

This makes it the worse variant, why?

Splat and DD.Trigger Happy, with the implied autism with them being both Power Blue, are the two most STRONGLY present stereotypes for the autistic community.

Splat: Very intelligent, gifted individual, but also outcasted by her people for her special interest until it befits them. Very verbal. (Think gifted child), and humanoid.

Trigger Happy: Non-verbal, talks in mostly babbles, hyperactive, non-humanoid, very prone to violence. Crazy.

Would have this been a problem if it wasn't just them? Maybe not. Then again… considering Autism Speaks (even at the time) agent towards shunning the Autistic community and eraticate them….

Not such a good thing…

[splatchatblog]

Happy May! 🌸 / Happy June! 🌊/ Happy July! 🎆/ Happy August! ☀️

From left to right:

‘All That (2019) - Summertime

Blue’s Clues & You! - Mother’s/ Fathers/ Siblings/ Grandparents Day

Rugrats in Paris ( 2000 Movie) - Mothers Day

Rocket Power - Independence Day/ Forth of July

The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius- Father’s Day

Kenan & Kel - Graduation Day

The Brothers Garcia - Cinco De Mayo/ Summertime

[cherry-leclerc]

greed ☆ op81

genre: smut, affair, erotic literature, angst, forbidden romance, enemies to "lovers", a bit angst/yearning, established relationships, voyeurism

word count: 16.4k

greed (noun) — intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or food.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...pwp, unprotected sex, missionary, riding, fingering, f!receiving, deep throat, m!receiving, finger sucking

inspired by red sex (re-strung) [rakhi singh]

cherry here!...had fun writing this one teheee. it's a long one, so definitely take breaks in between and enjoy. missed you guys!

Twirling your tongue around the bright pink straw, you blink blankly, quietly taking in the conversation that occurs in front of you. You should probably talk a bit, you remember thinking. Smile, at least, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to lie—you didn't want to be here.  

“I thought you hated pineapple?” 

Turning, you shrug half-heartedly over at Lando. “It makes my mouth itch,” you mumble, not enjoying a single sip of the smoothie. Well, except for the whipped cream. Taking a lick, your eyes stay connected onto his blue ones as he shakes his head. 

“Don’t drink it, then,” he tries, but you simply turn a blind eye, facing the complete opposite direction. From where you're sitting, you spot a group of kids playing jump rope. Even when one of them falls with a loud splat and starts to cry, you continue to stare.

“Oh no,” a soft voice gasps.  As soon as you hear it, you grind your teeth, hearing a slight crack immediately. “Poor baby.”

You like to think of yourself as an even person. Everyone who enters your life deserves a fair chance. You’ll get to know them—befriend them, perhaps—and if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but no one can say you never tried.

But oh, how you hated Lily Zneimer.

The worst part of all is that there isn’t really a single reason for your sudden distaste towards her. On paper, you two should be the best of friends, but the one thing holding you back is sitting right in front of you.

Oscar clicks his tongue, a nice tick coming through as his sharp brows raise with surprise as he watches the scene unfold. He, too, sort of remains as stoic as you, but the one difference is that he has a bit more empathy. You lack a lot of that, you’ll be the first to admit. 

The cries continue, the young boy's parents suddenly alert by now as they run towards their child. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he says, squinting his eyes due to the bright sun. “It builds character.”

“Getting hurt?” Lily asks, frowning as she gently shoves his shoulder. “You really do have a heart made of ice.”

This gets a snicker out of your boyfriend, making you sigh, instantly checking out, but Lando is as happy as can be. While he enjoys the moment, you lack interest in it, and if it weren’t for the fact that the Australian was the one that invited you both out for drinks, then you would have happily been tucked away in bed. Make good use of the hotel perks and whatnot. 

The brown eyed driver swings a hand behind his girlfriend's chair, playfully tugging her hair, making her blush and making you recoil with disgust. Not that you ever show it, but you definitely feel it. “Maybe I do, but only you can make it melt.”

That’s enough to call it a day. Standing abruptly, the chair squeaks against the pavement as you share a tight lipped smile. All at once, their eyes look up at you as you force a yawn. “I think I’m going to head up now. Thanks for the invite,” you say. 

Lily pouts subtly, blue eyes round and hazy. “So soon? It’s still early.”

You nod, sparing her small smile, but deep within, the sound of her sweet voice begins to irritate you to the point you think you might snap. “The sun’s got me tired. I just need to lay down a bit.” Leaning forward, you peck Lando’s cheek, warm and sandy. “But I'll see you later, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she squeaks, waving numbly as they watch you walk away—practically fleeting, really. Humming sadly, the British girl looks down onto her lap, toying with her bracelets. “I don’t think she likes me much,” she mutters, wincing sheepishly. 

Oscar frowns. “That’s not true…”

Lando frantically nods, feeling bad for Lily and her first encounter with you being a total bust. Come to think of it, ever since the blue eyed girl has been around, you’ve been quite distant. “She hasn’t been sleeping well.” Lie. “She just needs to recharge, that’s all.”

-

You end up spending the next few days locked up in yours and Lando’s room. You avoid the paddock at all costs because you’re really not in the mood to see anyone—especially her. The British driver tried his best to get you out from these four walls, but gave up shortly after you blamed it on a migraine. You haven’t had one of those in years, but he learns to respect your decision. You do promise to be there for his race, though.

And as expected, you see her. Sat perfectly with her legs crossed, the young girl beams, motioning for you to join her on the open chair. At first you act like you don’t see her, preferring to stay standing for the next few hours rather than being pushed up next to her, but when she calls your name, you curse beneath your breath before making your way. 

“Hey,” you cheer, hugging her briefly before taking a seat. 

A giggle. “Hey. I heard you’ve been feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Huh?”

Lily blinks. “Lando said—”

In one quick motion, you click your fingers, nodding along. Right—Lando had lied on your behalf. It completely slipped your mind. Letting out a muffled groan, you wince theatrically, hoping she buys it. She does, worry quickly taking over her gentle gaze. “I have, yeah, I have.” Cheer’s erupt as the camera pans over to the fan zone, then back to the drivers that line up for the National Anthem. “But I'm much better now!”

Her concern slowly melts away as she smiles. “That’s good to hear.”

You would have not traveled with Lando to this week's race if you had known she would be here. Usually, she’s not, but you almost feel as if you know everything about her from how much Oscar talks about her. It gets exhausting hearing the same stories being told over and over again, as if she was the best thing to come around. Was it really that hard to just not bring her up?

But alas, you are here, and so is she. 

It feels like an eternity slowly goes by, so you’re quick to dart out the garage as you make your way towards the podium. The good thing is that she doesn’t need to because Oscar secured a lucky fourth place. Close, but not close enough. 

Running towards you after a round of media, Lando pecks your lips. He smells like a mix of champagne and sweat, not a completely unpleasant scent. He wiggles his brows. “Proud?”

You grin, eyes crinkling just the same as his. “Super.” Another kiss. “You were great out there.”

A subtle shade of red burns his nose as he smiles widely, pulling you towards the direction of McLaren Hospitality, leaving you to follow him as you admire the way everyone looks at him the same way you do. 

You like that he’s a winner. You like that you’re dating the winner. And that’s why you admire him, because he gives you the right to brag about him by simply being his girlfriend. The kind everyone wishes to be. Entering the familiar orange motorhome, you two are caught at a stop as soon as Zak calls out for Lando who turns curiously. 

“My man!” he cheers, making you take a step back and letting them have their moment. You listen for the first few minutes, but when it looks like the congratulatory might run deep, you claim a seat on the nearby sofa, scrolling through your phone to kill time. At some point, you look up to see them bid goodbye, sighing tiredly as you make your way up. Zak grins from ear to ear, pointing at you with nothing but radiant energy. “See you there!”

With that, he walks away, leaving you two alone once again. Raising a sharp brow, you tap Lando’s shoulder with confusion. “What does he mean by that?”

“He’s rented a yacht for the team to celebrate today's win,” he explains, guiding you towards the privacy of his room with a large hand on your lower back. “You know him—he likes to go all out.”

You hum, still walking up in front of him. “I figured you would want to go clubbing…”

There’s a cloudy sigh behind you as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I mean, yeah, I do, but we should probably skip that and do this instead.” Reaching to twist the knob, you pause, turning to face him with a surprised expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” you respond, shaking your head. “Look at you maturing. You see, my Lando would have never preferred a classy yacht party instead of a trashy club.” 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’ve changed.”

“Right,” you tease, finally opening the door, but as soon as you do, the room next to you squeaks, indicating someone exiting. Oscar and Lily come to a halt as soon as they spot you both. Your lips open in the smallest of gaps as they smile politely. 

“Congratulations,” the British girl is the first to break the silence as she goes in for a quick side hug, one that Lando accepts without missing a beat. “You must be over the moon.”

“I am,” your boyfriend lets out, still not used to the feeling of being first. A beat. “Hey, did Zak mention anything about—”

“The yacht party?” Oscar fills in with a loopy grin. Lando snickers, nodding at his guess. He shakes his head. “Yeah, but we can’t. I have to drive Lily to the airport.”

Intrigued by the fact, your brows dart up. “Ah, no way—you’re leaving already?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling tiredly. “I have a few tests lined up for next week, and I can’t miss them.”

“Shame,” you hum, but the relief of not having her around anymore makes you feel a thousand times lighter. “I was going to suggest grabbing dinner next week…”

“Really?” Lando and Lily question in sync, both equally as surprised as one another. On the flipside, Oscar stands with an unrecognizable expression, making you avoid even looking at him because something about it somehow convinces you that he can see right past your lie.

Coughing awkwardly, you bob your head, catching the glimmer in her blue eyes as she holds her breath, almost. Something about it makes you feel bad, but just for a split second. “Yes, really, but it looks like we got a bit unlucky.”

Swiftly, Lily turns to face Oscar with a helpless expression, as if pleading for aid, but for him it was an easy decision. “You can’t skip out on exams,” he whispers lowly, but still clear enough for you to hear. “You know that.”

And sure—she does—but ever since she got here, she’s felt so out of place. Not with the team, not with two McLaren drivers as a duo, but rather with you. And now this? Any opportunity to have you as a friend is as good as gold in her eyes.

And to be quite honest, you didn’t expect for someone as truthful as Lily to lie to their professor in a lengthy email, claiming to be severely down with the flu in order to stay a couple extra days and catch that unpromising dinner you had made up as some way to get her to think you’d miss not having her around. This was your reality and you just had to deal with it.

But Oscar? 

Watching you carefully as you hug Lily back when she leaps with excitement into your arms, he squints with subtle suspicion in your character. Something in your rigidness and mannequin smile makes him want to pull the British girl away from you, feeling the need to protect his girlfriend's innocence. 

Smiling softly over her shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Oscar, making your stomach churn. His eyes remain on you for a second longer before sharing a smile of his own.

Yup, you think to yourself. 

He knows.

_

A week goes by at a snail's place. 

The four of you fly together to the next continent with nothing but fake enthusiasm. Well, fake from you, and unbeknownst, fake from Oscar, too.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust you completely. In hindsight, you haven’t done anything wrong, but everytime you and Lily are together—which is most of the week—it feels like you have. Maybe it had something to do with the sinister glares you’d send her way when you thought no one was looking, or the fact that you’d have to take a heavy breath in preparation every time she’d greet you with a warm hug. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was seeing something that wasn’t there, but that doesn’t mean he’d be at ease for the rest of the week. 

Hence, dinner. 

You find yourself forced to make a reservation at one of the fanciest cuisine restaurants close to where you’re staying and that itself was annoying. You shouldn’t be doing any of this—she shouldn’t even be here.

Smiling gingerly, the British girl let out a small giggle at some joke Lando made. By the looks of it, it’s pretty funny, so you numbly follow her lead, though you have yet to know what it was. “You must be laughing all the time,” Lily notes, blue eyes focused on you with wonder. You hum, pursing your lips with uncertainty. She giggles harder. “Well because of how funny he is.”

Lando claps once, making you flinch in return. “Thank you! It’s about damn time someone appreciates my humor.”

“I do appreciate it,” you defend, slowly losing your patience. Licking your lips, you look back towards Lily who remains with a smile. “Don’t listen to him, he just likes the attention.”

“That I can agree on,” Oscar adds, cracking a grin of his own. Suddenly, you’re all into the discussion. The Australian sneers childishly. “You can’t seem to live a single moment without making things about yourself.”

“Oscar,” Lily warns, faint pink painting her pale skin. “Be nice.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Lando says, waving her off like it’s no big deal—which it’s not. He leans back against his chair, flipping his teammate off who scoffs lightheartedly. “This is how we talk. Right, Osc?”

“Right.”

Somewhere in between dessert, while you’re in the middle of licking your spoon clean, the invitation that came to ruin your life, comes up. Lily clears her throat nervously, suddenly worried by the thought of you turning her down. “I was meaning to ask…” Puzzled, you keep your eyes on her, awaiting her next words. She shrugs sheepishly. “Well, I graduate this summer, and Oscar is throwing me a party up in North Carolina…” She trails off, gathering her words. “I was wondering if you two would like to come?”

“Oh,” Lando's voice comes through like a muffle, mouth full of cheesecake. He swallows, blue eyes flickering between the couple and his girlfriend who remains with a blank expression, metal spoon still in place. “I mean—yeah. Right?”

Unfreezing, you place the utensil down onto your plate, smiling weakly. “Uh…yeah.” Lily grins, letting out a breath of relief, making Oscar frown over the realization that your response mattered so much to her. You nod robotically. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” Lily cheers, beaming like a kid on Christmas Day. “And don’t worry about spending on a hotel—we’ve got you covered.”

You blink, bewildered. “You do?” 

She nods. “Of course, we do! You’re our guests, you’ll be staying with us.”

Your boyfriend smiles faintly. “That’s kind of you, but it’s really no problem. We wouldn’t want to overcrowd.”

“Nonsense,” the Australian speaks up, shaking his head, brown strands of hair swinging in the slightest. “We have plenty of room. All of our family and friends are already staying in the hotel nearby—it’d be nice to have a bit of company.” His eyes soften, making your heart beat a little faster. “What do you say?”

It feels like he’s looking directly at you—chocolate orbs as sweet as can be. As if nothing else exists in this moment if it’s not you or him. But in reality, his attention is focused on your boyfriend, awaiting his response.

Not yours.

Flustered, you poke Lando’s leg beneath the table, hoping he takes the hint. Blue eyes flicker towards your direction for a millisecond before returning with a nod. “Looks like you have two roomies.”

Lily squeals, smiling brightly as Oscar’s lips remain in a thin line, his version of a smile. 

And if he could turn back time…

He really fucking would.

-

Once the season ends, everyone is on a high. Lando for coming in second in the Driver’s Championship and for bringing in the Constructors Championship for the first time in years, and Oscar for the latter. Regardless, it was an outstanding season for the two of them. 

You and the Brit end up flying in a few days later due to going back home to pack a few more necessities, but once you’ve got that all figured out, you find yourselves in the middle of a heatstroke, making you second guess all your life's choices all at once. 

“It feels as if my skin’s melting off,” you groan, fanning yourself with the roadmap, because as it came, satellites are utter shit when it comes to where you’re staying. Lando tries to convince you that having no internet for a few weeks isn’t all that bad, but as soon as a twenty minute drive turns into a one hour drive due to getting lost without the guidance of a GPS, he regrets his words. You roll your eyes, narrating as he finally pulls up to the driveway of what appears to be the best looking house in all of North Carolina. 

He whistles. “If it weren’t so hot during the summer, I’d definitely move here.”

Scoffing, you exit the car rental, looking up at the navy blue house where green ivy hangs. “We are not moving here. I’d rather die.”

“Fair,” he mumbles as he makes his way towards the front door, you right on his heels. Swinging the door open, you two are instantly hit with the fresh gust of air. “Thank God,” Lando moans, loving the fact that the AC is the only thing preventing him from fainting. 

Pushing him in, you make sure to close the door behind you as you shut your eyes with sweet relief. Somewhere towards the end of the hall, you hear shoes squeak against the wooden tiles. Lily waves, hair up in a similar ponytail as yours, as she smiles as warm as the weather that nearly cost you your life. “You made it!”

“We sure did,” you respond, gritting your teeth in order to prevent yourself from letting out some snarky remark. Not that she deserves it, of course she doesn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Pointing back towards the wooden door, you wince apologetically. “Sorry to barge in. Someone didn’t bother knocking.”

Lando makes a face, then turns to the blue eyed girl with a playful smile. “You don’t mind, do you, Lily?”

She shakes her head, pursuing her lips with delight. “Not at all. We left it open knowing you two would show up. We’ve been fixing the guest bedroom for the past hour and we didn’t want to run the risk of not hearing you knock, so…I guess it all worked out just fine.”

“See? Lily says it worked out just fine,” your boyfriend says smugly as you roll your eyes, not at all impressed with his sudden cockines. “Where is Oscar, by the way?”

Lily signals upstairs, then blushes. “Do you mind helping me grab a few things from the car, Lando?” A shy chuckle. “It’s just we went out for some party essentials last night, but we were too tired to bring them in, and the box is too heavy, and Oscar is pretty busy, and I’d hate to bother him, and—”

“Sure,” Lando cuts off her rambling. “That way I can grab our suitcases, too.”

“Fantastic,” she hoots, dusting her hands against her shorts as she grabs a set of car keys from the kitchen table. Turning to you, she grimaces. “Do you mind checking up on Oscar?”

Your plump lips part, a line of dehydration hung upon them. “I would, but I should help Lando—”

“It’s okay,” your boyfriend fills in. “I’ve got it all under control.”

Lily pleads silently, brows drawn in together. “You’d really be doing me a favor. It’s just that he was in the middle of fixing the duvet and he tends to run out of patience if he doesn’t get it right away.” A chuckle. “Please?”

Which is how you find yourself in a room, alone with the one person you probably shouldn’t be alone with, but find yourself wishing that were always the case. Alone with one another, that is. Gently knocking on the already open door feels like the right thing to do, so you do just that. Alerted by the sound, the Australian’s head jerks up, brown eyes caught against yours.

You tilt your head slightly, like some greet. “Lily sent me,” you find yourself explaining as he sighs, resting on the unmade bed. Leaning against the doorframe, you bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say next.

He huffs. “Of course she did.” A snort. “Sorry your room still isn’t ready. It's just that, I, uh…can't seem to get this right,” he admits, shyly scratching the back of his neck as he motions towards the unmade mess. “Lily always helps, but she’s a bit busy right now, and I'd hate to bother her, and—”

“I can help.”

A pause, then: “Oh, don't worry, you don't need to do that. You’re our guests.”

Chuckling, you shake your head, already making a move to grab the sheets. Taking hold of one corner, you signal for him to do the same, the Australian instantly catching on and taking hold of the opposite side. Aligning it, you look up at him, watching as he focuses on your hands and repeats the order. You smile, going for more and doing it all over again. Once it's perfectly laid out, you take a step back. “Not too shabby.”

“Huh,” he muttered, blinking with amazement. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say, fixing the mountain of pillows before taking it in with a gentle smile. “Lando’s excited to be here.”

Oscar looks up, neat brows raising. “Is he?”

“Mhm,” you hum, finally connecting your gaze to his. From this distance—close—you note the faint trace of cologne that hugs him, along with a thin layer of sweat. Grinding your molars, you fume silently within you as you catch it—her perfume. You wonder how close she had to have been in order for it to imprint on him, but as soon as you ponder for too long about it, you shake your head, acting as if you’re brushing away some invisible dust. “He’s looking forward to jet skiing.”

A deep chuckle. Pressing his back against the wall, he crosses his arm, giving you a clear view of his muscles that pulse like the world's biggest temptation. If you had the chance—just one—you’d kiss them the way you've fantasized for so long now.

He opens his mouth, about to say something that's going to change everything amongst you two, but bails at the last minute, shaking his head as if he barely caught himself. Intrigued, you raise a neat brow. “What's wrong?” you ask, feeling far too curious. 

Oscar tsks. “No, uh, it's nothing.” A beat, then he looks up, squinting his eyes skeptically, as if you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out. He's looking at you the same way he did that day you lied about planning the dinner, and that itself makes your stomach dip. Suddenly, you're not as interested in finding out what he has to say anymore. “Lily loves you, you know that?”

Not what you were expecting. “She does?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, orbs still trained on you. You want him to look away—you need him to look away. Pink lips curl into something of a scoff. The Australian’s eyes darken, making you freeze with trepidation. “She thinks you’re great.” Opening his arms like some grand gesture, he motions towards the lively room. “I mean, look at her. She’s trying her best to please you.”

Something about the way he says it makes you feel as if he’s not that fond of Lily’s behavior. As if you don’t deserve her kindness, even just a sprinkle of it. Pursing your lips, you rock against the heels of your feet. “And I appreciate that, I really do.” A hint of hesitation. “And I like Lily, as well—”

A raw chuckle. Blinking, you catch him shaking his head, brown eyes shut in disbelief, and when he opens them once again, it’s not that kind-hearted and easy-going Australian you’ve come to know—no. He’s broad, and cold, and guarded. 

“No you don’t.”

You gulp, laughing awkwardly as you rub your forearm, feeling the heat of shame radiate off your body. “What are you talking about? She’s super sweet—”

“I never said she wasn’t,” he cuts you off again, this time a bit harsher. Enough to take a step back. Your heart races times a million at this point, palms moist with sweat. “I never said she wasn’t sweet—I don’t doubt that even for a second. But I know that you’re lying, and I know that you hate her.” A beat. “Why?”

“I do like her,” you continue to insist, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. “What makes you even think otherwise?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” he says, accent sharper than usual. “Like you wish her the worst—I know what hate looks like.”

This time, you grab what’s left of your courage, and look at him straight in the eyes, not backing down. “Yeah? And what does hate look like?”

“You’re looking at it.”

It’s as if an ice cold bucket of water is thrown at you with no alert. His insinuation makes you want to recoil, but if you do, then he’d know he’s gotten to you, and if he gets to you, then he’ll figure the rest of it out. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” He smiles tauntingly, inching close and tilting his head as he opens his mouth. “I just don’t like you, that’s all. I’m not cruel enough to hate.” Cruel. He’s calling you cruel. He knows, therefore, you’re cruel. The word itself shouldn’t affect you this much, but it does. Narrowing your eyes, you push him away, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he cocks his head in question with little to no surprise. “What? You don’t like hearing the truth of what you are? Did you really think you were a good person?”

“Look,” you finally speak, glaring. “I don’t know what you think you’ve seen, but I don’t hate Lily. For God sakes, I barely even know her!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, breaking. “Which is why I’m more than confused! What has she done to you?”

Have possession over you, you think to yourself as you pant, blink with defeat. I hate her because what she’s done to me is have possession over you, and that’s not fair.

“I—”

“Hey,” a soft voice melts into the room, Lily coming into view, cheeks flushed. “Is everything alright in here? We thought we heard yelling.” 

Standing behind her, frowning over her shoulder, Lando stares with a lost expression. Everything indicates that there had been some sort of altercation, but the smiles you two wear are enough to try and convince them otherwise. Walking towards her, Oscar wraps his arm around her waist, pecking her temple as she blinks, still worried. “What? That’s absurd. We were simply talking. Weren’t we?”

It takes you a minute to register that he’s talking to you, so when you do answer, it’s nothing but a whisper. “Yeah… just, yeah.” You shake your head, blinking hastily. “We were just talking.”

“Are you sure?” Lando asks, pushing past the couple as he rushes to you, large hand grabbing your wrist softly as he looks at you. His gaze flickers momentarily toward Oscar, as if accusing him for doing something, in return, making the Australian frown for his sudden distrust. As if he’s the bad guy. 

You nod, plump lips formed into a thin line. “Yup,” you say, attention flickering down to where Oscar keeps Lily secure against his touch. As if you’re the bad guy. You chuckle, shrugging. “He was thanking me for helping him do something so easy as setting a bed.”

Oscar clenches his jaw. “Yeah. Thanking you.”

Anyone who knows you, knows that you’re a decent human being. There’s not much to contradict that. But no one will ever know you the way you know yourself. Because if they did?

They’d find out that there was no one greedier….

Than you.

-

Dinner that night is homemade pizza. Lily followed a recipe. 

It’s quite delicious, sure, and you’re able to make that note due to that one small bite you had before you ditch it for your mimosa. Lando tries to get you to eat, but you gently promise him that you’re just not that hungry. You see the way Oscar stares, feeling bad for his girlfriend who spent hours making this for you. She excuses herself, rushing towards the kitchen as the Australian apologizes, following after her.

Turning abruptly, the British boy huffs, causing commotion. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

“This again?” you groan. “I already told you—nothing. Drop it.”

“What’d he say to you?” he questions, a layer of curiosity making an appearance. “Did he say something to offend you?”

“No,” you hum against your glass. “He did not.”

“Did you say something to offend him?” he switches the inquiry, making you glare. 

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

Lando sighs, relaxing against his chair once again. He takes a bite, swallows, then takes another. “I get the sense that you’re keeping something from me—you’re not like that.”

Actually, you are. He just doesn’t know it. Placing a hand over his, you hum, calming him down as he connects his gaze onto yours, eyes as soft as jello. “He might’ve lost his temper on me a bit.”

“What?” he screeches, making you hush him.

“Let me finish,” you hiss. He nods, curls bouncing. “He couldn’t get the sheets to stay in place. Remember how Lily said he tends to lose patience because of that?” Another nod. You shrug. “Well, that was it. We just didn’t want you two to make a big deal out of nothing. Much like now,” you point out, spotting a subtle blush threatening his cheeks. 

“Well, forgive me for looking out for you,” he sings. “I care, you know?”

“And I thank you for that, darling, but you can let go of it now, right?”

“Definitely.”

He doesn’t. Matter of fact, as soon as the couple makes their way back, it’s the first thing he brings up, teasing his teammate who blinks, confused, then: “Oh. Yeah. Right. I had a bit of a moment where I couldn’t get the…yeah. That was it.”

Lily rolls her blue eyes. “Didn’t I warn ya?”

You giggle. “You did, you really did.”

There isn’t much to do from that point on, the sun has set and the moon hangs as bright as headlights. Lando knocks out after a much needed shower, and while you can’t sleep with wet hair, you settle on fixing yourself up a tea now that it’s cooled down. 

Walking barefoot towards the lake, you hum, finding peace with the way crickets sing. Blue, gentle waves sway back and forth as you look beyond, mind at peace. That is until you hear a small cough. Startled, you search for the culprit and you find him, laid down on the grass. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Oscar sighs. “I’d rather not talk to you right now.”

“Or ever?” you offer, but he doesn’t find you humor all that entertaining. Making your way, you find a space next to him. “You can’t ignore me, you know that? We’re about to spend a month together. That, and you’re my boyfriend's teammate. I see you on track.”

He disregards the fact that you're right, sitting up instead, laying his arms over his bent knees. “What’s your game?”

“I don’t have one,” you say softly. “I’m just here to have fun—it’s summer.”

A scoff. “I’m serious—what do you want from us?”

There was a point in time when you first met the Australian where you remember thinking: this is a boy. His arms were twigs, his neck was small, and his fireproofs fit him loosely.

Fastword, a year later: everything has taken a turn. Oscar Piastri has matured, and now—now you want him. 

“My parents had my sister three years after they had me.” Oscar cocks his head, puzzled as to why you’re telling him this. You continue, occasionally sipping on your tea. “And the months leading to her birth, they always told me how lucky I’d feel to have her once she was born. Then she was,” you say. “And you know what I felt?”

“Lucky?” he finds himself guessing quietly. 

You shake your head, causing his brows to jump up with surprise. “I love her, I do, but I think that was the moment I realized I didn’t like to share. I wanted my parents to stay my parents, and not hers. I wanted my grandparents to stay my grandparents, and not hers. And…once we grew up and we were old enough to date—I wanted her boyfriends to like me more than they liked her.”

Quiet, his eyes linger with disgust. “I love knowing that I can get away with it—get what I want.” This time, you look at him, and it hits him all at once: you want him. You smile, like what you’re saying is funny and not fucked. A giggle. “You’re a smart individual, Oscar. Do you get what I’m saying?”

He does. And it makes his stomach knot. 

“I’m in love with Lily,” he states, as if that will make you back off. “I’m. In. Love. With. Lily.”

But he can tell you don’t care. You never have, and you never will. And the fact that she has you is why you hate her. He sees that now. 

Standing, your knees are at his eye level, forcing him to look away, forcing him to look up. You hold power in this stance, and he’s basically at your knees—worshiping you. He doesn’t like that. In one fast movement, he jumps up, towering over you, but that’s fine. It doesn’t matter. And he realizes he can never win when it comes to you because it seems you like that too. 

He gulps. You grin.

“Doesn't matter.”

-

You’re playing a dangerous game.

It starts early in the morning and ends late at night. At times, he feels like a kid hiding behind his mum's skirt, practically sticking to Lily like superglue, and normally she loves that, but with how busy she is with graduation, she pushes him off most times now. It’s always: Oscar, no or Oscar, what now? He can’t seem to get it right.

“Why don’t you go jet skiing with Lando?” you speak up and he finds it weird that you’re helping him out. The British girl nods. Yeah! Why don’t you? He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

They come back with fresh sunburns and a couple new freckles. Lando’s curls are hard from the sea salt, so he gives you a quick kiss, running up stairs for a quick shower. He’s been having lots of those. Not even a minute later, Oscar goes on to do the same. 

Somewhere along the line, you hear your name, and you know what that means. Rolling your eyes, you look over at the blue eyed girl. “I bet you he forgot his towels—”

I forgot my towels!

Giggling, Lily shakes her head, muttering ‘boys’, then signals towards her room. “I just washed some, you can grab them from our cabinet.”

“Thanks,” you chirp, making your way. While yours and Lando’s room sits at the far right side of the hall, Oscar’s and Lily’s is on the left. And you never meant to walk in on him, not at all, but you did. 

Swinging the door open, you’re caught face to face with a shirtless Oscar, dying his wet hair with a blue towel. He freezes. “W-what are you doing here?” he stutters.

You try not to stare, you really do, but you can’t help it. His body is solid, chiseled, even. His skin is moist from lathering lotion and that’s enough to make your head spin. And yet, you don’t let him see that. Pushing past him, you dig your hand deep into the cabinet, pulling two fresh towels, similar to his. He frowns.

“Just grabbing towels for my boyfriend.” Smile. “See you.”

Is this how you get people to fall for you? By not seeming desperate? Because while he knows that you want him, you sure don’t show it, and that definitely confuses him.

That same night, you four are watching a movie in the living room. Cherry Falls to be exact. The entire way through, you’re curled into Lando’s chest under a blanket. On the other side of the long couch, Lily and Oscar sit as straight as can be, but his arm remains over her shoulder, keeping her safe. 

You’re not jealous over something like that, but when she flinches during certain scenes and he comforts her, that gets you. “Hey,” you start, whispering into the Brit’s ear. Green eyes are stuck on the screen, nodding robotically. Yeah? You kiss his warm skin, making him jump. “Why don’t you and I go to bed?”

“Bed?” he asks, slow and unsure where you’re headed. “Already? But…we’re halfway through.” You yawn, rubbing a hand along his thigh. He blushes, impressed with how cool you’re able to play it. Coughing, he nods excitedly. “I think we’re done for the day,” he announces, a bit too loud.

Lily pauses the movie, tilting her head curiously. “Aw, but we’re halfway through…”

“I know,” you add, smiling apologetically. “But I’m just so tired.”

“As am I!” Lando cuts you off, voice squeaky. He shakes his head, blinking hastily, then clears his throat. “But please, don’t let us stop you from finishing the movie.”

“Yeah,” you quip, getting up, about to walk away when Lando reaches for your hips, keeping you in front of him. It doesn’t take much to feel his bulge pressed against your ass. He laughs awkwardly. “We still have that picnic tomorrow, don’t we?”

“We do,” Lily cheers, smiling widely. “Oh, I’m so excited!” Turning to face the Australian, who hasn’t said much up until now, just stares blankly, she taps his knee. “We should probably go to sleep, too.”

“No!” Lando yelps, blushing bright red as the blue eyed girl frowns. “Keep on watching. Keep the telly on. In fact…” He reaches for the control. “Turn up the volume.” 

“Great idea,” Lily says, pursing her lips as the numbers go up on the screen. “Alright then, you two go rest.”

“Thank you,” you reply, walking carefully in front of the British boy who still tries his best to hide behind you, waving sheepishly. “See you in the morning!”

Oscar really underestimated how naive Lily can be. While she was wide-eyed enough to believe that you two were ready to knock out, he knew the truth. Pecking her cheek, he makes a stand, making his girlfriend pout. “Where are you going? I thought we were gonna finish the movie?”

“We are,” he promises, smiling gently. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom real quick. Be right back.”

Running up the stairs, two steps at a time, he rushes to your side of the hall, quickly identifying small moans. He stops dead in his tracks, heart stuck in his throat, and he doesn’t know why. 

Fuck, baby, he hears Lando groan. Oscar grimaces, shutting his eyes with discomfort. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn’t have his ear pressed against the door, intruding in your guys’ private sex life. 

He shouldn't be bothered so much. Or at all.

Lando, you whine, surely writhing with pleasure. The sound makes him break a sweat, makes his brain go fuzzy. He can’t even think properly. And he knows this is wrong—on so many levels—but what’s worse is that he wishes Lando were dead. 

Skin to skin contact makes his jaw clench with anger. The fact that he knows what you feel like makes him want to barge in and rip you two apart. And it dawns on him—why does he care so much?

“No,” he mutters, taking a step back as if the door were made out of lava. He blinks hastily, shaking his head harshly until he feels his brain jump from side to side. “God, no…”

It’s official—you have his attention.

Without even making a move.

-

You feel his gaze on you. You don’t even have to look and see to know that it’s him and not Lando. Lando’s gaze doesn’t burn, but his? His zaps. Looking up from where you rested on the red gingham blanket Lily rolled onto the fresh grass, you squinted behind your glasses, making eye contact with the Australian. 

You know you have him.

Reaching into your bag, you grab your sunscreen, squirting it onto your legs, making sure to lather it on in a teasing manner. You rub up and down, slow and steady. Briskly, he looks away, paying attention to his teammate who continues to ramble on and on about nothing in particular. 

Not as particular as you.

“I love having you two around,” Lily says, ripping your gaze away like one would their band aid. She hums, gingerly fixing her floppy hat and motioning towards your sunscreen. Go right ahead. “Thank you,” she replies sweetly. A beat. “I have a favor to ask.” This get’s your attention. Furrowing your brows, you nod, urging her to continue. “So, I’m in a bit of a predicament.”

“What is it?”

Lily blushes, as if she’s too embarrassed to admit. “Remember how I skipped a few exams in order to extend my stay the first time we met? In order to have that dinner with both you and Lando?”

“Yeah,” you say, still uncertain about where this might possibly lead. “I think I do.”

She cringes. “I never took them.”

“What?”

“I know! And now my advisor is telling me I won’t be able to graduate if I don’t find a way to take them, and I don’t know what to do!” She groans, bumping the edge of her palm against her forehead. “Oh God, Oscar is going to be so mad at me.”

“Okay, calm down,” you soothe her. “Have you tried reaching out to your professor?”

“Not yet,” she mumbles, tears pooling the corner of her eyes, making you feel just a dash of pity. “Should I?”

“Yes,” you respond quickly. “You should. Ask them if there’s any way to take those exams. Say you’re sorry—like really sorry. They have to be able to tell that you never meant to skip out in the first place.”

“I didn’t,” she squeaks, voice wavering. “I’m not usually like this, but…” Her blue eyes flicker down to her lap, fingers playing nervously with the hem of her shirt. “I just really want to fix this and graduate on time. Everyone is counting on that!”

“You’re going to walk that stage, Lily, alright? You just need to keep your eye on the prize.” Sighing, you unlock your phone, handing it to her. “E-mail them right now.”

“O-okay,” she sutter, eyes softening. “Thank you for being such a great friend.”

You blink. “Oh. Yeah—anytime.”

She finds privacy back in the parking lot, leaving you alone with the boys deep in the horizon. It’s peak golden-hour, so they look significantly tan. You smile, lying back down, glasses hugging the curve of your nose. You’re halfway asleep at one point, but as soon as you feel a droplet fall onto you, you peek an eye open.

“Where’s Lily?” Oscar questions, furrowing his dark brows.

You roll your eyes. “She went to get something from the car.” She probably wouldn’t like Oscar knowing the truth, and you’re not one to tell it. You wave your hand dismissively. “Now move—you’re blocking the sun.”

Grinding his teeth, the Australian scoots, but his eyes remain down on you. You lay tan now, white bikini standing out against your skin. Brown eyes trails down your legs, spotting an ankle bracelet. He hums. “What’s it say?”

You sigh. “Could you be more specific?”

He kicks your feet, making you lean against your elbows, staring at him coldly. Noticing what he was referring to, you lick your lips. “It's the number four.”

“Four?” he asks plainly. “Why four?”

“I’m really trying to relax,” you spit, taking your sunglasses off and glaring. “You’d be doing me a huge favor if you just left me alone.”

Aren’t you supposed to want him? Aren’t you the one who's supposed to be chasing after him? 

The tips of his ears burn bright red, and not from the sun. Seeing as he wasn’t leaving, you let out a heavy breath. “He asked me out on April fourth—fourth month, fourth day. His racing number is four.” You make a face. “Do you get it or do you need further explanation?”

He ignores the dig. “Why an ankle bracelet, though? Why not a ring or a necklace?”

Your red lips part open, then close. His guts twist with jealousy once he comes to the realization. The reason it’s an ankle bracelet its so that anytime he fucks you, legs dangled over his shoulders, he could admire it. Seeing as he figured it out without having you respond makes you blush. 

“Ankle bracelets are my favorite.”

His eyes darken. “You know what? Next time you two fuck, why don’t you moan a little less loud?”

Your neat brows lift up with surprise. “How are you so sure we already did?”

He pauses, clearly caught on spying. He swallows. “You sound like a pornstar.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” You laugh. “Lando doesn’t seem to mind. In fact…” Biting down on your bottom lip, you blink innocently up at him as his breathing pattern becomes uneven. “He fucking loves it.”

God—what were you doing to him?

Just as he’s about to speak, Lando calls out for him and Lily calls out for you. Where are the beers, mate? The Australian spins back and lets out a lousy smile. “On it, give me a second!”

As he turns again, you’re already up on your feet, adjusting your bikini and throwing Lando’s shirt over your head. The sight alone irks Oscar more than he’d like to admit. “I should go see what Lily needs,” you sing teasingly. Spinning on your heels, you stop, cocking your head to the side and giving him one last glance. “Oh, and Oscar?”

You point down to his hard on imprinted on his short. Horrified, heat rushes to his cheeks.

“Don't get so excited over nothing.”

-

What appears to be the first time in her life, Lily lies to Oscar. 

They need some last minute measurements for my cap and gown, she explains, puffing her cheeks as if the thought of flying back home is too much of a tassel, and not a necessity—she has to go back and take her exams. She had received an extension, but the only catch was that she had to take them in person, as originally planned. I’ll be back in a week. 

The Australian tries to tag along with his girlfriend because the thought of being left alone to third wheel a couple who probably fucks 24/7 is too unbearble. But as expected, Lily declines, claiming it’d be rude for both hostesses to leave their guests behind. And all would’ve been fine if Lando’s father hadn't broken his clavicle playing rugby. 

“Do you really have to leave?” you sigh, zipping his suitcase. 

He nods. “Mum would kill me if I didn't show up.”

“I’ll miss you.”

A soft smile. Pecking your lips, his thumb rubs against your cheek lovingly. “I’ll be back before you know it. Time will fly by.”

Which is how you and Oscar find yourselves sharing a large house with a million desires. He's quick to note that you have a thing for summer dresses—and so does he, apparently. Jaw clenched, he carefully watches as you cut up a variety of fruit, humming as you prepare yourself a plate. You hum a soft melody, making him more and more intrigued to know what it was. 

“Love in the Morning. Ennio Morricone,” he hears you say, munching on a slice of watermelon, walking towards the living room. There, on T.V., plays an unknown reality show, but he's not paying much attention, either way. No, his gaze is stuck on you, focused on the way you stretch your legs onto the coffee table, the rest of your upper body resting against the comfy couch. You swallow, reaching for a piece of mango. “One of my favorite instrumentals.”

It's one of his, too, and not because he knows it by heart, but because you do. Because you sound so beautiful, like a siren, when you hum it. He wonders if you're aware of the power you hold. Though, the way you ignore him lets him know that you do. 

Against the sunlight, the one that peeks through the open window and summer skies, your ankle bracelet shines, blinding him, almost. He feels his chest grow tight—so much so, that it hurts to breathe regularly—and he has to remind himself that this isn’t normal—this isn’t normal. 

Since when did you matter this much to him? Since when did you affect him this much? 

Without a second thought, he claims a spot next to you on the couch, reaching for a berry and popping it in his mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek, somehow satisfied by this small action of his. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. In all your time of knowing the Australian, he never once bothered to get to know you—really get to know you. He never cared, not even in the slightest. But now, in a turn of events, he does. Squinting suspiciously—teasingly—you shake your head, vanilla perfume radiating off your skin. 

“No.”

His lips turn downwards. “No?”

“No,” you repeat, flipping through the channels, pretending he wasn’t even there. A click. “Why should I?”

Because suddenly, you’re the only one in my mind.

He bites down on his tongue, tasting a hint of blood. “I’m not into you, don’t flatter yourself.”

“I never said you were,” you say, a bored tone evident. 

Oscar’s hands get clammy, thankful for having them pressed against his lap. Maybe he can still make a run for it. To his room. Back to Australia. He doesn’t even care where, exactly, but far, far, far from you. That way, he wouldn’t feel so grossed out in wanting to know more about his teammate's girlfriend. The one whom he never thought about once before this trip. And how can he even defend his honor?

You got into his head.

You don’t register what he’s doing—not instantly, at least—but before you know it, he’s pushing your legs off the coffee table, claiming a seat there, instead. Now, rather than having a clear view of the television, you have one of him. Large and desperate and perfect. 

He narrows his eyes, sharp and threatening. “Are you glad that both Lily and Lando are gone?”

“Nope,” you respond, popping the p. “Why would I?”

Why would you? Geez, who really knows? Oh, maybe because now you have me all to yourself, and isn’t that what you wanted all along? Why don’t you want me anymore? 

Slightly grinning, Oscar lets out a raw chuckle, making you want to jump onto his thick lap and lick up his neck. You bet it’d taste like salt and cologne, but the mere thought sounds like a dream. A wild, wild dream. 

“I know you think about me.”

Zero reaction. Unimpressed, you push your bottom lip out, wagging your index finger at him before pressing it against his cheek, making him pause because that alone makes his skin burn. You push, forcing a dimple before doing the last thing he’d ever thought you’d do.

Slap him.

He thinks he’s imagining it, and you didn’t just do that, but the smug look on your face and the sting on his lets him know that he isn’t picturing it, and you did just do that. You smile sweetly, standing and ditching your place right in front of him, making your way towards the stairs. 

“Get a life, Oscar. Not everything is about you.”

You like to mess with people’s sanity. That must be it because—what the fuck is wrong with you?

First, you insinuate lusting over him. Later, you put on a show for him every chance you get. And now? Now you toy with him, making him feel like the crazy one. And one thing’s for sure.

He is not crazy.

You barely have a foot up one stair when you’re pulled back, and before you know it, pushed down to sit on the step, the Australian kneeled down in front of you. You breath hitches, eyes as wide as cherry pies. His brows are drawn in softly, a pink tint dusting his ears like some shy teen. 

“Maybe not—but everything is about you.”

You always knew you’d get him, and you knew exactly how you’d do it. You’d plant the seed and have him come running to you. It always works. I mean, it’s how you got Lando, after all. 

But Lando was a want. Oscar is a need.

With his knees still glued onto the ground, the brunette leans down and kisses your ankle, laying his lips flat as you gasp softly, feeling the familiar bracelet dig into your skin. 

“Tell me you think about me too,” he whispers pathetically—fragile. Another kiss, this time up your calf. “What do I have to do in order to get you to say it?” 

“You’re insane,” you mumble, orbs stuck on the top of his head, shaggy hair hanging loosely before he looks up at you, past his lashes. Butterflies erupt. 

Up your thigh, he licks you, tasting your lotion, but he doesn’t seem to mind the bitter taste. “Come on—I want you.” He sucks, forming a purple bruise. “Don’t you want me, too?”

You do. You fucking crave every piece of him. But you can’t let him know that. And you really do try your best to fight him off, but as soon as he starts curling his fist around your small dress, you’re just as good as gone. 

A tiny moan rings through the air, then a pant follows. He’s barely even touched you and he’s already knocked the air straight from your lungs. 

“I d-do, Oscar.” Whine. “I do want you.”

And just like that—he’s taken whatever power you were claiming onto—back.

Letting go of your dress, he chuckles, enjoying your out of breath state, and standing, making you feel small as you blink, confused as to why he stopped.

Dark eyes glint sinisterly as he kicks your open legs together, not too hard, but still enough to make you jolt with surprise, leaning your elbows up against the step, brows furrowed. 

A beat. “You really are a pretty little thing.”

And with that, he walks away, leaving you to feel abandoned.

-

It’s a brutal game of tug-of-war. One where both of your guys’ hands are burning from trying not to be the first to let go.

The first to admit defeat.

Though, it seems like the days grow longer, your dresses fall shorter, and his mind is hazier. All of which is making it more difficult to keep a distance. That is, until Lily FaceTimes Oscar.

“I need you to buy some flowers.”

Mid-bite, his teeth push down on his apple, eyes glued on her. He pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand. “Won’t they dry out before the party?”

She shakes her head, highlighting what looks to be a set of notes. “That's why you're going to get carnations. They last longer.”

“Is that so?” he entertains, smiling gently when she bites down on her marker, brows furrowed as she reads her piece of paper. Throwing away what's left of his fruit, he hums. “Alright, I’ll take care of it tomorrow, don't worry.”

“Oh no, tomorrow won’t work. You have to do it today.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because she's only available today. She's going dress shopping tomorrow.”

He doesn't even have to ask who she is because he already knows. Shaking his head adamantly, the Australian rejects her idea before it even has a chance to lift off the ground. “I could do it myself,” he snaps, his usually tranquilent voice coming out a bit harsher than intended. And it’s not like him. He never, ever, speaks to Lily this way. So, obviously, it surprises her, a wounded expression mapping out immediately. 

And she could have been mad. She really could have been mad—but she wasn’t. “Is everything okay?” she asks carefully, as if walking on eggshells. It makes him feel like shit. “What's wrong, Oscar?”

“I…” His tongue goes numb. The vivid image of you looking at him, like you hold him in the palm of your hand, comes through. And he doesn’t completely hate it, not right away. But once the British girl hums softly through the phone, he’s ashamed. “I just wish you were here. I miss you.”

A beat, then: I love you.

You had not been the biggest fan of going floral shopping with Oscar, either. Quite frankly, you didn't think being with him for hours on end was a good idea. At least, here in the house, you could escape, but out in the open, your chances were ironically not that good. Where would you run off to if you depended on him for a ride back?

Yet, you found yourself saying yes, and you didn’t know why. You had no clue why you felt the need to help her out. You had no clue why you felt a certain way towards her all of sudden. 

You had no clue when Lily Zneimer—the girl you're supposed to hate—was someone you saw as a friend.

It was a tough pill to swallow, because on one hand, you were still attracted to her boyfriend. But on the other hand, you suddenly had self-control. You didn't want to ruin their relationship anymore. You didn't want to lose her amity. 

You were trying to be better.

“Ready?”

Looking up from your book, you nod. “Let me just go grab my sunglasses.”

As he watches you run upstairs, he feels something—different. From your end, that is. As if something has shifted. But he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, because before he knows it, you’re back. 

The car is quiet and his music can barely even be heard, but nothing is far more awkward than the tension between you two. It’s suffocating, so much so, you roll down the window. He makes a noise, making you tilt your head to look at him. He’s frowning. “It’s a hundred degree’s out, roll it back up. I can turn on the AC.”

You don’t utter a single word, just follow his instructions. He finds that weird. See, usually, you’d be doing something to get him hot and bothered, but these days you seem to be playing it safe. If anything, he should be thankful. He should be glad that you’ve left him alone for whatever reason. 

But now he wants in on your game.

“How’d you meet Lando?”

“Don’t. We don’t have to talk.”

He ignores you. “I met Lily in school. She was in the class next to mine and I used to think she was the most beautiful girl in the world.” His mind panics as soon as he realizes what he’s just said, but you don’t seem to have done the same. A cough. “How’d you meet Lando?”

Seeing as he probably wasn’t going to let this go unless you answer his question, you sigh, twisting your body and adjusting yourself to have a good view of him. Like this, you can count every mole on his skin if you really wanted to, but you don’t. “I never really met Lando, per se. I just always…knew him, I guess.” His brows furrowed and you chuckle. “We grew up as neighbors.”

“You did?” he asks, brows jumping up with shock. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip. “He was my sister’s boyfriend for two years.” This shouldn’t surprise him. Coming to a red light, he turns to look at you, fighting the urge to show any kind of reaction, he doesn’t want to scare you off. You look away, wincing. “I knew what I was ruining the moment he and I started talking behind her back, and I did it anyway.” 

“So…they were still dating?”

Nod. “She caught us locked up in the bathroom. There really wasn’t any explanation to that.” Green flashes as you point numbly and he steps on the gas once again. “And you know what? I didn’t even feel all that bad, and you want to know why?”

“Why?” 

“Because I got what I wanted.”

I love knowing that I can get away with it—get what I want, that is.

Your words from nights ago replay inside his overly crowded mind, making it pound like a sore thumb. His lips open, but he has nothing to say, and it appears you’re done talking, too. Or so he thought. 

“Oscar…” you whisper. “I can’t taint another relationship.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw slacked. You don’t want him anymore. You want nothing to do with him. Shouldn’t he be pleased? Shouldn’t he be ecstatic that your diabolical plan has expired? One you never admitted to, but still. 

So then why does he feel let down?

“Lily is great,” you continue, eyes closed as you nod gingerly. “She’s the best, and she deserves the friend she thinks she has.”

“Except you two aren’t friends.”

You blink. “Wh-wha—yes we are. What are you talking about?”

He grits his teeth. “You two aren’t friends. You could never be.”

This gets a rise out of you. Straightening your back, your brows pinch together with offense. “And why not?”

“Because.”

“Because?” You scoff, not impressed by his bland response. “We can’t be friends simply ‘because’?”

Switching lanes, he huffs, spotting pink carnations in his rear view mirror. You had chosen those on Lily’s behalf. He didn’t really care at the moment, but now he wishes you had gone with white. What were you two arguing about again? 

Spotting the familiar blue house, he lets out a breath, pulling into the driveway, quickly putting the car in park, and turning off the ignition. This almost makes you back down because suddenly his sole focus is on you, not the road. 

“You’re on my mind.”

Oh. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you shake your head. “I’m n—”

“Yes,” he says, firmly, reaching for your hands and pulling them up to his mouth, kissing them over and over. “You are and you know it.”

“Oscar, no…” you let out, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens. A crazed look colors his irises as his chest rises fast, up and down, as if he’s close to hyperventilating. Bewildered, your lips turn to a downward spiral. “You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“Yes, I do!” he yelps, voice cracking as you stare with shock. “You did this to me, you got in my head on purpose!”

“I didn’t do anything!” you squeal, frightened by his tone. “Did I tell you that I wanted you?”

“You implied it,” he defends rapidly, pleading with eyes for you to show any signs of recollection. “What changed?”

“I already told you,” you snap, this time using all your power to yank your hands back. “I don’t want to be this way anymore. I can’t.”

Silence. 

Slow breaths explore the car as he stares blankly. “That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair?” you hiss, aiming a glare. 

Oscar shakes his head, flinging his door open and hopping out, leaving you dumbfounded as you watch him go. Unbuckling yourself, you make a beeline for him, barely even reaching him as you tug on his shirt, making him turn back with a dark look in his eyes. Your heart nearly flat lines from how scared you are of him from this point of view. 

“What isn’t fair, huh?” you ask, trying to sound brave, but there’s a slight tremble in your voice. 

Glowering down on you, the Australian’s lips form a slow smile, almost in a sinister way. Mocking, too. He chuckles to himself. “You like to have your own fun, don’t you?” Your shoulders drop, taking a clumsy step back, but he takes a dominating one forward. “Yeah…you do. You get to knead your fingers into someone’s brain until all they can think about is you, and once they do, you’re out.” Pause. “It’s no longer fun.”

“That’s not—” You let out a shaky breath, wincing at his accuracy.  “Where are you going with this?”

Oscar shrugs, broad shoulders going up before falling sourly. “I’m gonna do the same.”

You freeze, stomach twisting with trepidation. “Huh?”

He nods, clicking his tongue. “How come you only get to have your fun?” He leans down, coming eye level with you, and narrowing his gaze until you see his iris dilate. Something about that sends a shiver down your spine. “Why can’t I do the same, too?”

Taking a step back, he makes sure to send a sly smile, the kind that lets you see he has a hidden dimple. He sighs as he steps into the house, forcing you to watch him go with a smug reaction and leaving you with a poor one. Last minute, he turns around, inclining against the doorframe, making him appear larger than the world. 

Oscar squints teasingly. 

“I’m going to have you begging me to fuck you.”

-

There was a moment in the past week where you nearly fell for it—almost. 

It happened one morning, and all he had done was walk into the house, all big and sweaty. He had just come back from a run.

“Excuse me,” he says, reaching over to grab a glass from the cabinet, intending to pour himself a bit of water. A certain warmth radiates off him and you feel it cling onto you immediately, pushing you towards him. You physically have to stop yourself. 

Pursing your lips, you move, allowing him to easily grab what he needs. Without a single thank you, he hums, the cool water tasting heavenly. The way his Adam’s Apple juts up and down makes you want to scream, looking away as rub your eyes fiercely. He smiles, setting the glass down. “I need your opinion on something.”

“What is it?” you ask, still not looking. Maybe you should leave to go buy your dress for the party. Time is running out, and you have nothing. Though, at this point, you didn't want to be here anymore. 

“It's about Lily’s graduation gift. Should I get her a necklace with her birthstone, or—” 

An ankle bracelet with my number on it?

Immediately, you turn to face him, cheekbones beet red and a slight twitch in your eyes, those that are now dark and looming. Satisfaction plays a role in his features as he stares innocently. “I was leaning towards the ankle bracelet. I really do think you and Lando are onto something.”

“What’s your game?” you ask, bitterness evident in your tone. Your question takes him back to when he was the one asking it. To you. Neat brows furrow with anticipation.

The brunette shrugs. “I don't have one. I'm just here to have fun.” He smirks. “It's summer—isn't it?”

This is all a bad case of deja vu, one you don't find appealing. How dare he ask you something like this with a dirty smile on his face? The look is just the right amount of disgusting, and the right amount of intriguing. 

He was getting to you.

Clicking your tongue, you roll your eyes. “Whatever your plan is—stop it.” Pointing a finger, you shake your head firmly. “Because it's not going to work on me.”

“It’s not?” he asks, closing the gap and towering over you dangerously so. He sees the way your breathing becomes a tad bit irregular, letting him know that this was working, no matter how much you denied it. “Because you’re a better friend now? Because you got one taste of loyalty and now you've decided to be loyal to yourself?” A large hand reaches for your chin, forcing your head to tilt back and look up at him. And you hate how handsome he is in an infuriating moment like this. “People don't change overnight. I doubt you'd be the first.”

Old habits die hard, but over time, and he's right. You're still the same avaricious girl as yesterday. 

Pushing his thumb against the corner of your lips, you instinctively open your mouth, making room. A soft smile tugs at his own lips as his eyes admire your lipstick coating his finger. Slowly, he eases the digit in, feeling your wet tongue hug it. And then, suck.

“Fuck,” he groans beneath his shaggy breath, brown orbs not wanting to miss a single second of this. Humming, your vibrations send a chill down his spine, finding it harder to not bend you over amd just fuck you into oblivion. But no—he had to hear you say it. 

Pink tongue laps around his thumb, doe eyes blinking prettily, lashes fluttering like butterflies. Instant jealousy enters the room as his mind begins to race with the fact that Lando has probably had you like this millions of times. He pushes down on your tongue, making you whine and bite down. And he doesn't even flinch.

“Tell me you want me…” His brows knit with need. “The same way I want you. Please, just—say it.”

Without warning, you bite down hard, this time getting a reaction out of him as he grunts with pain, and you push him away harshly until his back pounds against the nearest wall, letting out a loud thud. 

“Let me tell you one thing, Oscar,” you start, strolling over to him like a fallen angel. Today you wear a white dress, clung to your body like a glove, allowing him to see every curve of yours, in return, making his palms sweat. You grin, reaching him. “You won't ever see me begging for anyone—especially you.” His stomach drops. “No matter how much I want this to happen, too.”

Are you willing to get down on your knees and supplicate?

The answer is an obvious one for him: yes. He’d spend hours at your feet if that meant having you, for even just a second. Normally, he isn't this submissive, nor this desperate, but it seems like only you bring this side out of him. He doesn't entirely hate it.

“Ye—”

Ring! Ring!

Sighing, you walk up to your phone that sits on the nearest counter, and pick it up. “Hi, baby,” you greet sweetly. “How’s Adam?”

Ring! Ring!

Digging into his back pocket, he curses, picking up. “Hello, darling,” he says warmly, making you flicker your gaze over at him with accusation. “How’s everything going?”

Turns out, Adam’s bone wasn't actually broken and Lily had aced her exams. She ended up telling Oscar the truth, to which he was surprised she had kept it hidden from him for so long, but was far more surprised when she told him that you knew. Long story short, by some twist of fate, they’ll be back in the next couple of days. They land on the same day, so they’ll save the Australian the hassle and just drive in together. 

“See you in a couple of days. Alright. Bye,” you say, rubbing your temples. 

Oscar looks up, chewing the inside of his cheek before letting go. “I’ll see you, then. Fly safe.”

A moment passes by. “Did she tell you—”

“That they’re flying in together? Yeah. They were both in London, after all. It makes sense.”

“Sure,” you mumble, brushing a strand of hair away. “They land Wednesday, then?”

“Correct,” he says, nodding along. It’s already Monday, so that was…soon. 

Too soon.

“I should probably start fixing up the arrangements,” you announce. “Lily asked me a couple of days ago, but I haven't gotten around to it. I just pray they haven't died yet.”

“They haven't,” he states, making you curl a brow. He smiles sheepishly. “Carnations last longer. Lily said so.”

“Of course,” you say, grinding your teeth. “Lily said so, so it must be true.”

Nothing more, nothing less. You just walk towards the flowers, and feel the irritation paint your silhouette, because as expected, Lily was right—like always. 

Thing is, Oscar has come to learn your behavior. The way you tell a lie, the way you tell the truth. He's learned your body language, and right now, he can tell one thing for sure.

You never stopped hating Lily.

He smiles.

And that makes him happy. Because he knows this isn't over yet.

-

By Tuesday, the entire setup is ready. The flowers sit beautifully at every table, and the lights hang nicely around the trees. The sound of the lake singing is your only reminder that you could use a break. And apparently, it was also Oscar’s.

“The event decorators just left. But you did an excellent job with the florals,” he adds last minute.

A hum. “I tried my best.”

The dock creaks. The frog's ribbit. The crickets harmonize. And you two are too close to one another. Your shoulders brush, making you flinch and for him to cough awkwardly. “Despite everything, I had fun having you around. A summer well spent, don't you think?”

With a deadpan expression, you turn to look at him, making him laugh, and the corners of your lips fight back a smile. You haven't heard him laugh in so long, you come to realize. In all sincerity, that is. “It was alright,” you respond, shrugging it off as if nothing. “But yeah. I had fun, too.”

Fun teasing each other. Fun trying to get each other to crack. But fun, nonetheless.

And he thinks: if not now, when? You don't know at what moment he catches you off guard, but he does, because in a single second, he's kissing with urgency. Like he's never kissed anyone before and he was making sure to get it right. And it was more than right. Heat pools in between your legs as you try your best to keep up with him, but the taste of cheap beer makes you get high on life. Since when is he much of a drinker?

Since you.

The good thing is that the entrance back to the house isn't that far, so your guys’ tumble is pretty successful. Though, you don't make it to either’ bedroom, but rather the couch, where a bunch of disposables lay. Lily had them shipped a couple days ago. Says she wants as many pictures as possible, savor the memories for a lifetime.

Without any precaution, he wipes his arms across the cushion, sending the cameras to crash against the floor and throwing you onto the couch, smiling once you squeal with excitement. All except one camera—but neither of you notice that yet.

Your soft hair lays around you like a halo, making him wonder if he’s gone straight to heaven. You gesture him to come in closer, and he’s quick to obey, diving for your neck. You giggle, a lazy hand finding its way into his locks. “No marks,” you pant, squirming as he licks a line down your throat before going up towards your lips. 

“No marks,” he confirms. “On your neck.”

You pause momentarily, disattaching your mouth from his. “No marks anywhere.” He grins, nodding just because. You frown. “I’m serious, Oscar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles. “Sure.”

Then, he’s on his knees, kissing your ankle like that one time on the stairs, except now, he’s taking it nice and slow. Steady. Your mind grows dizzy as he grazes his fingers gently down your skin. It sends goosebumps, seeing him like this. So…submissive.

“I never wanted you,” he whispers as he presses his pink lips onto your left ankle this time. He hums. “You were just another girl to me. My teammate’s girlfriend—that’s it.” Another kiss. “You never crossed my mind, not even once.”

And now…

Making his way up, he kisses in between your thighs, nuzzling into your warmth. You let out a weak moan, chest rising raggedly. Playing with his earlobe, you massage it gently as you try your best not to ruin this moment. Though it seems like nothing could. Not when he’s devoted to it already. And so were you.

Feeling a slight burn, you furrow your brows as you spot him sucking gently against your inner thighs. You squirm, pushing his head away as he keeps his position. “I said no marks.”

And you actually feel his smile start to spread against your skin.

“He won’t see these, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Another suck, this time harder. “Well…unless you want him to. Then that’s your decision.” Looking past his lashes, he bites down on the flesh, making you flinch. “So what? Are you gonna let him see how someone else has fucked you while he was gone?”

Pulling your panties to the side, he dips his tongue into your pussy, making your hips fly off the couch, and for him to push them back down, holding you in place. Sloppily, he kisses it—practically making out—and groans like a madman with the way you taste. Your sweet nectar makes his cock grow hard instantaneously, and he can’t help but grind against the edge of the cushion where your legs hang. 

“Holy.” Whine. “Fucking.” Moan. “Shit.” Groan.

Twisting with an obscene amount of pleasure, you tangle a shaky hand through his hair, ignoring how soft it feels. The need to run away and stay is a confusing pattern, but as soon as he adds a finger, curling it just the right amount, you let out a high pitched moan. 

Just like that, Oscar, just like t-that. 

Adding another digit, he picks up the pace of his tongue, drawing figure eights as the knot in your stomach burns brutally. You feel a white cloud surface over your eyes as they close, screwed shut as if that might help you last longer. But he knows what your body needs, and that itself was an alarming thing to realize. 

With one last mewl, you finish all over his tongue as he licks you clean, not wasting a single drop. And the way you taste—makes him not want to go back to not knowing. With a smile filled with bliss, and that familiar afterglow, you giggle, nose scrunching like a bunny as your cheeks remain as red as a rose. The sight alone makes him struggle to comprehend that this is most likely a one time thing, and not something he’ll be able to relieve whenever he wants. 

At the end of the day—you're not his.

But he can still reminisce about this moment from time to time.

Mid-giggle, a flash goes through as you come to a stop. Oscar grins, shaking the green disposable, showing it off. “Beautiful. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Your breath hitches, his words tugging at your heart strings. You haven't experienced something like that in so long. Shaking your head, you push your dress down, climbing off the couch and pushing him to sit. “I like to play fair.” Sliding down to your wobbly knees, you shoot a gentle smirk, something that makes his cock grow painfully harder. “Let me take care of you, Oscar.”

Undoing his belt, you hurriedly unzip his jeans, fighting the urge to take him completely. You don’t, though. No, you first kiss the tip, making him groan, feeling as if pushing you head down is a good idea. Then, you suck at a comfortable speed, like a baby sucking their thumb, and watch past your lashes how his chest begins to rise slowly. 

“You’re huge,” you hum, pecking it. “How am I gonna fit you into my small mouth?” 

Moaning, the brunette drags a hand over his tired expression, faking a smile. “You’re saying you can’t?”

You suck harder, still treating it like a lollipop. Licking his tip like a kitten licks their bowl clean. It’s starting to cut his patience thin. “I can figure it out…”

I’ve done it with Lando. How much harder can this be?

That’s it. Pushing the back of your head, he forces you to deepthroat him, keeping you in place as you drool on either side of his lap, soft gurgles coming through. You try to push off him, but it seems like that makes him shove you down twice as hard.

“Something to say, baby?” he pants under his breath, raising a brow. “What was that?”

Slapping his thigh, tapping out, you find yourself being pulled off of him, dragged onto his lap as in one swift movement, he pushes your panties to the side once again and thrusts his thick cock deep inside of you. So much happens so fast that you barely have a chance to adjust to his girth. 

“Does Lando make you feel half as much as I make you feel?”

He’s not talking about sex. It hasn’t been about sex for a while now. 

Moaning, you bounce up and down, your hair hanging like a curtain as you give your best to keep up with him and his rhythm. But he practically controls you, snapping his hips up with anger. At least, that’s what it feels like. 

“Does he make you feel good?”

“Yes,” you sigh against his ear as you clutch an arm around his shoulder, keeping as steady as possible. “He does.”

But you make me feel better. 

The sound of your praise does something to him, something inexplicable. And while he can’t quite put a name to it, he does know that you’re telling the truth. You had to be. 

Again, pulling you off his swollen cock, he flips you around, having you use him as a chair as he squeezes his girth into your tight pussy, strong arms looping under your legs and spreading them open as he abuses your cunt, feeling your head fall back as you gasp. 

“F-fuck,” you shriek, head bopping with each thrust, and your throat growing dry. “Fuck me—fuck me.”

“I’m trying,” he chuckles, continuing as you try your best to understand how he was able to learn that he knew how to do all this. “Look at you. Just…look at you.”

There comes a time of life where someone is meant for you, and you’ll find your way to each other, no matter what. He’d like to think that it’s true. Sure. It is. But have you ever thought that maybe it’s not? 

Maybe the person you think you’re supposed to be with is busy thinking the same thing as you? Living a full life with someone else who isn’t their soulmate? Romantically, that is. 

Lando and Lily. They’re both place holders. They’re nice, yeah, and they’re amazing, too—but that’s about it.

You hold his entire destiny. 

He just wants to live by it. 

But the way he has you—it’s temporary. And nothing good ever lasts forever. But God, he really fucking wishes it did. 

Close, he hears you whisper, followed by a squeal as he holds your legs up higher, still fucking you in the same position. So, so close. 

“Not. Yet.”

Hauling you off, you’re quick to whine, feeling empty as he spreads you onto the couch, admiring your glistening lips. He presses a thumb down against your bud, feeling the pulse that enlightens him to smile. You copy him, toying with your dress. 

“Should I—”

“Keep it,” he says firmly. A beat. “Please. Keep it.”

When you nod, your hair only gets tangled against the cushion, but that’s the least of your worries. You frown. “You haven’t cum yet…”

“I will, don’t worry.” Silence. Pushing this thumb inside, you squirm, wincing slightly as your eyes remain on him, waiting for his next move. “Open.”

Opening your legs wider, he chuckles, shaking his head. Your mouth. You gulp, then open wide as he hums, bringing his wet finger into your mouth, making you taste yourselves. And normally, you’d be grossed out. God, you don’t let Lando even do this, but something about Oscar makes you feel okay. That, and like a pathetic freak. 

“Good, no?” It’s an awkward thing to ask, you can’t help but blush against his digit, lashes fluttering. The Australian tsks, pressing his large finger against your tongue as your eyes grow wide. “Right?”

In a heartbeat, you nod because it just felt like the right thing to do. Satisfied, he smiles, taking another photo of this beautiful sight. Your eyes are round and full of life, and slightly teary, and that’s what he likes to see. 

Retracting his thumb, he smirks. He makes room for both of you on this small couch, towering over you and he starts raising both your legs over your shoulders. Your stomach twists. 

“I wanna see it when I fuck you.”

With your dresses scrunched up, and his cock cutting you in half, you both moan in sync as the wet sounds echo through the hall of the empty house. And this wouldn’t have happened—probably ever—if you hadn’t accepted their invitation to spend the summer in North fucking Carolina. 

The number four dangles, and not only is the sounder a reminder that it’s there, but he can spot it from his peripheral vision every time he pounds into you a little harder. And he should be jealous—God knows that’s true—but surprisingly, he’s not. 

Because he’s heard the way Lando fucks you. And nothing—nothing—compares to now. 

It feels as if he’s practiced moves like this for a lifetime. As if he were to promise you that this could all work out, then you’d believe him.

You really would.

A sloppy thrust. “I never wanted you to begin with,” he grunts, screwing his eyes shut as your body reacts to his harsh confession. “I saw you with Lando, and I felt absolutely nothing. I had Lily to focus on. But God—what have you done to me?”

His tip seems to find your g-spot as you cry out, withering around. “I was taught to respect others. To respect what’s theirs. Whether that be a journal, or a remote control car, it didn’t matter. But you do,” he confesses, watching as you continue to whimper, probably not catching any of this anymore. “You did this to me…”

You filled me with greed.

Grabbing your ankles, he lurches them over his left shoulder as he continues to pound into your tight cunt, hearing you gasp before erupting into a string of moans. 

“Now, everything he has, I want.” You whine. “I’m going after his Championship.” You whine louder, eyes opening as you watch a bead of sweat roll down his nose. “I’m going after his team.” 

Oscar chuckles darkly. “And I’d love to say that I’m going after you, but hey…looks like I already have you.”

And just like that, the pit in your stomach bursts as you two clash against one another, your orgasms riding out together as your legs finally fall, but not before he makes sure to press a gentle kiss. 

A flash. 

“Really?” you ask, glaring. 

“Stick your tongue out.”

Without any questions, where you lay, you open your mouth, watching as he stands up to tower over you, jerking his cock one last time as his drops of cum fall against your tongue, white and thick. 

Your eyes flicker with excitement as he makes sure to take a picture. If he can’t have you later, or probably ever again, then he’ll make sure that he gets an angle of you that only he could ever dream of years down the line. 

Pulling his pants back up, he makes sure to clean you up before making you sit, him only a few inches away, but honestly, it feels like miles. All of a sudden, he’s distant, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. 

Biting down onto your wobbly lip, you comb your fingers through your hair—you’re doing your own after care. 

“I know things with us won't ever be the same, but…” You wince. “Please don’t treat Lando any differently. He sees you as a brother.”

He flinches because he knows it's true. Of course it is, everybody knows it. Oscar nods in agreement. “Only if you promise to stop hating Lily.”

You snort. “Sure. Sounds fair.”

The sound of tires is what ultimately gets your two to spring up, rushing towards the window as you look onto the driveway. Laughing, you first see Lily, then Lando, then you frantically twist your heels to face the Australian who remains with a blank expression, clearly not expecting them. 

“They were supposed to be here tomorrow, you said!” you hiss, rubbing your temples. “What the fuck?”

“They must’ve upgraded their tickets to get here sooner,” he shoots back, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He grimaces. “Hurry! Help me pick up the disposables from the floor!”

“Right!” you screech, running toward the living room as you fall onto your knees, picking up the cameras and tossing them back onto the couch. Oscar does the same, but with his eyes stuck in the door, waiting for a knock. 

Knock! Knock!

Freezing, you two look at each other, as if debating whether to make a run for it together or not. Though, as soon as you hear Lando call out for you, you’re sure you have no chance. Taking one last glance at the pile of cameras, you huff, skipping towards the door, fixing your knot up hair as best as possible. 

“Hey!” you greet, nearly over exaggerating, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he beams, grinning from ear to ear. Lando pecks your lips, lingering for a moment, making your heart drop. Because he can’t know—can he? Distancing himself, he wears a subtle frown, sort of there, sort of not, so you’re quick to smile. “I’m so happy you’re back.” You turn to face Lily, who’s stayed in the background, letting you have your moment. “That you’re both back.”

“It's nice seeing you, too,” she says before her eyes wander to a place behind you. Suddenly, her eyes twinkle as she grins at Oscar who comes closer with lips drawn into a firm line. “Look who just woke up from a nap.” Kissing his cheek swiftly, she tippy toes, fixing his messy hair into a neat comb over. “You look as if you got into some kind of bar fight.”

“Yeah,” Lando hums, looking over at you with dark eyes. “It sort of does…”

“We were fixing the outside tables—”

“We were fixing the floral arrangements—”

Lily and Lando quirk a glance at each other, then back towards you and Oscar whose faces are flushed. Oscar coughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Why don’t you guys come and check it out?”

“Yes, please!” Lily squeals, already making her way out the door, the Australian not that far behind. 

Sighing, you go on to follow as well, but there’s this hold on your wrist that just won’t let go. You spin, staring at Lando who clenches his jaw.

“Did you fuck him?”

You flinch. “No—I didn’t.”

Blue eyes fill with warning as he nods, silently thinking to himself before rubbing his chin harshly. “Don’t lie to me. I know what you’re capable of.”

This physically makes you feel sick, ashamed that he knows you for being a lying cheater. “You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, wishing to take it back as soon as it comes out. He raises a brow, clearly surprised. You gulp. “You’re capable of doing the same thing as me, aren’t you? Isn’t that why we’re together?”

“We’re together because I love you.”

“Yeah, well, I love you, too. I’ve literally given up the relationship I had with my sister—for you.” Taking his hands into yours, you knit your brows together softly, and just like that, he melts. “I love you, Lando. There's no need for anyone else.”

Looking past the clear window, Oscar stares at you and the Brit, who share a hug, taking occasional loving pecks as if nothing else matters. 

As if his feelings aren't worth anything. 

“I love it,” Lily says, ripping his gaze from getting hurt any further. Because that’s what this has all led to —him getting hurt. She grins happily, making her way closer. “I really appreciate you two working on this together, it all looks so wonderful.”

Guilt makes his tongue trip as he tries to say something, but when all fails, he settles with a warm smile, pulling her against his chest, kissing the top of her head. “I’d do anything for you, Lily Zneimer.”

With your head resting on Lando’s shoulders, you look out to where the couple stand, in the same embrace. This makes your eyes sting, which is silly because—why do you feel so invalidated? 

Despite being so far apart, you and Oscar are still able to connect, looking at each other with a certain yearning. This is not what this was supposed to be. The Australian would have never dreamt of any other girl that wasn’t Lily, so what happened? 

“I love you,” Lando mumbles, securing his hold on you.

“I love you,” Lily mumbles, face pressed against his heart, feeling it thump fiercely. 

You spare Oscar a smile, and Oscar spares you the same. And neither of you two can bring yourselves to lie.

So, instead, neither of you say it back.

-

It all comes crashing down on you one Sunday morning. 

By now, Lily has graduated, summer is over, and you’re back in Monaco. And for some reason, Lando offered to help get Lily’s picture’s developed. He knew a guy who’d get him a nice discount, apparently. Film is expensive as it is, so of course the British girl accepted. 

You’re sitting outside on the balcony. It’s windy today, and you should probably go back inside, but the ocean looks particularly blue today, so you decide to stay. 

Curling yourself tighter with your blanket, you sigh, staring numbly, mind racing. Because this is a daily occurrence now. 

All. You. Think. About. Is. Him.

Him and his obnoxious smile. Him and his warm brown eyes. Him and his chuckle that sounds dry to everyone else, but lively to you. 

Just…him.

And without a doubt, Lando has figured out that something was wrong with you, but he never asked questions.

Until now.

“Hey,” he says, plopping down next to you, pressing his lips against your temple quickly before smiling. “Have you been here all day?”

You blush, shivering by the sudden breeze. “If I say no, would you believe me?”

“Yes,” he admits, clicking his tongue. “Because apparently I believe almost everything you have to say.”

Including your lies. 

You hear him, but his voice is muffled by now with all that you’re feeling. He handed you an envelope, and you first opened it with curiosity, then with dread and shame when you realized what was inside.

The film.

You’re laughing, eyes shut with delight. 

Your lips are wrapped around his thumb.

Around his cock, too.

Drops of cum lay flat on your tongue.

One where his head is beneath your dress.

One of his hands wrapped around your ankles, a certain number four glimmering.

All of this, and more.

Licking your lips repeatedly, you sit up, staring at him with an open mouth. “Lando—”

“I’m not mad.”

You blink.

He shrugs, taking the pictures, making you want to snatch them back and figure out what to do with them yourself. How could you and Oscar forget to set this one aside?

He can tell that you’re mortified, so he sends a reassuring smile, but it does no good. “I’m not, alright? I’m just…disappointed.” His reaction is confusing, he can tell what you’re thinking. Why is he so okay with this? “I’m not the biggest fan of you lying to me, but whatever, it’s fine.”

“And sure, I should be furious that you two went behind my back, and maybe I am—but I’m willing to let it go because I love you.” The blue eyed boy pecks your lips, you still frozen with shock. He chuckles. “This is what I get, right? This is my karma? For sleeping with you while I was still dating your sister?”

When you still don’t say anything, he nods to himself, as if this is all making sense to him, and only him. “Must be.” A beat. “I forgive you.”

“What about him?” you squeak, scared of his response.

Lando clenches his jaw before breaking into a helpless smile. “He doesn’t have to know, I know. This will just remain between you and I—just like always. He doesn’t have to know. Lily doesn’t have to know.”

You hold yourself from crying because in a way, he’s right. Out of everyone, Lily Zneimer doesn’t deserve any of this. She has been nothing but good to you, and you’re embarrassed to notice now that you ruined a perfectly good friendship. And while she may have no clue, you do, and that’s enough for you to probably wince every time you look at her from now on.

“Just don’t do it again. M’kay?”

Rubbing his thumb against your lips, it’s almost like he’s waiting for something, but when you don’t seem to do whatever he was thinking, his eyes darken, and he gets up with a bitter smile. 

He takes the pictures with him and you don’t know what for.

But you don’t dare ask a single question.

It’s just you. Your thoughts.

And Oscar.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting @chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire @alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @wanderingreigns @aykxz98 @ruti26-11 @esposamultifandom @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @r0nnsblog @aeriblu @inchidentofftrack @natashaklein @rutaceae-gelato @bowielovesyou @lilypat @folklaur21 @dustie-faerie @ajordan2020 @oscobabe @briefkittenearthquake @anayaverse

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than tummies

Been thinking about plushies lately and wanted to make a set of fabric-themed Etrian Odyssey classes for playing as and fighting plushies

Scissorblade - A melee class that specializes in attack buffs and basic attacks, and wields limited elemental damage. Sharp Snip: Melee cut attack. Basic attacks guaranteed to crit next turn. Temper Blades: Increases physical damage and crit chance to one ally line for 3 turns. Double Attack: Passive. Gives a chance to make two basic attacks. Heated/Frosted/Static Edge: Increases physical damage and imbue basic attacks with fire/ice/volt to one ally line for 3 turns. Burning/Frigid/Voltic Cut: Melee cut+fire/ice/volt attack to one enemy line.

Ragstainer - A melee class specializing in ailments, with attacks that lower bind/ailment resistance and ailment attacks that can splash ailments. Rip Up: Melee cut attack. Lowers bind+ailment resistance for 3 turns. Mud Blot: Melee bash attack. Inflicts blind on all enemies in the row. Mud Splash: Inflicts blind on all enemies. On failure, reduces bind+ailment resistance for 3 turns. Bleach Bash: Melee bash attack. If the target has an ailment, remove it to greatly increase damage.

Night-Knight - A defensive melee class that can create extra HP in the form of padding and share it with allies to soak up damage. Fluff Up: Gain a large amount of padding. Auto Fluff: Passive. At start of combat, chance to use Fluff Up for free. Swaddle Ally: Gain some padding. One ally shares user's padding for 3 turns. Swaddle Line: Gain some padding. One ally line shares user's padding for 3 turns. Selfless Swaddle: Gain some padding. For 3 turns, all other party members share user's padding, but the user does not. Pillow Hammer: Melee bash attack. Spend all padding to increase damage proportional to padding spent. Nightfall Hammer: Melee bash attack. Stronger with less remaining HP.

Stitchstabber - A melee class with high speed that can use splash and piece attacks to stitch enemies together; when one enemy is hit by a single-target attack, all stitched enemies are hit. Side-Stitch: Melee stab attack that splashes to adjacent enemies. Hit enemies are stitched together. Straight-Stitch: Ranged stab attack that pierces enemy lines. Hit enemies are stitched together. Rending Needle: Accurate melee stab attack that reduces the target's evasion and physical defense this turn. Painful Needle: Melee stab attack that reduces the target's accuracy and physical attack this turn. Sever Life: Remove stitches to make a powerful ranged cut attack on all stitched enemies with a chance to instant-kill.

Laundromancer - A melee/support class with damage and healing skills that purge buffs/debuffs to increase potency. Dry Out: Melee fire attack that purges a buff and a debuff. If a debuff was removed, increase damage. Wring Out: Melee bash attack that purges all buffs and debuffs. Increase damage for each debuff removed. Soak: Heal an ally and purge a buff and a debuff. If a buff was removed, increase healing and restore TP. Wash Away: Heal a line of allies and purge a buff and a debuff. Increase healing and restore TP to each ally that lost a buff. Good as New: Revive a dead ally and restore a large amount of HP. Spin Cycle: Ranged ice attack to all enemies that purges all buffs and debuffs. Increase damage to all enemies for each debuff removed.

Threadspinner - A ranged class that can strike and bind enemy lines with lashes of thread, or throw needles that hit bound enemies extra hard. Head/Arm/Leg Lash: Ranged cut attack to an enemy line. Binds head/arms/legs. Coiling Lash: Ranged cut attack. Binds head+arms+legs. Piercing Needle: Ranged stab attack that pierces enemy lines. Increased damage to bound enemies. Vicious Needle: Ranged stab attack. Increased damage for each bind on the target. Needle Rain: 8 ranged stab attacks to random enemies. Cannot hit the same enemy more than three times. Increased damage to bound enemies.

Dyesplasher - A ranged class wielding elements, buffs/debuffs, and ailments, giving it a versatile and flexible toolkit. Red/Blue/Yellow Splat: Ranged fire/ice/volt attack. Inflict panic/poison/paralysis. Red/Blue/Yellow Wave: Ranged fire/ice/volt attack to all enemies. Color Cloak: Increases elemental defense to all allies. Red Ruin/Blue Blues/Yellow Yelp: Reduce fire/ice/volt resistance and physical attack/elemental attack/bind+ailment rate to an enemy line for 3 turns. Rainbow Mixture: For 3 turns, increase an ally's elemental damage and ailment rate, and make fire, ice, or volt attacks become fire+ice+volt. (note: due to the way damage types work in Etrian Odyssey, more elements is always better)

Plushstuffer - A ranged/support class that uses builds up stuffing as it uses basic skills, then uses it for powerful plushie skills. Cotton Catapult: Ranged elementless attack. Get 1 stuffing. Unwind/Pluck Off: Remove a bind/ailment from an ally and restore a small amoung of HP. Get 1 stuffing. Tiger Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to make 5 ranged bash attacks against random enemies. Cannot hit the same enemy more than twice. Increased damage with more stuffing. Frog Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to heal all allies and remove binds/ailments. Increased healing with more stuffing. Unicorn Plushie: Spend all stuffing (max 3) to attempt to revive/heal all allies. Increased chance with more stuffing, 100% at 3.

Outfitter - A support class with a wide arsenal of buff skills, which can be spread to buff multiple allies or combined to use multiple on one ally. Can also steal enemy buffs and bind them with restrictive clothing. Daring Clothes: Unlocks the Phys/Elem Attack, Act Speed, and Bind+Ailment Rate clothing skills. Practical Clothes: Unlocks the Phys/Elem Defense, Endure Chance, and Bind+Ailment Res clothing skills. Comfortable Clothes: Unlocks the Regeneration, TP Discount, and Accuracy+Evasion clothing skills. Fashion Line: Use a clothing skill on an ally line. Mass Production: Use a clothing skill on all allies. Custom Fit: Combine two clothing skills into 1 buff on an ally, then double the duration of that buff. Bespoke Garb: Combine three clothing skills into 1 buff on an ally. Catwalk Showoff: This turn, buffed allies deal more damage. Flattery: Steal a buff from an enemy and give it to all allies. Mask/Mittens/Heels: Inflict head/arm/leg bind on an enemy.

Patchmender - A support class with healing and cure skills that apply patches to allies, boosting their stats or negating binds/ailments. Athletic Patch: Heal an ally and boost their phys/elem attack for 3 turns. Athletic Mending: Heal a line of allies and boost their phys/elem attack for 3 turns. Reinforced Patch: Heal an ally and boost their phys/elem defense for 3 turns. Aromatic Patch: Heal an ally and give them regeneration for 3 turns. Patched Tear: Revive a dead ally and give them a chance to endure death once in the next 3 turns. Mended Knot/Stain: Remove a bind/ailment from a line of allies and negate the next bind/ailment they would receive in the next 3 turns.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

No One Else

This idea came to me whilst I was lying on my bed so here you Bucky fans go! You're welcome! Reader has fire powers in this fic and it's set in an AU where Bucky lives in the Avengers Tower + goes on missions with them.

Summary: Your marriage proposal to Bucky doesn't quite go how you expected it to...

"Can't believe we're actually doing Operation: Rescue the Genius Billionaire." You twirl the knife in your hand, sliding it into its sheath as you stand up, stretching.

"You're the one who volunteered for it. And then proceeded to volunteer me," Bucky snorts, double checking his rifle. "You only have yourself to blame for this."

"Hey, this means we'll probably get to share his black card. Think of all the expensive things we could buy!" You laugh. "Or at least I hope we'll be able to."

"Did you just sign us up for a dangerous mission with no guaranteed reward?" Bucky shakes his head, ruffling your hair. "If either of us die on this mission I'm blaming you."

"Good thing we're both pretty hard to kill." You flash him a grin, moving to the door of the plane. It's almost at your destination and adrenaline is coursing through your veins. Blue flames flicker at your fingertips, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice. You can't recall the last time you felt this excited to go on a mission, maybe it's the fact that you've been partnered up with your favourite super soldier after what feels like forever, maybe it's the fact that Tony is going to owe you a big favour after this, or maybe it's the thrill of the fight to come.

"Fortunately." Bucky hums, walking over to stand next to you. "The amount of stupidity you bring along on missions would've killed a normal person at least a hundred times over."

"Hey I'm blaming the influence a certain idiot has on me. You know, the idiot currently standing in the same plane as me because he couldn't turn me down." You feel Bucky place his hand on your back, patting you a few times before adding a little more force as the door opens and sends you flying out of the plane. Thousands of feet in the air without a parachute. This bastard.

A long string of swear words flow from your lips, spoken in every language you can think of and you swear Bucky is laughing from up inside the plane. You can picture it clearly, his lips quirking upwards, the mirth in his ice blue eyes, the pat on the back he definitely gave himself before diving out of the plane.

Oh.

You twist your body so that you face upwards just in time to see a figure diving towards you. More curses spill forth as said figure wraps his arms around you, grinning as if the both of you aren't falling through the air with no parachute in sight.

"You know you're not that light, right?" You grunt, resisting the urge to bite him.

"Pure muscle and a metal arm, doll." He flashes you a smirk as you try to pry the super soldier off you to no avail.

"If we both go splat on the ground it's your fault."

"Then you're just going to have to ensure that doesn't happen, doll. I'm counting on you." You hate it when he says those four words. It always makes you fold and he knows it.

"You — You're going to be the death of me someday," you scowl. He only laughs, brown hair fluttering in the wind as you both plummet towards the ground and you feel your chest grow strangely warm. Your heart pounds against the ribs that cage it, stomach flipping when his eyes meet yours, his gaze soft and carefree. "Don't regret relying on me."

"Do I ever?" His thumb brushes over your skin, electricity crackling at the contact and you nearly lose concentration. You swallow, pushing his face away and he laughs again, the sound a beautiful melody to your ears. Shoving your bubbling feelings down, you focus on your descent towards the ground that is coming up to meet you rather fast.

"Hang on tight!" Gathering the flames within you, you push them outwards via your feet and shoot towards the warehouse where Tony is being kept, adrenaline causing your lips to curl upwards into a maniacal grin. Blue flames roar around the both of you, under your firm control and devour the roof of the warehouse before it can even touch either of you.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Tony smirks, watching you and Bucky land in a fiery blaze next to him. "And with such a fiery entrance too, what a show-off."

"You're welcome." You roll your eyes, meeting Bucky's gaze. He nods, and you conjure a ring of flames around the three of you, pushing it outwards as he lunges at the nearest kidnapper. A quick flick of the wrist from you burns through the ropes holding Tony hostage and you turn your attention to the fight happening in front of you.

Dodging the swing of an electrified baton, you slam your foot into your attacker's chest, sending him stumbling backwards. Fire daggers follow suit, flying in his direction and he slams into the wall, slumping to the floor. Whirling around, you fire a blast of flame at someone who was trying to ambush Bucky from behind and throw up a flame wall to give the super soldier a moment of respite. He shoots you a glance and gives a signal before jumping through the blue wall of fire, unloading his rifle's magazine into the unfortunate souls in front of him. A quick reload later he spins around, taking aim and fires another barrage but this time around his bullets are reinforced by your flames, piercing through the air at a startling speed and hitting their targets.

It doesn't take long for the kidnappers to fall to the combined might of you and the Winter Soldier. Before long there's only three beings left standing in the warehouse — you, Bucky and Tony.

"Go team," Tony cheers sarcastically, clapping as he makes his way over. "Didn't expect either of you, really."

"You're welcome. Now as for payment, I'll take your black card for at least one week with no spending limit —" You're cut off as Bucky shoves you aside.

"Ignore the idiot. A helicopter is on its way to pick us up, it'll be here in fifteen." Bucky ignores the punches you're landing on his right shoulder and ruffles your hair.

"I'm the idiot? When you jumped out of the plane without a parachute?" You yelp, dodging his attempts to further mess up your hair.

"I knew you'd catch me. That's called trust, not idiocy."

"It's called idiocy when you dive straight at me in midair!"

"I knew you'd be able to create an entrance into the warehouse, I simply tagged along so we'd get here faster."

"We could have died if I couldn't conjure enough flame to send us both flying here!"

"But we didn't."

"That doesn't mean you're not an idiot! It just means I'm powerful enough, you idiot!"

"Maybe the idiocy is contagious. I think you've spread it to me, doll." He laughs, leaning out of the way of your punch. "We can be idiots together!"

"I'm not an idiot!" You tackle him to the ground which only causes him to laugh harder. He effortlessly blocks your fists, ice blue eyes twinkling with mirth before flipping you over, trapping you underneath his bulk.

"Don't worry doll, being an idiot isn't always a bad thing —"

"Get off me you oaf!" You howl.

Tony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The two of you argue like a married couple, just get married already and spare the rest of us."

Bucky blinks, staring at Tony while you push him off you, climbing to your feet.

"Yeah so when are we getting married?" You run your fingers through your hair, stretching. He stares at you blankly, mouth opening and closing. You see his throat bob, his metal fist clenching and unclenching — his usual signs of nervousness and feel your heart plummet. He doesn't say anything, not a single word falls from his snarky tongue. Your attention quickly shifts to the helicopter that has arrived just in time to prevent a lengthy period of awkward silence but the ride back to the Avengers Tower is filled with tension that makes even Tony uncomfortable.

Once the helicopter lands, Bucky doesn't even try to help you down. He simple leaves, walking straight to his room and locks the door without speaking a single word to you. You watch as he leaves, barely hearing Tony's passing apology through the ringing in your ears and feel a pit growing in your stomach.

Is this it? After all that time spent cultivating this relationship with Bucky that you love and cherish, this is how it ends?

After taking a much needed shower, you collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Did you overstep? Had you read your relationship wrong? Curling underneath your blanket, you swallow the tears that threaten to spill over, fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm. You want nothing more than to take it all back, to preserve your relationship with Bucky. It brought you so much joy, happiness, even if sometimes you didn't act like it did. You had cherished all the time spent with him, whether it was fooling around or going on missions, the only thing that mattered was the fact that you had someone to tease, banter with, be yourself with.

"Y/N?" A voice sounds from outside your room door. Bucky. "May I come in?"

You pause, gripping the sheets. Your heart thunders, anxiety gnawing away at you but your hand finds its way to the door handle and pulls the door open anyways. The brunette shifts anxiously then pulls out a box of your favourite snacks, offering it to you.

"A peace offering?" He bites his lip, gaze flicking to everywhere but you.

"Sure." The word clogs up your throat and you take the box, stepping to the side to let him in. Closing the door behind you, you gesture to the bed. "You can take a seat there."

He nods, taking his usual spot on your bed and you take your seat next to him. He plays with the hem of his shirt, Adam's apple bobbing and exhales sharply. "Did you mean it? When you asked when we were getting married?"

You blink, mouth opening and closing before giving a nod. "I did."

The words come out as a whisper, your chest constricting and tears begin to blur your vision. "I'm sorry I —"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." Bucky reaches over, taking your hand in his. "It's just…are you sure about it? I'm not someone you should be stuck with for the rest of your life. You deserve someone better, someone who can give you the life you deserve, the family you seek. I can't give you any of that."

"So who do you think can?" You squeeze his hand, looking him in the eye. "Tony? Steve?"

"Tony would be a pretty good choice. He's handsome, rich, can take care of you —"

"Yeah sure Tony is handsome. But he's not the one I call handsome, is he?" You lean in. "You're the one I call handsome."

"That — that's because —" His cheeks redden and he looks away, embarrassed.

"You're the one I want, not Tony, not Steve, not anyone else. I know what I'm getting into, proposing to you but I want this. I've never been more sure of anything in my life, I know I want you in my life forever, to be by my side forever, to intertwine my fate with yours and be yours as much as you are mine. I know the burdens you carry, you know the burdens I carry, and I'm willing to help you shoulder yours, if you will let me." You gently turn his face towards you, earnestly looking into his ice blue eyes. He locks gazes with you and you see the tears that have started to form.

"Will you?"

He blinks and tears start to flow down his cheeks. You simply continue to hold onto his hand and feel him squeeze yours.

"If you will have me."

You beam, pulling him in for a kiss that he returns with a hungry desperation and feel his metal arm wrap around you.

"Of course I will," you whisper breathlessly, breaking the kiss for air. "I love you, James."

"I love you too, Y/N." He cups your cheek with both hands, metal and flesh thumb brushing over your skin then presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"This wasn't how I expected my proposal to go, really. I had something way better planned out but Tony had to just go and ruin it." You chuckle softly and he smiles.

"You can propose to me again, doll. I don't mind."

"I'd quite like to get married, thank you very much handsome." You boop him on the nose, laughing at the way he wrinkles it immediately.

"So, Tony's black card?" He queries, ruffling your hair.

"Of course. We're going to put the wedding tab on him, on top of a few other valuable items as payment for rescuing him. He can't say no, not after he told us to get married." You grin, swatting his hand away before your hair can get messed up even further. "I can't wait to choose all the most expensive options."

Bucky huffs in amusement, catching your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. "I can't wait to get married to you. You're the only one for me, no one else."

"You're the only one for me," you echo, smiling. "No one else."

[ogrepoppenangleaksofficial]

Do you guys like fan theory and speculation?

Because I'm wondering if you guys have been deliberately playing into the old connections between WoD and Exalted, and it keeps showing up. Big D specifically has a lot of Solar themes. A bit mad, and specifically mad in being passionate, bombastic, and larger than life. Grand in his ties. Ruled by the virtues of Compassion, Valor, and Conviction. Doesn't make him a Solar, even Big D is too low key for that, but notable given the ties between Solars and Hunters in the old lore. (Also a very, very fun crack theory to play with) All of the hunters, in fact, have a notable visual motif where — In their moment of need — things go their way and they just so happen to be framed by gold light like a very low key aura. Notable since a Solar's power is meant to come to them in their hour of greatest need and a blazing aura of sunlight. It's most frequent with Big D, but Kitten gets it upon finding the stilts, Remold when he takes his shot in Fatigue's name, and Marcus gets it when finding the eye, and Fatigue is outright haloed when coming to Spit's aid. Kitten's character sheet also pulls up a very Exalted sounding note with how "Will this [family bond] be our strength or our ultimate undoing?" pulls up one of Exalted's biggest themes. Boy's story... Do I even have to say anything? Probably, but I might run out of space if I went into detail. Picture Perfect Solar exaltation, on the nose Sidereal mentor, Not sure if Dragonblooded, 40k space marine reference, or both. Muddled maybe Infernal/ Maybe Abyssal exaltation. And I'll leave it at that. The mages of Norfolk Wizard Game are all dressed in thematically appropriate Sidereal colors. Blue, Green, Yellow, Red, and Purple. Too many to list, but the ones who get in fights wear red, (even just a red tie for a man in black) the ones who play into secrets wear green, the one who ushers in the ending via the transition to Awakening wears purple, blue serenity doesn't on the face of it match Samsons deal aside from dealing with Matter and what things are... (but does fit the Technocratic therapist) and the teleporting conspiracy theorist with the RV wears the yellow of Journeys. On which themes, Big D specifically invokes the morning star, Venus, to bring serenity to a vampire as she chooses to meet the sun's light. On the NWG clock I'm definitely off the deep end. Creation wasn't meant to be Pangaea... but if you flipped it upside down and Atlantised the Blessed Isle... I'm still probably reaching. (OTOH, deleting the heart of the Realm and the main empire of the Dragonblooded before whatever apocalypse came about would explain why the Kindred of the East aren't a thing in this take on WoD given the ties between the two splats) It feels like there's more I could dig for given how recently I came across the series, but that will do for now. So, yeah. It looks like there are a lot of Exalted nods and references in Hunter the Parenting, so to put this naked excuse for fan speculation in hopes of delighting the work's creators in the form of a question: What's up with that?

[giuliettagaltieri]

Masterlist

 K. Bakugō • E. Jaeger • M. O’Hara • S. Gojō • N. Zen’in • C. Snow

R. Cameron • C. Leclerc

Charles Leclerc

♡ Overdrive

Synopsis: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ever dream of but in a single day, he loses everything.  He wakes up in the bed of a stranger in a place he never heard of with no phone, no money, and his identity, practically useless.  Stripped of a life he once knew, Charles must navigate a world that is far too different from his own as nothing more than an ordinary man.

Chapter Count: ?

Rafe Cameron

♡ Lovesick Little Thing

Synopsis: You follow Rafe around like a lovesick puppy until you start messing up over and over leading to a sequence of stupidly unfortunate events that you have nobody else to blame but yourself.

Chapter Count: 4

♡ Capitol Darling

Chapter Synopsis: Aspiring President Coriolanus Snow and Business Tycoon Rafe Cameron fights for your hand.

Word Count: 584

♡ Not Your Girl

Synopsis: You opened your eyes (Part ii)

Word Count: 2209

♡ Not Her Man

Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow (Part ii)

Word Count: 3193

♡ His Girl

Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat (Part iii)

Word Count: 4532

Coriolanus Snow

♡ Hunt for Glory

Synopsis: After living under the shadow of legacy of your fathers, you and Coriolanus Snow decide it is time to climb to the top, to reclaim what was yours.  You are a convenient ally, a dangerous and sly woman, and to his luck, it seems your heart was tender for him, until it no longer was

Chapter Count: 6

♡ Quest for Happiness

Synopsis: You got what you wanted. Power over Panem is on your hands. But after fighting in a battle of schemes and ruse, Coriolanus and you face a much more complex adversity. Together, you are a force to reckon with but when the odds seem to not be so much in your favor, will you manage to remain together?

Chapter Count: 7

♡ Smile for Me

Synopsis: With your family involved with the politics of Panem, it was expected of Coriolanus to make you the First Lady. Only, he cannot return your affections as he long gave up on such pursuits and only wanted a loveless marriage, until he had to listen to you make a stand for your beloved fabric.

Word Count: 1653

♡ Capitol Darling

Chapter Synopsis: Aspiring President Coriolanus Snow and Business Tycoon Rafe Cameron fights for your hand.

Word Count: 584

♡ Black, White, and Blood Red

Chapter Synopsis: Neither of you are safe in the arms of the other.

Word Count: 793

Gojō Satoru

♡ A River of Honey

Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.

Word Count: 1142

♡ Where the Blue Roses Grow

Series Synopsis: Snippets from the life of Gojō Satoru and yours.  Where the two of you journey on a path that was predetermined for you, with hearts bruised and unforeseen emotions blossoming.

Chapter Count: 9

Miguel O’Hara

♡ Project: Galatea

Synopsis: Allowing you sentience made things more complicated between you and Miguel.  But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Word Count: 6218 

♡ Project: Pandora

Synopsis: You are experiencing things for the first time and you can’t wait to explore what the multiverse has to offer, but for now, you’ll start with a messy college dorm room.

Word Count: 2174 

♡ Project: Eros

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back.  But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Word Count: 5435

Eren Jaeger

♡ Sparkly Pink Skirt

Synopsis: When you are head over heels for Eren since high school, he finds it difficult to take in when you start to avoid him.

Word Count: 2586 

♡ Be Careful Not to Spill

Synopsis: Eren does not agree with the euthanasia plan and he will show them, with a little help from you.

Word Count: 2149

♡ Home is Where You Are

Synopsis: As Eren’s past comes to pay him a visit, you come to realize that love can come in all shapes.

Word Count: 1526

♡ Just Kiss Her Already

Synopsis: Craving for academic validation, you find an unexpected challenger who might have hurt your feelings, just a bit.

Word Count: 1724

♡ Kruger and Vixen

Synopsis: Having a love-hate relationship is fun until Eren messes it up, driving you away.

Word Count: 7077

♡ Number One Fan 

Synopsis: You have always been there to cheer him on, if only he would look at you the same way you look at him.  But who are you compared to the all too perfect Mikasa?

Word Count: 5496

♡ Cherry Flavored Kisses

Synopsis: The life as Eren Jaeger’s girl fascinated you, but it was nothing compared to the fascination you feel for the man, himself.  He could be nice if he wanted.  But nothing is as bittersweet as a love unrequited.

Word Count: 5862

♡ Doctor’s Order

Synopsis: You could not make your crush on Dr. Eren Jaeger any more obvious.  And even though you can tolerate his usual cold demeanor, you also know when to draw the line.  1 of 3.

Word Count: 1792

♡ Progress Notes

Synopsis: You are having fun, trying new things and meeting other people while Eren disproves the saying, “Out of sight, out of mind.”  2 of 3.

Word Count: 1370

♡ Care Plan

Synopsis: You’re back from your trip and a certain surgeon finds it difficult to not be in the receiving end of your undivided attention.  3 of 3.

Word Count: 1269

♡ Road Rage & Malibu Barbie

Synopsis: You may look like a barbie doll who got lost on her way back to her dreamhouse but Eren never fails to break your front quite often than you'd like

Word Count: 2292

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ At Daybreak

Synopsis: Yesterday's rejection made an awkward morning more awkward.  Mix in a ghost and a cookie jar, this morning is bound to be interesting.  Who knew that the Bakugou Katsuki knows how to tease girls?

Word count: 1401

♡ Hero Too

Synopsis: Being a hero means so much more than just the career that Bakugou chose and you wanted to prove that to him and a series of unfortunate events might just let that happen, because dammit! You’re a hero too!

Word Count: 3,553

♡ Still Jealous

Synopsis: Bakugou tries his best to be a good boyfriend when you get hit with a jealousy quirk.  And when cuddles don't work, leave it to Bakugou to come up with other ways to help.

Words: 712

♡ You call Bakugou “pretty”

♡ Manga omake

Naoya Zen’in

Coming Soon

[nexmalin]

Part 3

Bumblebee, however, wasn’t the only one with problems with his processor, and it didn’t take long for Breakdown to have a spiral of his own. Little more than a week passed before Breakdown began to see things… things he always begged to Primus to never see again.

The stunticon gently stroked Bumblebee’s helm, finally falling into recharge after a minor derealization episode, smiling softly as Bumblebee leaned into his servo. Every time he tried to pull away, Bumblebee would unconsciously chase the warmth of his servo. However, for the past few days, he had been feeling off, in a way that he just couldn’t put into words, a growing feeling that was similar to dread, but not quite dread. Breakdown blinked, and looked around him And it was all dull static around him, unintelligible whispers surrounding him, loud enough to hear, but too quiet to decipher. Wait… Where did Bumblebee go? He was just here, Breakdown could still feel the lingering warmth from Bumblebee’s helm.

He stood up, and shouted “Bee!” Trying to signal where he was to wherever the gold mech was. Then, a gust of wind that felt like a punch to the gut caused Breakdown to keel, and cough at the sudden sensation. Another gust that reminded him of an uppercut forcing him to stand straight up.

A servo emerged from the static, and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him up, giving him little way to fight back. His optics widened in shock and horror, as the distorted, melted face of Menasor approaching him slowly, the uncanny, warped version of what he used to be apart of gripping his neck cables, cutting of energon supply to his head.

Menasor growled and garbled out, “Brea-kdown…” clumpy oil falling from their mouth, falling and colliding with the ground with a slick splat. He was thrown and crashed to the ground, shaking as he tried to get back up. When he looked up, Wildrider was standing there, and sneered, “Really? Already shaking? You were always the weak one.” Breakdown had no time to react before he was kicked in the chest, almost landing on his back strut, before he was caught by the chest plate. Dead End pulled Breakdown until he was almost standing, and then he spat out, “You were stupid enough to let your guard down,”. Then, he was head butted, and he slammed into the ground, a sharp pain erupting from his helm, causing him to cry out in pain.

A pressure began to appear on his chest, and Drag Strip was standing over him, one pede on his chest, glaring down at Breakdown. Drag Strip snarled, “You were always the one dragging us down.” And he lifted his pede before slamming it down on Breakdown’s chest. He coughed and wheezed, trying to scramble away, before a servo gripped the nape of his neck painfully.

He didn’t even need to see who was behind him, already knowing who it was. “You are pathetic, Breakdown.” The raspy voice all too familiar. “You couldn’t even follow instructions,” Breakdown shivered, feeling optical fluid well in his optics. The servo on his nape tightened, and he tried to wrench himself free. “So weak…”. Breakdown could feel the panic building, “You are a disgrace to everything we stood for. So disappointing, you showed so much promise to be something powerful, something to contribute. But you threw that all away for an Autobot scout.”

It hurt, it hurt so much, just hearing those words. “You really are just an insolent little failure” Motormaster growled, tightening the grip on Breakdown’s nape, cutting off his energon flow.

He then felt small, servos on his wrists, and a familiar gold began fading in. Breakdown heard the distant cries of his name, Bumblebee’s voice cutting off Motormaster. The stunticon leaders servo suddenly was no longer on his neck replaced by his own. And they were splattered with glowing pink energon. As the static faded, Bumblebee was looking up and him, screaming his name, blue optics wide with worry. Breakdown gasped and collapsed, looking around, noticing that they were no longer in the warehouse, instead they were in the forest, well, somewhere in the forest.

His servos fell, and Bumblebee pulled gauze from his subspace, wrapping it loosely around Breakdown’s neck, knowing that Breakdown did not like the feeling of his neck being constricted. Gently, Bumblebee spoke, “Hey… are you back with me?”

Breakdown shakily nodded, turning his helm, trying to hide his tears from Bumblebee, however, the Autobot cupped Breakdown’s cheek, and used his thumb to wipe away the tears. The stunticon pulled Bumblebee close, burying his face into Bumblebee’s shoulder. As Breakdown tried to explain, despite not wanting to, the gold bot shushed him, “You don’t have to talk. It’s okay…You’re okay…I’m here.”. Breakdown never understood how others could be so emotional from some words, but Bumblebee’s soft voice, his servo stroking his helm, and the sweet nothings whispered into his audio receptors caused Breakdown to tighten his hold around Bumblebee, and just cry. Let out every moment of pain, psychological torment, and every ounce of bottled up feelings concealed for hundreds of thousands of years, finally let out.

(BD headcanons inspired by @my-anndreamer !!!)

[reserved-system]

Renchanting Splatoon AU

Artist is not immune to Treebark/Renchanting propaganda

More Splatoon AU! This time with these two bastards. You know the drill! Rambles + bonus context under cut

Ren and Martyn go way back, like Octolings being trapped underground far back in Splatoon 2 before Octo expansion.

Originally, they were both soldiers deployed to Octo Canyon, that's how they met! Ren's the older and taller of the two, also tallest from his section. A lot of their scars come from their time serving, from falling debris or what have you. Ren has the most character building so lets hop into that.

During his time serving, Ren was stationed on a stage where Agent 4 (or the protag from Splatoon2) had to use a charger to get around the stage and splat enemies. They wouldn't know the effects of this until they were freed and released to the surface.

After they were released to the surface, they all took off their Octoshades for the final time. While the other Octolings were amazed by the bright, warm sunlight, Ren could hardly see a thing, the bright light over powering his vision. After taking so many brightly colored charger shots to the face, his eyes had developed a light sensitivity forcing him to wear sunglasses wherever he went. His eyes were blue, but because of the yellow charger shots over time his eyes shifted from light blue to a lemon-lime-y yellow. Idk how to describe it.

Martyn and Ren were already close from serving together, so when Ren had trouble seeing, Martyn would grab his hand and lead him places, even sharing a flat together.

I see them as queer platonic partners. Ren is Aroace while Martyn is unlabeled, not really caring enough to put a label on whatever he has going on but he does experience some romantic attraction but that's not the driving force behind them

Martyn keeps spare sunglasses for Ren on hand, just in case :] and sometimes Martyn will also wears sunglasses so Ren doesn't feel awkward for wearing them in stores or inside buildings, etc.

Unfortunately due to his condition, Ren isn't able to participate during Splatfests so instead they have their own party for the weekend and anyone who isn't going to be participating in the fest are always welcome to join them.

I don't know if you've noticed but Ren has a HARD resting bitch face (rbf) because of his sunglasses. You'd sit across from him on the tran and he'd looks so displeased to be there until you actually talk to him and he's so bright and bubbly to talk to. Martyn has a more expressive face but I'd say his default expression is focused.

RIGHT. I ALMOST FORGOT.

Ren is a Splatana Wiper main and Martyn is a Gold Dynamo Roller main. I have more thoughts and headcanons about them but I think I'll save it for another post.

Hey! Thanks for reading about my silly lil AU, it means the world <3

[cyborg-franky]

Okay, dumb thought hours. I'm pretty sure Marco had his power *before* he joined the wbp.

But what if he got it after but still as a kid? Imagine a young pineapple climbing up the mast trying to learn to fly like baby birds jumping out the nest.

He jumps, hits the floor like THUD SPLAT and there is nothing for a few moments then he just erupts in blue flames and wings and everyone's just like *you okay buddy?*

Between the goth phase wanted poster and that story Pops always tells/shows every ew love interest Marco has.

Only way to embaress him.

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

Fic Link: "Throw Me-"

Trying a new way to link fics to ao3 since the old link always dies on me :( tho it's under the cut like always @murkystarlight

Summary:

Logan throws Izzie … but like, she asked for it

Additional Tags:

Shapeshifting. do not try this at home. Ficlet. Logan’s powers are emotion based, he’s still figuring it out tho. dumbass energy

“Throw me.” 

Logan twisted around, quite certain he had heard Izzie wrong. Her gremlin grin and t-stance made him question that however. 

“Say again?” He asked. 

Izzie sighed, letting her arms flop against her sides as she scurried forward until she was right up in Logan’s personal space. 

“I said throw me.” 

Logan narrowed his eyes slightly in return. He was never one to say no to a dumb plan, but throwing the younger girl like a baseball? Well that seemed like a slightly dumber idea than normal. Did she want him to throw her and then fly after to catch her? 

“Throw you?” Logan repeated a little bit skeptical. 

Izzie nodded vigorously, “MHM!” 

Logan snorted. He could feel someone in the back of his head instantly start to vote no against the idea but a larger thought of ‘why the heck not?’ over road it quickly. 

“Al’ight,” Logan gave a shrug, “Your funeral.” 

Izzie gave a “PFFF-“ and waved a hand in front of her face, “I’ll be fine. I have a spect-abular plan.” 

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched up in amusement, “ Spect-abular plan?” 

Her mischievous grin deeped, “I’m going to land in an ice cream sundae!” 

Logan barked a laugh, “Ten outta ten idea Iz-Bee.” 

He took a few steps back, moving his hands to hold them up in front of him as he clenched his fists. His teeth grit together as he forced himself to focus on a single thought to draw his Panda form out: hunt.

It was an uncomfortable thought to force on himself to draw his Panda form out, especially after what had happened with the crown of control but it was the best way to summon it to the forefront. Just like how his Lo-Lo form was shifted into easiest when he was angry. Perhaps he would have preferred to use a different form but he was still having a bit of trouble shifting into his tiger and bird form. 

A growl, and he could feel himself begin to grow. Fur sprouting, teeth elongating, entire body turning into a large blue and white Panda. 

Izzie took a hop back, excitement flashing across her face. 

“Ehehehe!! Pandamonium!!” 

Logan grinned down at her and stomped a foot. 

“Ready?” His voice came out quite deep which was a little jarring for his ears to hear for a second. 

Izzie gave him two thumbs ups, “Yep!!” 

Logan reached down, letting Izzie climb into his hand before hoisting her back behind him slightly so he could get ready to throw her. 

“Set!?” He called back. 

“GO!” Izzie exclaimed and following her direction Logan swung his arm forward to launch her into the air. 

Izzie soared through the air for at least a few seconds before gravity took hold and she started to come back down to dream world ground. Logan braced, ready to run to try and catch her but thankfully Izzie knew what she was doing and dream crafted up a larger than life bowl of ice cream underneath her to break her fall. 

Izzie landed with a splat and droplets of slightly melted ice cream jumped out of the bowl to land on the ground. A few moments later Izzie’s head popped up to peer over the side of the bowl. 

“VICTORY!” She yelled. 

Logan snickered and threw up his arms with a twinning cheer.   

[pretzel-box]

[1 of 5 of Sasha's Background Files. Including some heavy topics like human experiments. This series is a work of fiction. Cordelia belongs to @splatting-stampede ]

Sasha Mariya Lazarski was often referred to as an artificial god, someone who had climbed so high that her fingers seemed capable of scratching stars from the sky with pure force. Countless hours of research had fueled her ascent. Miss Lazarski had the audacity to challenge the work of gods by raising the scalpel, taking human beings and transforming them into living dolls. She would disassemble their limbs, twist their joints, and rearrange what should have remained in place. She stripped the human out of humanity, from her subjects, and reshaped them into grotesque forms—masses of flesh, kept alive only by the tubes her workers had threaded through their bodies.

Yet, there were two sides to her.

Mariya, the woman who wore her long hair in a ponytail interwoven with carefully braided strands. Each day, she put effort into creating a new hairstyle, hoping to impress her fiancé, who always insisted that no matter how she styled it, she was as beautiful as the first day he saw her. Mariya preferred her coffee with two sugars, a shot of milk, and hazelnut syrup—a concoction more akin to liquid diabetes than coffee, but like many things, it was just another matter of personal taste. In her free time, she knitted scarves, dyed her hair every two weeks, and harbored a strong addiction to sudoku.

Sasha, on the other hand, wore her hair in a messy bun, with pencils and pens tucked into it when there was no room left behind her ears. She had an awful habit of biting her nails when under pressure, leaving them bleeding or infected. But pain was something that receded to the back of her mind when she was working. Gods don’t feel pain; they feel power. Sasha was one of Urbanshade’s top researchers, leading her own team and forcing countless humans through the trial stages she’d designed—all with the help of a mysterious drug gifted to her by a stranger.

Both were one and the same person.

One Monday afternoon, the coffee machine on the fourth floor broke again, in desperate need of a deep cleaning after someone spilled half a box of coffee creamer over it. Whether it was a wild animal that broke in or a lazy coworker with shaky hands, no one could say. Miss Lazarski glanced at her empty mug, her face twisting in disappointment, and picked up the remaining coffee creamer. She drank it straight from the box, grimacing at the taste but at least temporarily quenching her thirst. She then tossed the box in the trash, followed shortly by her mug—there was no time or energy to return it to the shelf when far more important matters demanded her attention.

One such matter was Cordelia. A simple name in a file filled with far more complex issues than a police report. Miss Lazarski had spent the previous night poring over Cordelia’s data. She knew everything—her family history, where she worked, what her favorite food was, whether she had ever stolen anything. Miss Lazarski even knew all the embarrassing high school stories Cordelia had lived through. And if you asked the blue-haired woman what she thought of her subject, the answer would be clear: Cordelia was, is, and always will be utterly boring. Ordinary at best. Miss Lazarski had wasted hours of her night studying someone who was replaceable and insignificant. She even used Cordelia’s photographs from the file as a coaster, now stained with coffee rings, marking the same forgettable face on every page.

The same forgettable face sat before Miss Lazarski, dressed in the drab, degrading prison uniform that was an affront to human dignity—and to her personal aesthetic. Telling Cordelia to strip out of that pathetic cloth wasn’t exactly an option at the moment, especially with the soldiers standing guard at the entrance, watching the prisoner closely. Not that Miss Lazarski particularly respected human rights, not with her work so deeply entrenched in the shadows of ethics. But she could afford to respect a person’s privacy—sometimes. A single glance was all it took. Cordelia hadn’t been able to shower in a while; her hair was a greasy, tangled mess that hung in front of her face. Bruises mottled her skin in shades of purple and green, some fresh, some fading. The sight made Miss Lazarski smile faintly. Cordelia was clever. She’d clearly been through some altercations but hadn’t fought back. She’d taken the hits. Prison was a psychological battleground, and this woman had chosen survival over pride. Not that it mattered anymore—Miss Lazarski was here for a very specific purpose.

"Welcome." Miss Lazarski began, her tone clipped and professional. "Let’s get a few things straight. I’m Professor Doctor Lazarski. I wasn’t originally scheduled to meet with you today, but my colleague from the legal department is… unavailable, so I’ve been sent in their place to collect your data. I’m a researcher at Urbanshade, a rather prestigious company. Perhaps you’ve heard of us, perhaps not."

Cordelia’s eyes, wide and cautious, tracked Miss Lazarski’s movements, her silence an indication of either confusion or wariness. It was clear she was trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the blue-haired woman’s words.

"Dizziness?" Miss Lazarski’s voice sharpened, her gaze analyzing Cordelia with the precision of a scalpel. "Your movements are sluggish, the way you're sitting suggests something more than just those bruises. No… you’ve suffered trauma. Recent trauma, in fact. It hasn’t had time to heal. If it had been there longer, the doctors would’ve patched you up. Or perhaps they’ve decided that a walking corpse isn’t worth treating."

Cordelia met her gaze, struggling to process the flood of clinical observations.

"Dizziness, a ringing in your ears, loss of hearing, and the pain… someone hit you hard, didn’t they? Did it bleed?" Miss Lazarski’s questions were cold, almost indifferent, as if she were dissecting a subject under a microscope rather than speaking to a human being.

„I will take care of that, when you accept our offer. We invite you to a special program. It is simple enough. We will free you and you assist us with a small task.“

Miss Cordelia was gone—vanished, erased from existence in less than 48 hours after signing her name on Miss Lazarski’s documents. Case closed.

“I don’t notice a difference.” Charles chuckled, seated at the dinner table, turning two plain bottles slowly in his hands, studying their labels. Mariya watched him from the stove, where she was lazily waiting for the leftovers from the fridge to heat up—just a quick dinner after a long day. Both had just returned home.

“I think the difference is that the original actually has sugar, and the new edition uses artificial sweeteners instead." she mumbled, trying to peer over his shoulder to see the labels herself. "Neither is good, but I guess the new one could be labeled as 'better.'"

Charles noticed her curiosity and chuckled, lifting the bottle higher for her to see. "You didn’t tell me how work was.” he added, leaning back and meeting her gaze.

“I made a new friend a while ago.” Mariya replied, her voice casual. “Her name is Cordelia.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on his lips. “Oh? And how’s she doing?”

Mariya smiled faintly, turning her attention back to the stove. "Well," she said, her tone light, almost playful. "Let’s just say… she's a little hard to reach these days."

The quiet hum of the kitchen filled the air as Mariya stood by the stove, watching the leftovers warm up. The soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting long, golden shadows across the room. The day had been long, draining in ways she couldn’t put into words, but standing here, she felt a stillness she rarely allowed herself. The soft clink of Charles’ glass on the table broke the silence, but it was gentle, like everything else he did.

Without a word, Charles walked over to her, his presence a comforting warmth at her back. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. Instead, he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him. The solid weight of his body was grounding, and for a moment, Mariya closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the moment. She felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against her back.

His hand found hers near the stove, his fingers intertwining with hers in a familiar, wordless gesture. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder. The quiet stretched on, not awkward but full—full of the things neither of them had to say.

Charles’ fingers traced slow, absent patterns across the back of her hand, his touch feather-light, as if he were reminding her of something she hadn’t forgotten but needed to feel again. A gentle reminder that in this space, in this moment, she was allowed to just *be*.

Mariya exhaled softly, the weight of the day beginning to lift. He didn’t know everything—didn’t know about the shadows she walked through at work, the things that sat heavy on her chest when the nights stretched long. But here, in their small kitchen, with his arms around her, none of that mattered. His love wasn’t about understanding every corner of her life; it was about being there in the spaces where words fell short.

The soft click of the stove turning off broke the stillness, and Mariya moved slowly, turning around in his arms, her eyes meeting his. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The way he looked at her—gentle, patient, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for whatever she wasn’t ready to say—was enough. His hand came up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering at her temple for just a second longer than necessary, as if tracing the path of an unspoken thought.

She reached up, her fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw, her thumb brushing across his skin in a slow, deliberate motion. His eyes softened, and in that silence, they understood each other. Not the details, not the complexities of their separate worlds, but the depth of what it meant to be together.

Charles leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to hers, his breath warm against her skin. His hand found its way to the small of her back, pulling her closer in a quiet, unspoken reassurance. They stood like that for a while, the sound of their breathing the only thing that filled the room.

Eventually, Mariya tilted her head just enough to press her lips softly to his. It wasn’t hurried or intense—just a slow, deliberate kiss that held the weight of everything she couldn’t say. He kissed her back, just as slowly, his hand gently cradling the back of her neck as if he were holding something fragile and precious.

When they pulled apart, Charles’ eyes held hers for a moment longer, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. Then, without a word, he turned toward the stove, plating the food. The mundane act of preparing dinner felt almost sacred in the quiet, as if the space they shared in that moment had stripped away the noise of the world outside.

Mariya sat at the table, watching him move with the ease of someone who had been a part of her life for so long, his every movement familiar, but never taken for granted. He placed the plate in front of her and sat down across from her, their knees brushing under the table.

In the silence that followed, Mariya reached across the table, her fingers finding his once more. Charles squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

Time had slipped by, a whole week vanishing into routine, like sand slipping through fingers. Miss Lazarski glanced at the screen in front of her, her eyes briefly lingering on the grainy image of Cordelia. The woman who had once sat across from her, bruised and fragile, was now nothing more than a lump of flesh in a cage, reduced to an experiment among so many others. Humanity twisted by human hands. She should’ve felt something—satisfaction, maybe. But all she felt was the pull of the clock.

It was almost lunchtime.

With a sharp exhale, she turned away from the monitor and began typing hurried notes into the system, her fingers moving with a precision that didn’t reflect the impatience simmering beneath her calm exterior. There was still work to be done, data to gather, but that could wait. Lunch time wasn’t just about food; it was the promise of seeing Charles again. In a world where everything felt measured, controlled, and manipulated, those stolen moments were the closest thing to freedom. It was about the moments they carved out for themselves in a world that was always demanding more.

They both worked at Urbanshade, passing each other like shadows in a world that seldom allowed them the luxury of crossing paths. The cafeteria, though—no matter how sterile, no matter how full of faceless colleagues—it was their sanctuary, the one place where their lives intersected, even if just for a short while.

Miss Lazarski pushed her chair back, the scrape of the legs against the floor a jarring sound in the otherwise quiet lab. She glanced once more at the monitor, at the lifeless scene that had become Cordelia's reality, and then turned away, heading for the door. The hallway outside felt cold and impersonal, the fluorescent lights casting sharp angles on the tiled floor. But as she walked, the thought of seeing Charles, of feeling his quiet warmth in a world that otherwise felt hollow, kept her moving forward.

"Ah, Miss Lazarski, or should I say, soon-to-be wife of mine." Charles greeted her with that familiar, warm smile, his tray already filled with the typical mass-produced cafeteria food—a sad reward for the hours they poured into their work. Mariya's eyes flicked to his tray, catching sight of the small cup of pudding nestled among the bland offerings. A smile crept onto her lips as she stared at it, and for a brief moment, Cordelia’s face flashed in her mind. Something about that pudding, that mundane detail, sparked an unexpected connection—an idea, a new line of research that could push her further.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

"Let me grab some food too. You can save us a seat." The woman beamed at her fiancé, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping past him. The kiss was light, like a breeze, but enough to feel the warmth between them—a touch that grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

As she moved through the line, grabbing the same mass-produced lunch everyone else had, her mind was already racing, the gears turning. Her fingers tapped idly against the cold metal tray as she thought about Cordelia—her flesh, her transformation, the possibilities. Cordelia was about to reach the next step of evolution, thanks to Miss Lazarskis skilled fingers. Research was always evolving, and so was she. But even in the midst of those cold, clinical thoughts, there was an odd comfort in knowing Charles was there, just a few steps away, waiting with his warm smile and cheap cafeteria pudding.

She reached for a tray of her own, the process automatic, mechanical. But her mind, even with its hunger for answers and new discoveries, found a brief pause—a small, fleeting sense of normalcy in the idea that she’d be sitting across from him soon. It was enough to keep her tethered, just for a moment.

[stealingyourspins]

So if the first Spinjitzu master was the child of a dragon and oni, would it be so far-fetched for the other masters to be dragon children too? Especially with how wonky they are with the timeline.. Like the parents that fought with Wu are probably at least in their 30’s-50’s when the ninjas are born?? Idk I just like to think they’re long lived too.

Or, in which Kai’s self esteem/abandonment issues act up, leaving him feeling unneeded. So dragon puberty combined with getting sick with some fire elemental specific flu decides to throw him into a loop and force himself to be the one cared for, for once in his life. 

-

Kai hasn’t been in a good mindset lately. His siblings don’t seem to need him anymore. Lloyd is (mostly) all grown up and Nya is now a warrior in her own right. He doesn’t have to work in the forge or scrape for odd jobs just to put food on the table. They have a better home than he ever could have dreamed of. They have an allowance. They have a parent guardian that does all the things he shouldn’t have had to do in the first place.

It’s just, the others all have such useful talents. Zane can cook, strategize, and do incredible robot things. Cole had super strength, climbed cliffs like a spider, and was a natural with animals. Jay and Nya could build just about anything they can think of, and Nya always said that his own smith work was shoddy at best. Lloyd was the actual chosen one.

What was he good at other than burning things down?

Kai thought he was past this, past the need to snap out at others and do things alone. He was the last to join the original team. The other three were probably training together for years before he was brought in just because Nya was kidnapped. His entire induction was a trial by fire. It’s just far too easy to fall back into old habits sometimes…

His village was rustic and poor, so far in the outskirts that they didn’t have electric power or indoor plumbing. Nya learned to read before he did,(he still had trouble with it) insisting on her staying in school while he spent all day scrounging up any money he could. Whether from quick jobs or quick fingers. Food was hard to get as a six year old, let alone learning to use the forge with what little he could remember dad teaching him. He had street smarts and improvisation ingrained into him. Thinking on his feet and jumping into action so they could survive another day.

His mood was making him slip, he knew it was but he couldn’t stop it. Sparring against Jay always got him riled up, with all the verbal jabs at his sore spots that normally he could brush off and banter right back. Today he was just angry. Not just his temper but his body feels weird too. Restless, frustrated, sluggish, sore. His skin felt too tight and his muscles ached. His gut and lungs were clogged with soot. His head swims in fog.

Another miss had him slamming into a pillar. Everyone on the side chuckled and it made his chest burn hotter. Kai’s throat rumbled with a growl, a breath of flames licked over his teeth as he abandoned his weapons, loped forward on all fours and pounced, knocking the stunned blue ninja to the ground where they grappled and flipped and rolled through the dust.

Kai’s head lunges forward, teeth snapping together just a second too late to catch an arm. An electric kick to his stomach sends him flying back. Rolling tail over head once, then digging fingers and toes into the dirt till he slides to a stop. Crouched low to the ground, hissing and tensed to pounce again before something black and heavy jumped on his back, wrenching his arms behind him and pinning him in an unbreakable grip.

Kai kicked and screamed and flared his flames against stone skin until falling limp under Cole, exhausted and out of breath. A tickle in his throat turns into a cough, a wad of ash and spit splat on the tiles. 

Cole sighs in relief slowly easing off the other in case he starts up again. Instead Kai keens, tiredly chasing the lost touch. Cole smirks, his fingers petting through the wild hair until the hot head drifts to sleep.

–

“Somebody please tell me WHAT THE HELL THAT WAS ABOUT?!!!” Jay shrieks after watching Kai throw a hissy fit underneath Cole, who was already taking the fire ninja to his room.

“Kai has seemed unusually stressed as of late. Perhaps he is feeling unwell?” Zane says

“Stressed? STRESSED? He tried to BITE me! He went full primal and chased me around like an animal! He grew a tail for Wu’s sake!!”

-

(later after someone goes to check on him, finds his bed buried under a mountain of blankets and clothes stolen from everyone, and runs to Wu)

Wu- “It appears young Kai is experiencing a nesting phase.”

“Nesting?”

Zane- “Nesting. The act of birds or dragons preparing to lay eggs and raise young.”

“He’s pregnant?!”

Wu  “Not necessarily. It is more likely that Kai feels like making one to make himself feel better during his illness.” Wu strokes his beard. “However, if he, or even any of you, decides on a partner in the future it might be possible.”

“He can GET pregnant?? But he’s a guy!”

Wu “Dragons are the very source of creation. Something as small as gender wouldn’t stop a determined dragon.”

“HOW does that work?! Why would he WANT to get pregnant?!!”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older. Maybe a few decades from now.”

-

Is Wu kidding? who knows~ :3 Also would a fever for a fire elemental rise enough to bake the air, and ignite the nest? or douse them into dangerous cold? Having trouble deciding.

[doctorstrangereview]

0127: Marvel Two-In-One #6

Cover Date: November 1974 On-Sale Date: August 13, 1974

With so many heroes living in New York City they are bound to run into each other every so often. Even one like Doc who's adventures are more esoteric than the average super-being. Doc hasn't bumped into the Fantastic Four for years, outside of the occasional wedding and this is his first outing with Benjy Grimm solo. With Doc involved, the story won't fit into a single issue. This is part one.

While waiting for their train, Doc, Clea and some others are enjoying the harmonica music of a strange (no pun intended) girl on the platform. Mr. Gerber gives us a collection of short biographies and reactions of the immediate members of the audience.

The strange woman finishes her performance. One member of the audience, who looks like a shirtless vampire, isn't happy and tries to "convince" her to play some more. Some fashion choices of the 70s were really questionable! Vampy snatches the harmonica and pushes the woman onto the tracks. The woman pleads to save the harmonica. Doc hesitates a moment and fulfils this request. Before he can attempt to save the woman, she is struck by an oncoming train. Instead of a splat, she bursts into lots of multicolored sparks. Well, Doc is involved. Things can't go the ordinary way.

The sparks cover the passengers on the platform, seeping into them and calming them. Once they recover their wits, everyone flees. Doc and Clea leave the platform and return to the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Meanwhile, back at the Baxter Building, the blue-eyed Benjamin J. Grimm, aka The Thing, receives an early morning telephone call. It's from Mrs. Coogan on Yancy Street and it turns out she's Vampy's grandmother. Vampy looks like he's going through some serious heroin withdrawal.

The Thing flies to Yancy Street in one of the FF's fancy vehicles and has a long awaited reunion with Mrs. Coogan. Benjy asks Vampy to spill his guts. While they get all tender, we change our view back to Doc's Sanctum. Doc is trying to discern where the sparkle woman and her harmonica originate from. Clea and Wong watch. Clea must have been watching Doctor Who because she tell's Wong she'll explain later.

Doc manages to contact the woman. It turns out she's not really an entity but a manifestation of the force called destiny. Everyone who interacted with her have, through some kind of gobbledygook, managed to change the course of their destiny. Doc asks about the harmonica but it seems she's not allowed to talk about that and bolts. Doc needs to find everyone on the platform and... do something. He flies off with instructions not to touch the harmonica. We know how well telling people not to do something goes.

Doc finds the young couple and as he arrives strange things happen. First, Sheldon, the husband of the couple has lost his face and second, Doc's ghost is coming the the wall of their bedroom. Doc isn't usually the peeping tom sort so we'll assume he's there to fix the dude's face.

The condition seems to be related to Sheldon's loss of individuality. Doc beams some sort of suggestion into Sheldon's head and he gets his face back. Doc's ghost returns to his body and Sheldon tells his wife that he want's to quit his job and write a book. Yeah, that should go well.

Back on Yancy Street, Benjy has heard Vampy's story and doesn't believe it. The man who grew rocky skin, visited other planets and dimensions, traveled through time and fought Galactus and other extremely powerful entities doesn't believe that a woman exploded into colorful sparkles. While digesting the story and thinking not-nice thoughts about Vampy, Benjy goes outside only to discover the Yancy Street Gang has vandalized his transport.

Doc arrives on the scene as the Thing is losing his ability to control his anger. Benjy asks what he's doing there and Doc says if he tells him, Benjy may think Doc is ready for a rubber room. As the two heroes walk off to discuss, a nearby rat grows to giant size, crawls the wall of the nearby brownstone and attacks Vampy who happens to be looking out the window. The event is significant enough for Mr. Tuska to give us a full page panel!

The Thing grabs the rat's tail and the rat grabs Vampy. Doc suspects there may be magic involved (duh!) and joins the fray. The rat releases Vampy. Benjy continues to pummel the giant rodent. The rodent fights back and Benjy isn't having a great time.

Realizing Vampy is at the center of this, he starts working on him and he isn't very kind.

Doc eventually convinces Vampy that life is worth living and he has some degree of control over things. Vampy's renewed confidence allows Benjy to dispatch his red-eyed foe.

The Thing is ready to go back to bed. Who can blame him. Doc explains there's one more dude we need to ferret out and then there's that darn Harmonica I haven't figured out yet. Benjy is like "Oh well, the night's ruined anyway. Let's go."

The pair return to the Sanctum and Doc asks Clea to get the harmonica. Clea tells him that Valkyrie showed up and said she would bring it to Doc. Looks like they all have another mystery to solve.

On the surface, the story is a bit bland, but looking at all the elements, this is a prototype of Defenders stories to be. It's got that touch of weirdness that will become a trademark of the series. The style Mr. Tuska uses appears to influence Don Perlin who will illustrate many of those weird tales.

Steve Gerber handles Doc quite well. He's more than a spell throwing, exposition machine here. A story like this doesn't allow for occasional intimate moments that provide character growth, but the interaction between Doc and Vampy is telling. Doc tends to be a nice guy, but here he shows he can see the bigger picture. He takes the necessary road to get the job done and save those who need saving.

It's a story without a true villain. Rather, the cast deals with the unintended consequences of an impulsive action. I haven't read the follow-up yet and don't know if Doc and Clea are similarly affected by the sparkle woman. After all, they were present when this all happened.

It's not an overwhelmingly great story, but it entertained and didn't drag so I liked it.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Oh my god I was thinking of potential crossovers with Dune and just remembered Aro exists. Like if you drop any other character in Arrakis you would have a very hard time to get them understand the setting but Aro can read minds with a touch. By the way what do you think happens when a vampire eats a Sandworm, which venom is stronger? Or can a Bene Gesserit or Paul survive vampire venom with their witchy powers? I am thinking a starving Carlisle tries to eat one because there is no goddamn animals in that planet and immediately regrets everything.

Aro would have a leg up in that sense and the "he is virtually indestructible sense". Though I imagine he'd be very sad on Arrakis where everyone's blood tastes like this weird blue shit (canonically, in Twilight, humans with substances in their bloodstream/medical issues are notably less appealing than others).

But onto your questions

What Happens When a Vampire Eats a Sandworm

The thing about vampires is they seem to be extremely adapted to Earth. Their main food source is human (hooray, it's plentiful) and in a pinch they can subsist off animal blood, namely the Cullens seem big on mammals so we don't know if things like fish or lizards work out for them.

An alien sandworm with completely different blood that also produces a highly toxic hallucinogenic wunder venom that lets people see the past and the future and develop psychic powers? I don't think that's even going to smell remotely edible. We're not even talking animal edible, we're talking Carlisle would try and would vomit.

So, it's not so much that the worm's venom is more powerful it's just that... whatever vampires use to process the blood they ingest (do they still have livers? the world will never know) it's probably not going to like what that is and the vampire in question is going to vomit. The same way they do when they eat other materials they're not supposed to eat.

As to whether they'd trip balls or not... Well, probably not, but we don't know. Again, vampires vomit up other substances they can't consume, and we have no mention of any ability to get drunk or in any way poison themselves. Probably because they don't have livers the way we do and use something else to process/purify their blood intake. So, my guess would be no.

Can a Bene Gesserit/Paul Survive a Vampire?

No.

The thing about vampires is they move so fast that they could kill them long before they do anything. Their shot would be in that Paul specifically could foresee it happening extremely clearly, and simply choose the actions such that it doesn't happen, and the Bene Gesserit might maybe sort of kind of be able to guess it will happen and try their best to avoid it.

If the vampire's sitting around they can try to use the voice, but this may not work on vampires, as there's a very physical aspect to it that might not sound right to a vampire's ears.

So if a vampire makes them go splat, they're going splat.

But What About Venom?

Venom's a different story and the answer is probably yes. The Bene Gesserit, and Paul as well, are highly trained to be able to psychicly purge poisons from their bodies. This is how/why Jessica survives becoming a Reverand Mother and why only Bene Gesserit survive this process. Paul is notably trained in this as well.

Given we see that the venom can be sucked out in canon by Edward, I imagine a trained Bene Gesserit would have more than enough time to be able to purge it from their bodies with minimal/no side effects.

[multi-fandomocs]

My 2nd OC for Splatoon Mary Ida the human raised in the world of Splatoon.

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 20-21

Wives: Marie and Shiver

Family: Marina and pearl(Adoptive moms), Agent 8(older sister), Order(little brother).

Friends: Agent 4, Sheldon, Callie, Craig Cuttlefish, Agent/Cap'n 3, Neo Agent 3, Frye, and Big man.

Enemies: Dj Octavio, Octarians, Tartar(Dead), Mr Grizz, Order(formally).

Weapons: Splatter shot, Charger, Splat bombs, Range blaster, and a Rollar.

Special weapons: Splashdown, Tenta missiles, Killer Wail 5.1, Crab tank

Powers of the Octo-Splat Suit(made by Marina.): Enhanced Strength(1.6 million tons), Enhanced Speed(10-20 times the speed of sound), Can control her own personal gravity, has an invulnerable gravitational force field that can absorb kinetic energy, can replicate the power of the Rainmaker.

Description: 5'9 hispanic female, brown eyes, dark brown hair, black frame prescription glasses, green shirt(probably Marie's), blue leggings(probably Shivers), black slip on shoes(hand me down from marina).

Mary's Splatoon Time-line: 5yrs 6/3/14042- Marina finds Mary's cryo pod. 14049 12yrs- Marina leaves Octo-canyon, meets pearl at Mt nantai. 14051 14yrs(Splatoon 2)- meets Marie and Agent 4 and becomes a member of the squidbeak splatoon as Agent 6. Late 14051 15yrs(Octo expansion)- meets Agent 8 and Cuttlefish. 14052- pearl and marina get married. 14053 17yrs- Mary starts dating Marie. 14054 18yrs- Craig retires and Agent 3 becomes Cap'n 3. 14055- Becomes one of the Squidbeak splatoon's top Agents, meets Shiver. Early 14056- Mary and Marie start dating Shiver. Mid(late June) 14056 20yrs(Splatoon 3)- meets Neo Agent 3, Frye, and Big man. Late 14056(Side Order)- joins her family on a new mission. Early 14057- Mary, Marie, and Shiver get married. Mid 14057- Pearl and Marina marry Acht.