#The money I would pay to have been in that garage sitting next to his mother

[britney-rosberg06]

has anyone lamb to the slaughter-ed harder than Kimi Antonelli getting into a f1 car for the first time???

the pathos. The drama. It’s like a renaissance painting. The way the mechanics are all standing by ready to lead him to death the track. They have their eyes on him watching history happen. Knowing they can’t stop him even if they wanted to. It is one of the first F1 photos that have truly made me Feel Something

Merc needs his Italian doomed by the narrative catholic guilt child prodigy ass for the brand I must admit

[specialagentlokitty]

Walter x reader - a little unsure

Walter O'brian x reader. Either reader is a vigilante (yes. I have a problem. an obsession with vigilante reader. shh.) or is one of his co-workers. Maybe a Tony Starkisc reader? Smart with mechanics and VERY VERY advanced things but not the best with emotions. (like the rest of the team.) their feelings for each other got so bad, even the team had to yell at them their feelings are shared. - @nyxiethesimp 💜

A/N: it’s been a while since I watched the show so sorry if it’s bad 😅

Sitting in front of your desk, you grabbed the wrench next to you and carried on working in the part of the car engine in front of you.

You heard the door to your garage open then it closed.

“You haven’t been in for the past two days.”

You glanced up at the man who walked in then back down to what you were working on and he walked over, sitting in front of you.

“Your case isn’t all that interesting to me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a plain and simple car jacking, that is boring Walter, you know it’s boring too, I don’t see why you took it.”

“There’s more too it, I was actually hoping I would be able to convince you to help. I was going to send Paige since she’s more of communication person, but they told me to come.”

You set the wrench down, then you picked up something else to take apart the engine so you could get at what you needed.

While you were doing that Walter set a few papers on the table.

“There were some microchips in the car, they contain codes for missiles all over the country, they were going to be sold, we need to find them.”

“So, check all the sites, they’ll be up there somewhere.”

“Done that, nothing. Cabe was hoping you could check with some of your informants.”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at Walter, leaning back in your chair.

You held out your hand and he got up, walking around the table to sit on it in front of you, handing them over.

You flicked through them, taking one of them before handing him back the rest.

“Yeah, okay. But he owes me money.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t just work with us, you do the same thing, and you’ll get a regular pay as well.”

Folding up the paper, you set it inside your jacket pocket.

“I don’t like other people Walter, people get in the way, working as a team makes things go slowly and I have no patience for that.”

“But you like the team. Right?”

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t let them come here.”

Walter followed you across the room.

“You don’t let Cabe in.”

“He’s a federal agent, for both our sakes it better he doesn’t know what I do properly, what he doesn’t know can’t get him trouble, and it means I also don’t get arrested.”

“So, will you help?”

You nodded, grabbing the keys to your bike as well your helmet.

“I’ll meet you at yours.”

“Thank you.”

He left and you left a few minutes later, heading to one of the well known underground bars and you walked to the bartender.

You leant over the counter.

“Stolen microchips, what do you know?”

He looked at you.

“Nothing you need to know.”

Humming a little, you grabbed him by the collar, slammed your helmet against his forehead and you shoved him back.

The whole place fell silent.

“Look I’m in a hurry, I have a car I need to fix, a friend who’s waiting for answers, so, let’s try this again. What do you know.”

He gave you some papers and you began following the trail.

You worked fast and brutal, you did what you had to in order to get the job done, and by the end of the day you made your way back to Walter.

Walking through the doors, you made your way to Cabe.

“You owe me.”

“How much do you want?”

Pulling off your helmet you thought for a moment, making your way to Walter’s desk, sitting next to him.

“I’ve changed my mind, no money. I’ll save this for a rainy day.”

“You know there’s some things I can’t bail you out off.”

“I know.”

“So, what did you do to get this, because we couldn’t find it.” Toby said.

You waved your hand dismissively at him, leaning your head on Walter’s shoulder and he looked at you before going back to his work.

You stared at his screen in boredom.

Computers weren’t your thing, but when it came to anything else, that’s where you came in handy.

Yawning slightly, you kicked your feet up on his desk.

“(Y/N) please, that’s unsanitary, put your feet down.”

You grumbled a little but complied, putting your feet back on the floor.

Everybody shared a look at the pair of you, but neither of you noticed it, or the way that the pair of you would occasionally sneak a glance at the other.

“How long until they finally come out with it?” Toby asked.

“At this rate never. Honestly how two people so smart can be so oblivious is beyond me.” Happy said.

“Well, maybe somebody should tell them.” Sylvester suggest.

“That’s not a bad idea, but maybe we should try setting them up first.” Paige suggested.

Everybody immediately agreed with her, since she was the more compassionate of the group.

And that’s what they did, they tried to set you both up on dinners to drinks and nobody else turning up.

They tried everything and neither of you could see how the other felt.

Finally they had enough.

Walter was sat with your in your garage and they walk came bursting through the doors.

“We’ve had enough!” Happy yelled.

You looked up from where you were laid with your head in Walter’s lap.

“Of what?” You asked confused.

“You two are in love with each other! Discuss!”

They all stood there and you turned to Walter confused, and he looked just as confused.

Taking his hand, you led him to your office and closed the door and blinds for privacy.

“I.. I don’t know what they’re talking about..”

You studied him for a moment.

“Is it true?” You asked.

“I.. I don’t.. they’re not..”

He fumbled for his words, not able to get them out.

“Walter.”

He stopped, looking at you.

“Look, we both suck at the whole emotion thing, but Paige doesn’t, neither does Toby, or Cabe, and Happy and Sylverster know more than both of us combined about it.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

You pointed to you, then you pointed at him.

“So, me and you. They’ve seen something, we need to figure it out.”

“Well… I.. I don’t.. you go first.”

“I like you, I get along with you and I don’t want to hit you if that counts for something.”

“You don’t want to hit me?”

“I want to hit a lot of people.”

He nodded his head.

“Well, I.. I suppose that I do enjoy your company…”

You both went quiet.

“So… would you maybe consider dinner..?” He mumbled.

You smiled a little.

“Absolutely, how about now?”

He nodded and you held out your hand, letting him unsurely take it.

Neither of you knew what you were doing, or if you were doing this right, but you decided to just roll with it and see where it went

[enby-jellyfish]

The Worst Day of Your Lives

Chapter 1 of The Wolves and Their Raven

(PLATONIC) GN!Babysitter!Reader & Daniel Diaz & Sean Diaz (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: From debating over Chock-O-Crisps to the worst day of your lives.

Warnings: Nothing (I think) that isn't in the game...

Word Count: 1445

A/N: Got inspired by replaying the game with my sister :)

It is Friday afternoon, and you are making your way through the chilly streets of late-October Seattle, orange leaves making a satisfying crunching sound when crushed beneath your foot.

You are on your way to the Diaz household; you’ve been the younger brother’s babysitter for a little over a year now. The boys’ father had fixed up your old car when you broke down near their house. Unable to pay him in full with your meagre college budget, he made you a deal; you babysit his youngest on weekdays and he takes the money you owe him out of your monthly pay.

A fair deal in your opinion, as you thoroughly enjoy the job. Though you don’t make much from it, it’s a fun way to make money next to your college work.

After ringing the doorbell you are greeted by Sean, the older brother, who is smugly chewing on something. As you step through the threshold of the Diaz’ home you are immediately bombarded by the younger brother, Daniel. “You’re here! Tell Sean, it’s not fair!” God, if only you had the energy of a nine-year-old. “What’s not fair bud?” you ask, putting your bag on the living room chair.

Daniel points an accusing finger at his smug brother. “He took the last Chock-O-Crisp!” Sean puts his hands up defensively. “Hey, I was appointed judge and made an executive decision.”

“Mhm, it seems the judge has spoken. Sorry bud.” You put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder as he crosses his arms, scowling at his brother, who sticks his tongue out and starts rummaging through the kitchen.

You bend down to Daniel’s level. “Hey, you wanted to finish up your Halloween costume today, right? Why don’t you get everything ready, and I go let your dad know I’m here?” The young boy immediately brightens up and runs for his room, yelling a quick ‘Okay!’ while he does.

You smile at his enthusiasm and head for the garage. “Hey, Mr. Diaz, how are you?” The man in question calls your name from underneath a disassembled car. “I thought I heard you come in! How are you?” You lean against a workbench as you make conversation. “I’m fine, I just came down to let you know I’m here and to ask if you need me to do anything in particular today, aside from helping Daniel finish up his costume.”

Mr. Diaz sighs thoughtfully. “I mean, if you could get started on dinner around 6, you would be my favorite.” You laugh at his teasing tone. “Don’t let Sean or Daniel hear you say that.” You move back into the storage room to find Sean rummaging around the shelves.

“Looking for something?” Sean startles slightly, not having noticed you. “Don’t- scare me like that.” He stuffs a blanket in his bag. “What’s that for?” You ask. “The Halloween party tonight, I was just gonna ask dad for some money but other than that I’m all set. Do you have any Halloween plans?” You make an indecisive noise. “Eh, if you count sitting on the couch and watching some horror movies with candy I bought on sale, then yes.” Sean laughs. “I’ve heard worse plans. You should check on Daniel, last I saw he was playing with scissors.” You agree and leave the teen to talk to his dad as you head for Daniel’s room.

You help Daniel with the finishing touches on his costume, cutting some holes in an old flannel and, of course, the showstopper: fake blood.

“Can I show Sean our blood?” You twist the cap on the water bottle containing the fake blood with red-stained fingers. “Sure, but I think he’s on a skype call.” You hand him the bottle. “With Lyla?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer before he rushes off. You chuckle to yourself and get to cleaning up, hoping the dye hasn’t stained anything.

Daniel comes back a few minutes after he left. “Sean kicked me out. Are you almost done yet?” You keep scrubbing a particularly tough stain. “Almost. Why don’t you go outside, I’ll be there soon.” The young boy agrees with a ‘Kay.’ and heads outside.

As you’re drying your hands you suddenly hear Daniel’s distressed voice outside. You rush outside, noticing Sean is close behind you, and find Daniel, with a scared look on his face, and their neighbor, Brett, with red stains from the fake blood on his shirt. He’s a bigot with a big mouth and has gotten into altercations with the Diaz family before.

“Look at my shirt, asshole!” Brett has a tight grip on Daniel’s arm. “What's the big deal? It's Halloween!” Sean runs past you and shoves Brett away from his brother. “Hey! Don't ever touch my brother!” You motion for Daniel to come to you and he does, clinging to your arm. The two boys continue fighting. You try and de-escalate the situation to the best of your abilities but Brett keeps hurling insults and even slurs at the two boys.

Then it starts getting physical. Brett shoves Sean. Sean shoves back. You yell at them both to stop. Brett tells Sean to go back to his own country. Sean punshes him, getting a worried reaction from Daniel. Sean yells for you to get inside before getting tackled.

The fight escalates further until Sean shoves Brett back, causing him to hit his head on a rock in the ground in the process.

The deafening silence that follows is interrupted by a short siren.

“What... What's going on?” Daniel’s small voice asks. “Oh fuck me... Daniel, get over here!” You make sure to stay close as he does. “Sean... is he hurt?” Daniel’s trembling voice asks as a police officer arrives.

“Okay... Okay, step away! Now!” His panicked voice gives you an eery feeling. Pushing Daniel behind you, his hands squeezing your arm, you take a step forward and try and keep your voice clear and steady as you try to explain the situation. You can hear Brett’s laboured breathing in the background. “Officer. Sir. It was an accident- a petty fight that got out of hand. Please just-”

“Shut up! And step back!” The officer interrupts you. You do as he says, the boys behind you, as the officer draws his gun. “On the ground, NOW!” You and the boys try to further explain the situation but this just seems to make the officer more anxious, yelling for you to get on the ground again with hands behind your head. You comply, your hands shaking as you listen to the boys panicing and watch the officer take Brett’s pulse.

Then Mr. Diaz enters the scene. He tries to run toward his sons and you but the officer points his gun at him. “What's happening here?” You can feel his worry through his tone. “Get on the ground, sir!” You watch as the Sean tries to defend himself to his father, who tells him to be quiet before directing his attention back to the officer. The officer yells at Sean to be quiet, hands holding his gun are shaking. Sean and Daniel are crying now, saying how they are sorry and want to go home. You try and comfort them as best as you can without drawing the attention of the clearly unstable officer as Mr. Diaz pleads with him.

With one last yell to get on the ground the officer’s gun fires, the bullet hitting Mr. Diaz in the chest as he falls back.

You can’t breathe.

Daniel lets out a scream that shatters your heart and a shockwave sends you flying.

You hit the ground and everything fades to black.

You regain consciousness to the destroyed neighborhood, wood from the fence strewn across the sidewalk along with other sorts of debris and litter, the utility pole is broken, you can spot a leaking fire hydrant, and the police officer’s car is on fire.

You look around in shock and see Sean kneeling beside his father.

Dead.

Mr. Diaz is Dead.

You have to go.

You rush your aching body to Sean as sirens sound in the background. “Sean, hey, listen to me. I am so so sorry, but we have to go.” The teen shakily nods and wipes his tears. “Daniel! Hey! Come on!” The boy groans but doesn’t open his eyes when his brother turns him over and slaps his cheeks. “Okay, Sean, I’ll take him. Get our bags, let’s go.” Thank fuck for that party. “Yeah, yeah.” Sean breathes and rushes inside as you lift Daniel, careful of any potential injuries.

The three of you manage to get away from the scene right before two police cars arrive.

Next part

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[starysky1289]

Rookie!Vanessa X Guitarist!Reader. Steady

“ where’s our next gig at Mathew? “

“ why, so you can tell your new cop girlfriend to come watch? “

You groaned, ever sense the previous concert, Mathew and your fellow band mates may as well off been living in your business about you and Vanessa. You two didn’t really talk after the concert, besides the texting and the…lovely photos she sent you. You’d still find yourself going back and looking at them every now and then.

You all were setting up to start practice, when the patrol car rolled up to your garage. Everyone Audibly groaned, as Mathew walked down to the car, Derek got out, Vanessa at his side.

“ we haven’t even played, and fucking karen already called you? What’s wrong now?? “

“ I’m sorry matt, but yall can’t practice here anymore. The only person who has any right to practice in the house is Y/N. I’m sorry guys, to many reports “

“ this is bullshit! “

Mathew stormed back into your garage, angrily packing his stuff. You sighed, putting your bass down as you walked down to the officers.

“ officers, are you sure we can’t like, appeal this? We don’t have anywhere else to practice, we don’t get paid enough to rent out a space. “

“ I’m sorry y/n. You can try and appeal, but that’d cost more than a practice space. I’d suggest looking around for people who’d let you practice in open apartments or something, not much else I can- “

“ Fuck you Derek! And fuck you ‘ Officer Vanessa ‘, fucking rookie Bitch. “

Mathew shouted at the officers as he stormed into his car, immediately driving off. You stood alone, your other bandmates packing up, talking amongst themselves, glaring at you. Like it was your fault just because you had conversations with Vanessa.

“ I’m..I’m so sorry y/n…I can help you look if you want- “

“ save it. I don’t need your excuses…”

You groaned, turning back and heading into your garage, packing up the bass and heading inside. You threw the case on your couch, making sure it didn’t fall off, before laying on your bed, screaming into your pillow. Stupid neighbor, stupid cops. You couldn’t stand them anymore.

*~*

It was late, you were still up, starring at the ceiling. You had to eat something, you hadn’t eaten all day. You got up, heading to the kitchen, as your phone buzzed. You picked it up, looking down at the text message.

Vanessa.

“ Hey, can we talk? Maybe I can come over or we can call? “

You sighed, you weren’t mad at her. You’re here just upset at everything else. You shot her back a quick text before going to make something to eat.

“ You can come over. I suppose we should talk. “

*~*

Vanessa had came, like she said she would. She wore a simply beige sweater and some black pants, her blonde hair still in its ponytail. You let her in, leading her to the living room, letting her sit on the open spot on the couch. Your guitar case was still on it, so you pulled it off and laid it on your lap, opening it and singing. Its yellow metal was cold on your fingers, as you ran your hand over the black stripes on its edge.

“ Mathew didn’t mean what he said to you. You can understand why we’re upset. We don’t have anywhere else to practice, and our next few shows won’t get us enough money to pay for a studio to practice in. “

“ I know he’s upset, and you are too. What about a family member..? Maybe they could- “

“ I have no more family. None that’ll support me. My parents are mad I dropped out of college and joined this band cause I didn’t wanna be a lawyer. I guess it’s kinda stupid on my end, but I, I couldn’t do it. “

Vanessa was gentle with you, hiding your hand on the bass, studying it with you. She didn’t want to be the first to speak, she knew you had a lot on your mind.

“ in all honesty, Mathew is a douchebag. I originally wanted to be a singer, I could be double trouble, bass and vocals? I’d sell out clubs, but he was persistent about him singing cause he was the ‘ leader ‘. So we all just keep quiet, even if he didn’t sing to well “

“ oh, thank god I’m not the only one who thought he sucked the other day. You thought, you played wonderfully, the solo you had was amazing. I bet your voice is just as good as your bass skills too. “

You chuckled, closing the case and putting it to the side. You looked around the room, before back at Vanessa, sighing.

“ about the other night. I’m sorry I’ve ghosted you…I-i never ment too. I was so flustered from your photos, and then my mate’s have found out I talked to you and are all up my ass about it….i just..I’m not good at being a communicator…”

“ y/n…im not mad at you. I knew you practiced today, I figured what’s her name Karen would call and file a complaint, and we’d come up. I didn’t know about the situation until Derek said it to Mathew. I was gonna talk to you then, if things didn’t get out of hand. Did I, go to far with the nudes-? “

You quickly shook your head, slightly squeezing her hand before smiling softly.

“ n-no you didn’t! I..I enjoyed them..quite a w-welcome surprise. “

She scooted closer to you, holding both your hands now, blushing as she struggled to get her words out.

“ do you wanna…see it in person~? “

Your heart skipped a beat, as quickly burried your face in your hands, akwardly chuckling. The last thing you expected was her offering something like that.

“ think of it as a apology…we could…if you want, do more- “

“ n-no! No I’m just..I-I’m not ready for that..I should take you out a few t-times before I deserve that..”

“ alright then. Do you..wanna see them then..? “

You poked your head out from your hands, and nodded silently. Vanessa chuckled, taking your hands and putting them on her lap. She slowly lifted her sweater and bra, almost teasingly pulling it up enough for her tits to pop out. You blushed again, but stayed frozen. She looked just as gorgeous as she did in the pictures, her skin practically glowing in the dimly lit house.

“ you wanna touch me y/n..?. “

“ y-yes…yes please…”

Vanessa took your hands and placed them on her chest, letting you gently squeeze them. Her skin was just as soft as you imagined, as you gently massaged them she’d let out little moans, that’d only make you blush darker.

“ y-your so..pretty…I-i…I’m s-sorry I-I was mean to y-you earlier, I-i..”.

“ shh…it’s alright honey…cmere…”

You gently let go of here, and she pulled you into a hug. You held onto her tightly, putting your head in the crook of her neck. You pulled down her sweater to try and warm her.

She pulled back, holding your face in her hands, and kissed you gently. You felt like you were going to explode from it, your heart was racing. Vanessa could see it in your face and chuckled.

“ if…you want, you guys can practice in my place…and you can pay me back by taking me to dinner~ “

“ r-really! I-I mean..you’d let us? “

“ yeah, I have a open bedroom, yall can practice in there. I wouldn’t mind having a little show either. “

You chuckled, smiling again. For the first time you felt so loved, so appreciated. You kissed her once again, standing up and leading her to the door.

“ well…give me a text..I’ll try and talk to the guys. Thank you Vanessa..thank you so much…”

“ of course y/n. I love you dear…”

You smiled, and hugged her tightly.

“ I love you too…”

Vanessa let go, and made her way to the car. She hopped in, waving to you before driving off. You stood, watching her leave, before heading back inside. Never once where you shown such care and respect for your art, you couldn’t let go of her.

[spideyhexx]

Modern Billy -

Still in the early days of dating - like a fourth date is organised and you had your car brought to the garage to be serviced and they tell you a whole bunch is wrong and give you a huge number which is arguable more than what the car is worth. So you take the car home and ponder on how you’re even gonna pay it and then while you were about to make lunch you get a call from Billy. He’s just calling because he’s ‘checking in’ if you’re still down for the date and you’re like “yeah I just took my car to that garage outside of town and they charged me … a lot…”

And he’d be like “where’d you take it?” And you’d name the place and as soon as you got that first syllable out of your mouth he’d be like “aw! No, no no no, you’re not takin’ yer little bug car there, darlin’, no way. No.”

You can imagine him rubbing his hand down his face at the thought as he shakes his head. You’d be waiting for his explanation and he’d continue, “Can ya still drive it a mile or two?”

“Yeah, it just doesn’t have much power for whatever reason.”

“Well, take it up to my place. I’ll fix ‘er. Can’t ‘ave ya bein’ robbed blind by those bastards down in that hole.” The frustration in his voice too, it’s almost comical but he’s deadly serious.

“Billy, that’s - too much, I can’t let you do that for me.”

“I won’t hear it, (he’d use your name, not a pet name so he’s serious.) I’ll have a look this evenin’ and if you come up here and give me that … diagnoses for the bug then I can see if they’re bullshittin’ you or not. But I can already tell you, that ain’t right soundin’.”

And the next week up until your date, you spent every evening up at his place while he fixed your car for you. And he’d look so good doing it too. Like while he’s on his back underneath and his shirt is ridden up his stomach as he reaches. And he’d have an old transistor radio playing an oldies station and it would just be quiet between you both but not in a bad way.

Then you’d say, “Billy I wanna pay you for this.”

And he’d stop what he was doing abruptly, “‘M not takin’ your money, darlin’, dream on.”

“I can’t let you do all this for me for free, I can’t.”

“I don’t see it as work” he’d say as he leaned over the engine and checked the levels of fluids.

“This is too big of a favour for someone you’ve gone on some dates with -“

“You know technically, it’s been what, six days of working at this bug and you’ve been here for all of it pretty much, sitting just there in my company, so that’s pretty much ten dates we’ve been on, now.” He picks his head up to look over at you, with a smirk growing into a smile, “I think that’s a worthwhile investment of my time.”

And you’d be speechless, just taking it in, and he’d just go back to fixing again, smiling to himself as he knew he’d won you then.

And after that, each date when you ate or did something, you sprang forward with your card to pay and he’d hate losing sometimes and it would become a little game, who could pay first. And at some point, when he was taking you back to his place, he’d say, “You don’t owe me nothin’, you know? Not a dime, darlin’. I’m not keepin’ count of somethin’ so unimportant.”

And you’d smile a little, and gaze over at him, “I appreciate it, is all, and this is how I show it. Y’know?”

And his hand with clamp over your knee and he’d just lowly say, “I know.”

ANON THIS IS WOW

[kindnessisweakness2]

1

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Noah groaned loudly. Jax and Tig turned and went to ask him whats wrong but Noah, their recently patched member of Samcro, was already making his way out of the TM Garage. There was a girl making her way across the lot, swinging a baseball bat from her shoulders. She wore black vans, blue denim shorts and a white vest top. Tattoos littered one leg completely and the thigh of her other. Her arms were also covered but she was too far to see the designs properly. She was beautiful, her hair was dyed a bright purple on one side and black on the other and it was tied up in a messy bun. If she didnt have a face full of anger Jax would definitely of hit on her. “You cheating fucking scumbag.” The scream from the girl got the rest of the clubs attention as they made their way out of the clubhouse. Even Gemma came out of her office. “Em please! I dont know what your talking about!” The girl laughed in Noahs face. “Oh so your gonna try and lie to me again? I FOUND HER FUCKING UNDERWEAR IN OUR BED YOU PRICK!” Jax watched as the girl swung at Noah’s bike, taking the wing mirror clean off. “Get the fuck away from my bike you psycho!” Noah shouted. “OH YOU MEAN THE BIKE I FUCKING PAID FOR?” The girl took another swing at the bike, this time taking the other wing mirror and headlight out in one. “Yeah tell your little fucking biker buddies, how you wouldnt even have a bike if it wasnt for me! Tell them that the subs you pay them each week come out of my fucking paycheck!” Swinging at the bike again, the girl took the exhaust clean off. “ Thats what you do to me is it Noah? I support you. Pay for all your shit, pick up after you like your a goddamn child and you have the fucking Nerve to cheat on me? In my own fucking home!” The girl pulled a pen knife from her pocket and slashed both of Noahs tyres. “No baby! i didnt! I wouldnt!” Noah tried to reason with her but clearly it was getting him nowhere. “Your fucking pathetic.” The girl pulled a pair of underwear from her pocket and threw it in Noah’s face. “I bet you gave her the best 5 seconds of her whole life. Newsflash mate, your shit in bed. If you fucked her like you fucked me she probably had to go to the bathroom after to finish what you couldnt.” Noah went bright red at the insult and Jax couldnt help but laugh. The girl turned her attention towards him and made her way over. “I suggest when you next pick someone to join your club, dont pick a lying prick who doesnt even own the bike he sits on.” And with that, the girl turned and made her way out of the lot. 

Clay shook his head at Noah. “Church now.” He called and everyone started making their way into the Clubhouse. “I like her. Shes spunky!” Jax shook his head at his moms comment. Ofcourse Gemma likes the new Psychopath in charming.  Making his way into the meeting room, he took his VP seat next to Clay and watched the chaos unfold. "So your telling me your girl has been paying your way? That's a fucking joke Noah." Every member of the group nodded in agreement. Yeah sure alot of them stepped out on their old ladies, especially with the road rule. But living off your woman and cheating in your home town? That was a no no. "Look, she supported me. With everything. She pays my subs and yes she owns the bike. Even gives me fuel money for the runs we go on. I didn't mean to get caught cheating. I thought I was on Top of it. Never thought she would find out." Jax shook his head at Noah's admission. "It's not that she found out Asshole! It's how you've treated her. A good woman that supports you like that is hard to fucking come by! The road rule is there for a reason! Fuck half of us round this table would kill for an old lady like that. But the fact is, a man that dont pay his way aint a man at all!" Piney snapped at a panicked looking Noah. Piney rarely spoke but everyone knew the level of anger that old man could reach, oxygen tank or not. Noah fell silent at Piney’s Outburst. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Your busted back to prospect.” Clay announced before taking a drag on his Cigar. Noah’s eyes widened, “Thats fucking Bullshit! I’ve not even had my patch 3 months!” Tig’s eyes glossed over in anger as he watched the newbie shout at his president. Reaching out, he grabbed the back of Noah’s neck and slammed his face on the Redwood Table. “Did you just raise your voice at your president?” Noah squirmed against Tigs hold. “Now, you either prospect for another 18 months, pay your own fucking way and earn your patch back. Or you leave, and you know what happens then.” Clay gave Noah the ultimatum and the rest of the club fell silent as they waited for Noah to make his choice. “I’ll Stay.” Tig Released his hold on the young lad before pulling him up by his kutte and roughly dragging it from his shoulders. Happy smirked as he threw a prospect kutte in Noahs face before Tig Pushed him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Jax looked at Clay confused. “We’re really gonna give him another chance? He doesnt even own a bike?” Clay shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone around this table knows he’s gonna fuck up. Especially not having that girl keeping him in line. But when he fucks up i want him close, where i can see it and deal with it. We really do not need a loose cannon right now. Anyway, go see that girl. All her details are on the paperwork for the bike, Gemma’s gonna need to know what to do with it.” Jax shook his head in disbelief at Clay. He couldnt believe it. Noah should be kicked out of this clubhouse head fucking first. He didnt earn his place in this club, his woman did. He also couldnt believe the nerve of being ordered to visit the firecracker that was this girl. For all he knew, she would never want to see a Son’s of Anarchy Patch again. So Clay really was throwing him in the line of fire here. 

However, despite his obvious disagreement, Jax got up from his seat at the table and made his way out of the clubhouse. The only thing he could think on his way out of Teller Morrow was maybe he should’ve stopped for his bulletproof vest. 

Pulling up to the address that his mum text him, Jax was Suprised at how quiet it was. Considering her performance at the lot earlier, he was expecting screaming and a trashed house. Instead he found her sat on her front porch quietly smoking a cigarette. "Hey" he spoke softly as he approached her. Like she was a wounded animal that could kick out in fear and pain at any moment. She looked up at him through glossy eyes. Her cheeks were red and hair falling out of her messy bun, but despite her upset appearance Jax still thought she was beautiful. That couldn't be denied. "Hi, look I'm sorry for my outburst today-" she started to explain, but Jax cut her off quickly. “Dont Sweat it Darlin’. From what i heard, he deserved it.” He spoke as he took a seat next to her on the porch steps. Pulling a cigarette out of his pocket he lit it and took a few puffs. “I’ve been sent to ask what you want doing with the bike. It aint his and after everything the clubs not letting him keep it. Your names on the paperwork, so what do you want doing to it?” Jax watched as she rolled her eyes. “What the fuck am i gonna do with a Harley? Just Fix it and sell it. Strip it for parts. Fuck burn it for all i care.” She shrugged at Jax’s shocked expression. “Thats an expensive Bike, surely your gonna want it back?” Jax tried to encourage her to take the bike. “Yeah, ofcourse it was expensive. But i honestly couldnt give a shit. You like it, you  have it.” Jax raised his hands in mock surrender as the anger in the girls eyes flashed. “Okay Darlin’ you win. You’ll have to come by the garage tomorrow tho. Sign the bike over.” She sighed and pushed her fallen hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sure.” Jax stood and started to make his way down the path towards his bike. “Oh and my name aint Darlin’ either.” She called after him making him turn to face her. “Its Emily.” 

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Hi Guys,

This is something new I’ve been working on. I have 2 more chapters if you turn out to like it. Please please let me know what you think!!

Love to you all!!  

[endlessnightlock]

50 Reasons to Share a Bed: 48) Because I’ll always be the one to patch you up.

Thank you, @thelettersfromnoone <3!

From 50 Reasons To Share A Bed

“I’m sorry to bother you this late,” Peeta murmurs as I let him in the back door as quietly as I can so I don't wake up my family.

He looks terrible. One of his eyes is red and swollen, blood pooling beneath the thin, translucent skin. He holds a rag to the corner of his mouth. I grimace at his wounds but don't answer. We’ll talk when we get to my room.

I won’t tell him I was asleep until a reoccurring dream about him woke me with just enough to make it out of bed and down the steps to the kitchen. My hand landed on the handle seconds before his light wrap tapped against the storm door. Instead of saying all those crazy things, because he's my friend and it's a bit much to tell him I dream about him almost every night, I wait while he carefully pulls his shoes off and tucks them under his arm.

Of course, he never asks how I know ahead of time that he needs a place to sleep, so maybe the dreams aren't so crazy.

After grabbing one of the bags of ice I keep in the back of the freezer for him, Peeta follows me through the kitchen and across the living room, then up the carpeted back stairs of the house that lead to my bedroom above our two-stall garage.

My strategically placed bedroom is the only way I've kept Peeta's late-night comings and going secret. Not that we do anything for Mom or Dad to worry about. It's not like he's my boyfriend or tries to kiss me or anything like that. Not for lack of wanting him to.

I sneak a peek at his battered face from under my lashes as I let him into my room, the direction of my thoughts shaming me. I've wondered more than once what it would be like to kiss him. But my role in his life is a friend, a protector, not a lover. Sometimes I'm so stupid.

"You aren't bothering me. I wasn’t sleeping,” I finally supply, keeping my arms folded across my stomach, careful not to touch him as he moves past. I have to hold my breath because it's too erratic and would be evident in the quiet room. Tension crops up every time we're alone now. I wish I knew what Peeta was thinking. Once I turn out the light and we lay down in my double bed, it's not so bad. You don't have to pretend your feelings aren't real in the dark.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Peeta supplies, sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling ruefully. I hand him the ice pack, which he wraps around the rag in his hand before placing it against his split lip again.

"I don't know why you insist on doing this," I say, lowering myself to sit beside him.

"This money is good."

Sweet, sunny Peeta fights on Friday nights for money. He's never said it outright, but what he's doing has to be illegal. He's big and strong but still has a babyish quality to his face. If you're paying attention, it's easy to see he isn't older than seventeen. When his father died, his mother checked out of life and into alcoholism; he had to find a way to pay the bills. It was that simple, he told me. He could take a few hits. He just couldn't go home to his mom looking like that.

I sigh unhappily. He knows how much I hate what he does. Why bring it up again and again?

I watch him scoot across the bed to his usual place next to the wall. "But I do make a pretty punching bag, don't you think?"

Instead of answering, I turn out my bedside lamp, plunging us into darkness. I don't want to get into all of this tonight. He deserves better, but I can't convince him. I've tried.

In the dark, I find the courage to curl up to his side. "You're not going to stay so pretty if you keep doing this," I whisper. "You're lucky no one has broken your nose yet."

"I won't do it much longer. Promise."

KPKPKPKPKPKP

It's been years. Years and years since I've seen Peeta. Years since I dreamt of him. Years since I knew whether he needed me or not, just gone, vanished. When his life started spiraling out of control, when he was making bad decisions that could only be topped by worse ones and wouldn't do a thing to accept the help offered him, I had to step away.

Yet here he is, sitting on my couch. Several days old beard, too long hair, torn up jeans, and a flannel shirt. A ball cap pulled low to shade his eyes. At least he looks and smells clean in all senses of the word. "You look like hell," I say, dropping to sit beside him.

Peeta groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch. "Same old tactful Katniss, I see."

"Don't be an idiot," I murmur, toning down my irritation and the urge to yell at him. You can do this, I tell myself. He's here. He's safe for now. "Why did you come here tonight? I haven't heard from you in forever," I add.

He frowns in disbelief like I'm supposed to know that. "You called me."

I jerk back. Like I would be the one to reach out after all the shitty things, he did to me. "I did not; I don't have your number. I'm surprised you even have a phone!"

"That's not what I meant. And, while you're at it, can the lecture. I'm still a pretty big asshole, but I've made some improvements. I own a phone. I'm in AA. NA. I've been out of trouble. I've been at the same job for the last two years. So don't look at me like that."

I clear my throat, and that's all it takes for him to dive back into the surliness.

"So give me a fucking break, would you?"

It's on the tip of my tongue to fire something back at him, but I pause and really look at him instead. The wariness in his eyes, the wall he's attempting to keep up despite the cracks springing. An edge of hopefulness in his expression---whatever it was that sent him here tonight and made me dream of him again.

"No, I won't give you a break," I say softly.

"God, Katniss. Why can't you just let go of what we were?"

Or what we could have been.

I sigh. "If you want me to let go of you, why are you here?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But I'm better than I was. Guess I didn't feel worthy of seeing you. Maybe I'm just trying to atone or some bullshit."

"Is that an apology?" I ask, smiling at his defensiveness. There were plenty of times in the past when he was blase about his shitty behavior, infuriating me, pushing me away. He has to care what I think, or he wouldn't behave that way. He knows his best isn't good enough but is determined to push on with it.

Peeta nods jerkily. "Yeah. It is. Not a very good one."

"It's good enough. What else? Do you need me to patch you up? I don't see any open wounds."

He grins at that, and it breaks the tension between us. "No, no more fights. Saved my pretty face after all."

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you when I'm sober," he says softly. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. You were so good to me, and I just shit all over it."

This time I'm the one nodding. I want to turn my head and wipe the hot, quick tears away from my eyes before he sees.

"I thought you'd given up on me," he adds.

"I thought I had. Surprised both of us, I guess."

Peeta takes my hand. We don't speak; we just sit together as I try to make my whirring brain slow down. I can't believe he's here with me. I've wanted him back in my life for so long. tonight. Sober and clean, admitting his wrongs. "It's late," he says, squeezing my hand before releasing it. He shifts on the couch, ready to stand and leave, I'm sure.

But I just got him back.

"It always was late when you came to see me," I say, leaning my head against his shoulder. "You kind of turned me into a night owl, Mellark."

I settle against him, putting my arm around his waist. I know this is too much intimacy, too fast with someone who hurt me like he did. But I dreamed of him again, like I did when we were close. I'm terrible at lying to myself; I never take my own advice when my heart's attached.

Tonight feels like a dream. I'm warm and comfortable, and the heaviest weight of my life has eased. Not disappeared because I don't trust him yet. I'll probably wake up any minute, so I'd better keep him with me as long as possible. What if he's gone again when I wake up?

"Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?" I ask. "For old times' sake?"

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s02ep02 “Put On Your Thinking Caps, Kids! It's Time For Mr. Wisdom!” Review and Commentary

Previous episodes linked here.

In this episode: Old college rivals, volcanoes, and game-show host Marty

Doc's transmission to us in this episode begins at the "Hill Valley Space Center and Air Sickness Clinic," where he's about to take a trip into outer space. The local cable company has recruited him to overhaul their communication satellite. Fancy job!

Doc is especially excited because the cable company has promised him free cable plus premium channels. He goes on to tell us that it isn't his first experience with broadcasting and leads us into the cartoon with, "It all started when Marty was studying for his astronomy class."

Let's see what wacky chain of events happened all because of Marty trying to study, shall we?

We open the cartoon with Marty riding his hoverboard to Doc's house. As usual, he isn't paying any attention to where he's going—on account of he's trying to study while he rides. He glances up just in time to realize that he's about to crash straight into Doc's garage door, which elicits this expression...

After flying into the garage, Doc shows him his new invention: M.A.R.I.E (Memory Archive Recall Indexer and Enhancer). It's a machine that helps the user to recall any memory.

Doc demonstrates, putting on a helmet and proceeding to look like he's being electrocuted. There's lots of zapping and flashing and thrashing, which happens so quickly that you can't really fully appreciate all the faces Doc makes unless you continuously go back through the scene and pause it. Which is what I did. Here are some highlights.

Ridiculous.

Marty needs help studying for his science test. Doc won't give him any answers, but he does tell Marty he's free to use the library in the house. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that Marty will end up using this new machine to enhance his memory. Hmm...

We go check in on Verne then, who is tuning in for his favorite show, Mr. Wisdom. Jules, who is also in the room, voices his disapproval of both Verne sitting so close to the TV and Mr. Wisdom, who he says is a "phony." Verne doesn't care, though, and becomes overjoyed when he learns that Mr. Wisdom is traveling around on his bus and will be visiting Hill Valley the following day. Marty says he wants to go too since he'd rather ask Mr. Wisdom his science questions instead of actually looking through books for the answers.

Doc enters the room and freaks out at seeing Mr. Wisdom on the screen, but we don't get a reason as to why.

The next day, Marty and Verne venture over to Lone Pine Mall to meet Mr. Wisdom. Marty is less than impressed when Mr. Wisdom appears on stage for all of 10 seconds before directing the audience full of children to the gift shop and then literally vanishing in a flash of smoke and light??

We soon learn that Mr. Wisdom isn't the fun, goofy show host that he appears to be. Back on his bus, he's calculating how much money he's gotten out of "those little twerps." A small child finds his way onto the bus to ask for an autograph, and Mr. Wisdom opens A TRAP DOOR that the kid falls into. He is not a nice guy. This is him, btw. (in his Mr. Wisdom form, at least. It's revealed that this is a mask he puts on)

Yeah, that looks like a guy who would use trapdoors to make children disappear.

Verne talks Marty into going onto the bus to meet Mr. Wisdom, where the man soon learns who Verne's father is. "Emmett Lathrop Brown?!" he exclaims, to which Marty reacts with amusement at learning Doc's middle name. (do you really expect me to believe that Marty wouldn't have known this already??)

Anyway, if there are two good things the animated series gave us, it's Doc and Marty's middle names. This also makes me think of that strange little "theory" that's been floating around since forever that claims Doc's first and middle names read backward is "time portal." Ttemme Porhtal. I mean. Lathrop could for sure be read as "portal" but it's a stretch with Emmett. Though, "time" spelled backward can be read as "emit."

I digress...

Mr. Wisdom says that Emmett is his dearest old friend and suggests he go home with the boys to surprise him. Let's see how that goes.

After being left alone in the garage, Mr. Wisdom does some snooping around and takes a look at some of Doc's inventions. He's particularly intrigued when he finds the DeLorean, saying, "Could it be? His old college dream? Oh, not a flux capacitor!" And I take issue with this line because didn't Doc only come up with the flux capacitor that night he hit his head? This cartoon just does whatever it wants, though, so I shouldn't be surprised.

Doc isn't happy in the slightest to find his old college acquaintance in his house and runs him right out. When Marty and Verne question what the problem is, Doc tells them the story involves a long flashback, which we then go into. It all starts at the college Doc attended.

What a great name for a college.

Doc and Mr. Wisdom, whose real name is Walter, were roommates and frat brothers apparently. Here they are in happier times:

They're preparing for a science convention, and it becomes clear right away that Walter is jealous of Doc's inventions and his intelligence. When the day of the award ceremony comes, Walter wins after having stolen Doc's invention—the perpetual motion hula hoop. From there, Walter went on to sign a deal with a toy company, became wealthy, and was given his own science show. Doc finishes telling his tale with tears in his eyes (he's cutting onions while he tells it, lol).

Later that night, Walter Wisdom sneaks into Doc's lab to steal some of his inventions. Doc, Jules, and Verne wake up just in time to see the DeLorean speed off, and they manage to get a look at the date and location on the time circuits by using a specialized camera. His destination is ancient Egypt. Doc gathers the boys (including Marty, who had still been at the house trying to study) and they take off after Walter. Their excursion to Egypt lasts all of 30 seconds, though, as Walter changes course and programs the car to go to Krakatoa in 1883. Doc shoots out a rope and plunger-type device from the train that connects to the DeLorean, so they get pulled right along to the next time period. Once there, Walter flies the car over a volcano and cuts the rope, sending the train hurtling toward doom.

The train is immediately swallowed by lava. Goodbye Doc, Marty, Jules, and Verne. It's been real.

Meanwhile, back in the present day, Clara has woken up and is wondering where everyone is. She catches a broadcast that Mr. Wisdom is doing where he's advertising his new invention: a DeLorean time machine. Thankfully, his evil plans are crushed before anything can come of his little late-night commercial when Doc and the gang walk onto his stage. Yes, they're alive! And they look like this!

Doc just happened to have several of his "full-body oven mitts" on board the train, which protected them all from the lava. (I would very much like to know why Doc didn't just invent. Like. Regular looking suits that protect against fire. In what world is this a practical design? But it is very funny.)

Things continue to get even wackier when—after Walter and Doc argue for a bit over who's the "real" inventor—Marty proposes they settle it via an impromptu game show. ???? I guess to prove to the audience watching at home that Walter is a liar and thief?

So. Yeah, they throw together a whole elaborate game show with lights and flashing signs and such. They bring out each of the inventions Walter has stolen and challenge him to explain them, and when he can't, the points go to Doc. Marty's the host. It's all extremely silly.

I do like that Doc and his sons have matching pajamas. (But I must point out that only Doc was wearing them when they embarked on their journey in the train a few scenes prior. Jules had on a beige colored night-shirt, and Verne was wearing red pjs. So...this seems like an error. Which is par for the course for this show; there are SO many mistakes that I catch.)

The game show shenanigans come to an end when Walter attempts to use M.A.R.I.E. and fails to use the correct settings, causing him to have his memory wiped. Doc and the boys head home, and all is well.

We end the episode with Doc in outer space, where he's busy fixing the satellite. There isn't much interesting there, though. And that's it! Not a fan of this episode, to be honest. It was VERY disjointed, and all the action was rushed. It felt more like this should have been a two-parter, and they just squeezed everything into a single episode where the end chase scene and weird game show was made to fit into like...3 minutes total toward the end. We don't even get to see the volcano stuff. We just see the car fly into it, then it's a swift cut to the Mr. Wisdom TV segment, where Doc and the boys appear a few seconds later wearing the oven mitts. This might have had the potential to be an interesting episode if it had been split in two, and we got to see more chaos unfold.

After the last episode where Doc was put into that tiny jar, I just don't think anything else this show does will satisfy me.

Join me next time to meet Biff's son, Jennifer's grandparents, and. I dunno. The Futurepedia summary for it is long and convoluted, and I don't want to read it, lol.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 5

taglist: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

AN: this started getting longer than I wanted so the next part will introduce Malcolm McDowell properly and be the actual con. Warnings: comic con, talk of horror movies, swearing, confusion on feelings, Loki's scars

Rushing around, I double checked my backpack and nearly ran into Loki as I ran back into my room for my portable charger.

"Sorry!" I yelled and shoved it into a pocket in my bag. Loki stood in my living room watching me with a smile on his face. "Ok. I think that's everything. Ready?" He nodded and opened the door. "Oh shit! Wait a sec. I need the passes." I ran into my kitchen and grabbed them from where they hung on the fridge handle.

"Got them?" Loki asked when I reappeared in front of him. Nodding, I handed him one and threw the other around my neck.

“Alright. Let's go." Loki stifled a yawn as we made our way to my car. "So first off, something you need to know about Malcolm. He is a little protective of me. Since day one. Gods knows how many years ago now. He will question you and he will try to intimidate you." I looked over at Loki as I drove us to the convention center. "Especially if you try to hold my hand." Loki blushed and looked out the window at the mention of our awkward stage. We weren't dating per se but we also had moved past just being friends at this point as well. “Malcolm can and will kiss my cheek. Don’t question it. He will get pissy with people especially if they treat me like shit. I have candy in my bag for him. Don’t touch it unless I ask you to get it. Uhm…” I trailed off as I pulled up to the parking garage.

“He sounds delightful. Remind me why we’re doing this?” Loki grimaced. I chuckled and smiled over at him.

“Because it’s Malcolm McDowell. The man was my first… client technically. There’s a lot of history with us and he looked out for me. I owe him a bit. Plus it’s easy money.” I loved over at him as I grabbed my ticket from the kiosk and laughed softly. “Well for me it is. I have no clue what he’s having you do.” Loki rolled his eyes and I laughed as I pulled into a spot. Shutting off the car, I grabbed lokis hand. “Listen just get through today and you don’t have to come back tomorrow. I’m going to do the whole weekend. Malcolm is like my con father. And he’s the best adult figure I have in my life. So I’m going to spend as much time with him as I can.”

“I understand.” Loki murmured. I nodded and got out of the car. He trailed behind me as I got us through security and over to check in.

“Hi Karla.” I greeted the older lady sitting at the checkin table. “How you been?” She stood up and hugged me. I blushed a little as she pulled away only to brush some hair out of my face.

“Good. You?” I nodded and smiled at her. “Good. Malcolm ask you to work?” I nodded again and showed her the text.

“He got my friend a job too.” I pointed over my shoulder at Loki. “He here yet?” Karla checked us in and handed me the packet with Malcolm’s itinerary.

“Still up in his room as far as I know. Agent was in the hall earlier but I don’t think he’s sticking around for the whole weekend.” I nodded and flipped through. “He’s got a panel today at three and a photo op at five.” I nodded and grabbed a pen off the desk to mark what I was being told. “There’s a photo op at noon tomorrow and one at ten Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded before flipping the file shit. “We’re gonna go set up. If you see him or the agent, let them know we’re walking around.” I gave her one last hug before entering the hall. Smiling to myself, I started to walk around the room.

“So where’s the table?” Loki asked as we passed another table that wasn’t ours.

“That’s what I’m looking for.” I explained. “This also lets me see who is where. Guests will ask where someone is and it’s best to help them out.” Loki nodded next to me. “Basically being nice and doing something you would want done for you if you were paying to be here. Some handlers aren’t that way and it makes guests think we all are rude. I try to be the exception.” I passed another table and tapped it. “Here we are.” I walked behind the table and dropped my bag. Flipping the table skirt down, I grabbed the banner and unfolded it. Loki watched as I tilted a chair back to find the tape. “Alright tall person. I need you for this.” I handed him the banner and showed him where to hold it. “I’m gonna grab the chair and tape it. Just hold it up and make sure it’s level.” Loki nodded and held the banner up. As I put the last bit of tape on, I jumped off the chair and stepped back.

“Looks good.” Loki mused. I nodded in agreement. “Now what?” Ducking down behind the table, I pulled out a black file folder. Smiling, I held it up. Loki stared at it in confusion.

"This has a bunch of 8 by 10 pictures that guests can pick for Malcolm to sign. We lay out the ones that tend to be incredibly popular." I shrugged as I opened it up. "I tend to do a lot of Clockwork Orange and Halloween. His agent isn't here to tell me otherwise so I just do it. Tomorrow morning there will be more from when his agent comes down to check on the table. If he comes." Thumbing through the pictures, I grabbed sets of ten and started laying them out.

"What's in this bag under here?" Loki asked as he pulled it out. I looked up and nodded when he went to open it. "DVDs? Scripts?" I nodded again and grabbed the bag of markers from the back of the file folder.

"Yeah. He sells copies of Clockwork Orange and whatnot as well. Scripts to that and a couple other movies. They're a big hit." I shrugged as Loki started to put them out. I tested each marker and threw out the ones that didn't work. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out replacements. Finally finishing my end of the table, I looked over at Loki who was contemplating what else to pull out of the bag. Grabbing the tape, I picked up the sign with Malcolm's prices. I tapped it to the wall at the end of the table. Grabbing a sheet of paper out of my bag, I copied everything on the sheet before taping it over at the head of the table. Loki tossed the bag back under the table and I stepped back with my hands on my hips.

“That all?” I nodded and turned around to start walking around the con. “Where are you going? Don’t we have to wait for Malcolm?”

“Nope. Malcolm will either call or text me when he’s on his way down. Until then, we get to walk the floor.” I smiled over my shoulder at him as we started walking. “See what they’re selling and get prices. Plus it helps to see where everyone else is.” Loki fell into step next to me and I reached over to hold his hand. Loki blushed as he squeezed my hand and tugged me closer. “Is there anyone here you would want to meet?” I asked as I kept an eye on the tables lining the walls of the con. Loki shrugged.

“I haven’t kept up with modern movies. I prefer the older ones.” Loki mused as he watched me. I laughed.

“Loki, most of these actors are in the older movies.” I looked over at him and smiled. “Look. This table will be for Doug Bradley. The one next to him is Kane hodder. Next to Malcolm is Heather langenkamp. It’s mainly people in horror movies from the 80s and 90s.” Loki laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

“Then I must admit I didn’t watch many of the horror movies.” I smiled at him again.

“I didn’t either. Until I was a teen.” I shrugged and continued walking. “Depression and anxiety does something to you. Grief too.” My face turned stoney as I turned down an aisle. It was silent for a while as I looked at the booths. I smiled and said hello to some of the vendors that I recognized.

“I’m sorry.” Loki said as we headed back towards Malcolm’s table. I looked over at him and frowned.

“For what?” I asked. Loki smiled sadly at me.

“For whatever it was that was you went through that horror movies no longer scared you.” I took a deep breath and nodded.

“Thank you. But you don’t have to apologize.” I squeezed his hand and let go when I saw Malcolm come into the hall. “Besides, I’m fine now.” Smiling at Loki I nodded towards the table before running towards it. “Malcolm!” I called as I ran into him and hugged him. Malcolm hugged me back tightly.

“(Y/N)! How have you been my dear?” He asked as he pulled away to look at me.

“Never better.” I smiled at him. Shaking his head, Malcolm kissed my cheek and hugged me again. “It’s so good to see you.” I sighed out. Malcolm nodded against my shoulder. Pulling away completely, I turned towards Loki. “Malcolm, this is Loki. He’s my friend.” Loki put on a fake smile and held his hand out for Malcolm to shake. Malcolm looked from me to Loki before shaking his hand.

“(Y/N) has told me about you.” Malcolm said with a sly smile. “We have a bit to talk about.” I looked between the two and swallowed thickly.

[sweetswesf]

Thanksgiving & Colleague Date

Despite my grandparents not even being able to walk without canes, they had to cook Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving has not been enjoyable since high school for me. At a certain point, I became conscious to how glutenous Thanksgiving made me feel. On top of that, i just really hate not feeling great after the high fat and sodium. On top of THAT, my mom isn’t the main cook ever since my parents split and her replacement cooks, my paternal grandparents, my father, my maternal aunt, just do a bad job. The food is actually bad and there are few things I don’t think taste good.

This year, while I appreciate a hot home-cooked meal, the dressing was NOT done, the turkey was not good, the rolls were burnt, the greens were overcooked, no mac, etc. My dad said my grandmother was literally vomiting so hard the morning of Thanksgiving that they were not even sure it was going to be cooked. My grandfather literally had to sit on a stool to cook. When I walked in the door when I arrived from the airport, before I even put my bags down, my grandfather asked for help. I figured they would require more help this year, but I just vote for us not doing it and going out or ordering the food in. They always overcook too. I know because I cleaned and put everything up. I’m not even sure they enjoy it. 2 days after Thanksgiving, fridge still full of leftovers, they bought KFC and fried catfish.

My mom’s side did the takeout thing one year, and I loved it! Thai. Nice and easy. No clean up. It was cheaper and actually tasty. We even did Shabu Shabu that year. I even invited the girl that I told yall called me cheap after I didn’t pay her for the Coachella stay 🥴. But now my aunt has gone back to cooking traditional Thanksgiving and I really don’t enjoy her cooking.

I can be grateful for a meal but still want us all to save money, eat healthier, have something we all enjoy, and save time. 🤷🏾‍♀️. If the tradition no longer is working, let’s change it…

I eat it not because I want to but because I just really don’t want to hear anyone’s mouth.

I get thrown off my healthy eating habits. I made a trip to Sprouts and had to hide my food in the outside garage.

I didn’t spend the night of my mother’s. I thought I would have a convo with her about how I feel hurt by them still not holding my brother accountable for all these years of blaming me for why we don’t talk and them believing him, then him confessing that it was him all along and him saying that I was only trying to help and wanted the best for him. He avoids me whenever I am in town and for the longest, everyone thought it was me despite me telling them it wasn’t, but because we each have had our disagreements (which involved me holding them accountable for ways they hurt me and them not wanting to hear it) they believed him, even though I felt they knew it wasn’t the truth. Them believing him would require them to face how I was right when I held them accountable for the things I called them out for in treatment of me.

My little brother has always been distant from me. I didn’t like that my mother babied him and seemed to be disgusted by any physical affection like hugs or laying next to each other on the couch that I craved from her. She admitted she has always had a problem with physical affection. She isn’t a very hug-y person even to this day. Anyway, back to him, I always wanted to help my little brother navigate every step of life and he just would not let me. He admitted to my parents that although we never said explicitly, he felt implicitly that he had to do just as good if not better than me. I was a very high achiever, but I was just trying to ensure that I didn’t go hungry, because this world can be crude cruel and the competition is stiff. I wanted to help him navigate and learn from the mistakes I made. But he was so intimidated that he just shut me out. He had to sell his narrative so he went so far as to block my phone number. He went through all of school and even grad school without telling me. Everyone, even peers and family members though, say they didn’t think he liked them because he is very anti-social and oftentimes rude. He’s never been required to develop certain social skills. And my family has never required him to do right by me. Every time I come down to visit, he will go to the other parent’s house to avoid me. I know almost nothing about the guy and can count on my hands how many conversations we have had.

My mom didn’t want to talk to him and hold him accountable and she wanted me to sleep in the closet where he used to sleep while he sleeps in the bed during my visit for Thanksgiving. I said absolutely not. If I were married, they would never ask this. I mentioned this in my last post, but mentioning it again for reference. Anyway, I felt bad.

When I hung out with my mom, I thought we would talk about this or Cynthia and not seeing Wicked. She had an attitude when I got in the car, as I assumed she would. I didn’t even match her energy. I just fake smiles. I know how my family treats me and I know I can go to refuge back in the South Bay, so I just tolerate it for some time.

I set up a cooking class for us and saw a friend from high school there. It was a fun class and I finally got to make cavatelli with the paddle thing AND orchetti. Class was half white and half black and the teacher spoke down to the Black women. Meanwhile, I’ve lived in Milan and studied and spoke the language fluently for years, but I didn’t say nothing. Teacher was shocked at how good my orchetti was shaped and asked, shocked, “You did that?!” 🙄

Anyway, my mom was in such a rush at the end. I couldn’t sit and enjoy. It’s like she’s checked out. We talk and have convos, but sometimes I know her mind is running and she can’t be present…she had finished her meal but I hadn’t finished mine but she was urging me to finish…

Went to a bar with my colleague that I have a crush on but he has a gf. Ever since knowing, I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m not attracted to him. I definitely don’t intend on involving myself with him, but he’s attractive. He told me to let him know the next time I was down in LA. I was down for my reunion and completely forgot to tell him. That’s how much I have been trying to distance myself. I even have thought of canceling our biweekly 1:1s, because I don’t need more opportunities to fall further. It’s hard for me to just be friends with men I find attractive and they haven’t introduced to me to their significant others.

Well, I found myself talking about how I came down for my reunion a few weeks ago and he called out I didn’t tell him and I felt bad for forgetting, so the next time, which was this weekend, I kept my word. He picked a hipster (wow, no one uses this word anymore…) outdoor pastrami spot. At first I thought, “Eww, what does he think of me? Cheap!?” I showed up and it was really cute! Romantic! Frequented by grown and classy Black folks.

Before arriving, I pushed us back TWICE to 8 from our originally planned 7. He handled it well every time. Even said, “If you get hungry, there’s a pastrami spot nearby.” He’s a lot of what I’m looking for in a partner. But, I’m not going to lie. I felt really bad about going knowing how I feel and knowing he has a partner, on a Saturday night in what was an intimate-feeling bar. Drinks were wack, but definitely a date night bar. Nonetheless, I looked cute, smelled great, crapped, showered, and shaved before, and took a nice Comfort Uber over. Even wore some heels!

I didn’t know how to act or be. If I know the person is interested, a different me comes out. The setting gave date, but we are most certainly colleagues. I wasn’t trying to mess anything up in terms of our working relationship, even though I don’t imagine we will work together closely at our current place of work ever since I moved teams, but he IS thinking of transferring to my group soon…

I imagined it slightly tending towards a romantic convo, and imagined we’d get pretty deep. One of those was true…

We talked from 8 till 11:30. We got deep into our parents’ relationships, high school, LA, why I’m still in the Bay, 2025 goals, entrepreneurship aspirations, concerts, Drake & Kendrick’s feud, and exchanged trip photos and stories from our separate trips to Japan. Here’s where I got into my ethnic identity, how my maternal grandparents came about, how my Japanese family asked me via a note as I was leaving on the train if my maternal grandmother had been abused 🥴.

There was a point where we both got a little buzzed, me I feel more so than him, because it takes NOTHING to get my tipsy these days. And I’m a fun buzzed. I’m already a pretty free spirit and lover of life, but I just get even more friendly. And I care less than I already do about how I look or what I say. My filter I feel can get in the way of me speaking clearly. I don’t drink to get drunk. In fact, after that night, I vowed to try to be more sober and give up alcohol altogether. It’s doing more harm than good at this point. My skin hasn’t been improving and alcohol doesn’t help it, and I need all the youth I can get given the lack of sleep I get on the reg.

There was no funny business. No convos about sex. He mentioned his girlfriend and I FINALLY got to see pics of her. OF COURSE I compared us! We look similar, as I expected, because he said she was Ethiopian. Someone asks me every day if I’m Habesha, since I was a kid. Ain’t no “better”. We both beautiful in our own ways.

He paid for everything. His gf picked him up. I had to ask to meet her. He seemed a bit reluctant when I asked. He never said no, just, it was a hesitant, “Sure.” Weird.

I hung outside her car, tipsy af because I had been drinking more than usual that day (and started with the cooking class as early as noon! on little sleep and food; maybe this is why he was reluctant to say yes to me meeting her). I shook her hand, told her she was gorgeous and how I had heard a lot about her. She definitely seems warm and a great socializer. I’m a little more rough around the edges, I feel…She offered me a ride home, and I may have obliged sober, but my true feelings came out a bit and thanked her kindly but said my Uber was here. Girl, it’s weird enough! Take me out of my misery and let me go home tipsy solo…again…

I felt I needed to push past the fear of not asking and ask to meet her for girl code purposes. How trash would it look that she’s literally right there and I don’t speak when I’ve just spoken to her pretty serious boyfriend for HOURS alone at night and she ain’t never met me…

I asked him via text that night how much I owed him and he said I didn’t owe him anything but that the next round’s on me in the Bay. He’ll be there next week. Why didn’t he just invite his gf and make it a friend thing where I could have invited people too, especially if she was going to pick him up anyway? She probably dropped him off too.

Hopefully I’m doing a good job at masking how I feel and he’s not doing all this knowing how I feel, cause that would be cruel. I don’t like that and wouldn’t want my boyfriend going to bars with women late night and having me pick them up afterwards. I felt weird accepting the invitation to go out but didn’t want to make it weird by saying no. Some people are very secure with their relationships. Many people are also swingers, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting him to ask me so I could SHUT HIM DOWN but be flattered by the proposition…Maybe I’m a little scarred and used to married men acting single, but idk, we ain’t tight like that to need to go to a bar together on a Saturday night when he has something going on feels weird to me. I want to ask him what he thinks I think of him. I’m not sure if it’s a leading question. I kinda want to joking be like, “Your gf let you be out with female friends she ain’t met?,” and “What did you think of me asking to meet her…” Let me know in the comments how ya’ll feel and how yall think I should address it.

Idk…he won some points and lost some…won for being a gentleman…lost also for being a gentleman 😅. Although he has good qualities, I would never want him. He’s officially marked himself as friend forever, because I would never approve of him doing this if we were together. No. You not finna embarrass me like that. That girl don’t have to endure that either. Am I tripping y’all??

Before I left home to come back to the Bay, I had some alone time with my grandfather. He said, “Before I die, I would love to see you and your brother getting along again.” I love my grandfather, but told him that was unfair. I pleaded my side and shared how offended I was that after all these years, the onus to salvage the relationship seems to be on me despite the hurt I’ve endured and the attempts I’ve made (that I didn’t have to) to mend our relationship. I also called out that they never hold my brother to the same standard. He wasn’t fully convinced. I told my mom in person when we hung out I would come over for Christmas, but almost immediately after, and ESPECIALLY after my convo with my grandfather, I felt I needed to stick to caring for myself and I did that with this:

On my way out the door to head to the airport, I poked my eye with a hanger. I felt it was for getting really passionate and not listening to my grandfather. I felt it was God humbling me, and reminding me, that I have a great opportunity with work, and I could have ended it by poking my eye out because I was rushing to get in the closet in that hoarding house. I need to be more grateful and be a better steward of my blessings. Give more. Be on time. Eat right. Stop drinking to get closer to men that really don’t care about me like that…

I felt really bad after the date…in fact, really bad that nothing had happened…not gonna like. Like, I was glad we can remain friends, but also I didn’t trust that his intentions are pure and I felt like he needed a who boost, because I’ve been that for dudes before, unbeknownst to me…

I analyzed all the ways in which I have done that to other guys, but I haven’t done that in very long. Maybe it’s still my past, but, I’ve matured past that now.

I always leave home happy to get back to the Bay. My thoughts this time are, I don’t know where I fully want or need to be, but I FEEL like God wants me here in the Bay. Even the sermon at church today mentioned not moving until God says so and making new places home. Perhaps the Bay is that. I’ve fought living here for so long, but I love what it’s made me, the opportunities it’s afforded me, and I think the possibilities for my career will be optimal here, but I also wonder if NY will nurture the other sides of me: closer to my friends there, potential spouse and experiences out there…and it may be great given that the company I envision me selling my app to is in NY…but I’m not there yet, and despite friends from LA and NY asking me where I’m going to go and how I should go to their respective city, I don’t hear a resounding, “You should stay…” That voice is quieter in agreeance with me when I respond, “I don’t mind the Bay though…,” but it be there…Shoot, even the poll I did on this blog said I should move to LA LOL.

I’m still digging for gold to change our lives and the lives of so many other people. I’m in it for the long run. I see the vision. Everything I’ve done so far has been working out the vision God placed before me. I just have to stay prayed up so that I remain inline with his purpose for me. He plants the desires in my heart but he also grants me a lot of the desires I have too, that may or may not have come from Him. Just trying to figure it out. I’m grateful to you, Lord and ask you to keep guiding my steps.

I told my mom about the date and how uncomfortable I felt, and she suggested the next one with him should be with friends. I agree. Boy you know how I feel. Stop playing with me…and stop playing with your girlfriend (who he interchangeably calls his partner…no, sir…you don’t get to call her that until she’s at least your fiance, right?…maybe he’s wishful thinking). Maybe next time I will ask if he plans to marry her, but that also ain’t my business. See, I don’t know what is and what isn’t appropriate just yet. Cause if we was friends, I would, but if we was friends, I would have already met her before we did a solo meet up :/

A little extra for yall while I’m on this plane (which I’m finding to be one of my favorite places to right):

Before heading home for Thanksgiving, the dude I took out for his birthday who I had raw sex with carelessly after the dinner hit me. The last time we spoke was via text. He canceled on me and said he just wanted to go home and that he had to cancel because he didn’t want me to feel bad if he was feeling down in my presence and not in the mood. Given we had had sex, have known each other for over 18 years, talked about everything over dinner, for him to not share vaguely why, or even want to LIE, made me think it was about me. I told him it was cool. He then texted me a couple times after that to see if I had made it home safe to no response from me. I had already deaded the thought of investing more in that whatever weird situationship. I had even deleted his number, but I guess I didn’t block him, because when I got a random text the day before Thanksgiving from an unsaved LA number that read, “Do you do this regularly, or just to me?,” I thought it was spam. When I looked to see the message history, I concluded, “Oh he misses me 😏😏😏,” which felt great given how I’ve been on the horrible end of heartbreak, then, “How should I respond, because this sounds angry, but I don’t want to fuel the fire?”

I called him and started playfully with, “[His name]…let’s talk…“

I tried to talk, but it felt like I was thrown back to days when I argued with my Mom and Dad. I had even started cursing and screaming at one point. I’m sure my neighbors loved it…

I spoke my peace, told him I had stopped responding because I figured it was about me and that I hadn’t been seeing the things I expect from guys I want to pursue: he didn’t cuddle with me after sex, he was pretty transparent about everything BUT why he couldn’t come over. His argument was that I shouldn’t assume, but he still didn’t want to tell me the real reason or even lie, and I told him that. I even took it back to high school and said he’s never asked me to be his girlfriend. A man don’t stop at nothing if he want you to be his girlfriend, but he will play with you when he just want something from you. And this is what he was doing. He wanted me to just believe him face value. He kept telling me what I should do and I had to quickly remind him, I ain’t the same person from high school and he don’t have the same hold over me. I’m not insecure and he ain’t gave me anything to be talking out his neck. I reminded him, if I believed everything everyone said, I’d be in a worse position than I am today, but I’m doing damn good and have done pretty good without his suggestions thus far and don’t see his suggestions having that much impact on me. I respect him for trying, but his ego is WAYY too big to hear me. I was trying to teach him how conversations like this should go, but it’s not effective to teach while the test is being given. He was throwing low blow jabs, telling me I should heal from past traumas, meanwhile, he ain’t in a place to have any opinion on any of that. I told him we definitely hopped in the bed way too soon as we have no real trust established…I spared him the “and we’re not married.” He did hear me out. I had like a multi-minute monologue where I told him I was being very vulnerable and to be careful with how he responds, and when we came off of mute, it was horrible. We were already on the phone for over an hour at that point. There was no use in even taking it this far. I had threatened to get off the phone a few times, and when he would go silent, I knew he didn’t want to just end it there. I appreciated he was invested, but he wasn’t listening as he should have been. I asked him to kinda retell what I let my heart out to him about to ensure we’re on the same page which would also give me the chance to clear up anything I perhaps did not convey right. He took it as me bossing him around and he didn’t want to do it. Not even a little bit. So at that point, I figured, I don’t need to be his teacher in this. We don’t have much invested in one another. With my mom and dad, I had to struggle through, but I had already mentally been okay with not continuing this situationship with this dude, so finally I said I had had enough and told him talk to you later and actually blocked him this time.

I ain’t even mention I had to take a Plan B after the night with him 🙄. I’m grateful I have the means and recognize a lot of people don’t and end up with responsibilities with people they didn’t ask for for the rest of their lives…

Why people keep messing with me?

I cried in the shower a few weeks ago just overwhelmed a bit. Felt a bit lonely. Wanted to be in a relationship. Sad that dudes keep breaking my heart. Sad I keep falling for the same okie doke and doing things I know will have an unfavorable outcome. Sad my family has not always made living away easy. All I have been trying to do is get ahead and the main stressor has sometimes been them. I love them though, and I know God is teaching me something from it all.

I want to stop complaining.

I also ran into 4 other people I knew in one day from grade school. One even from elementary school. One of which was my high school English teacher. It was in her class from one of her prompts that I put on paper for the first time the struggles I had with my mother and how I struggled with not feeling seen sometimes since we have different phenotypes. I needed a strong Black woman in the household reminding my of how beautiful my hair was and how beautiful it was to be a Black woman specifically, and I don’t think I was quite getting that. Anyway, I remained her she was like royalty to me and I thanked her for everything she taught me. Yall have her to thank partially for this blog since she honed my skill for and love of writing.

I’ve been thinking…I hope ya’ll know I know that I’m not a perfect Christian and that I want to represent Jesus better. I have to get better at that…

I didn’t finish all that I wanted to for work, but I’m dedicating myself to get back on track. Year ain’t over yet…

Yall be blessed…



[retiredteabag]

Dog-sitter!Toji - chapter 2

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synopsis: Toji takes up dog-sitting for you and learns to appreciate his new job, in more ways than one.

Time came and went with Toji’s frequent dog sitting. Despite the workhorse owner seemingly never being home, the dog appeared well cared for and happy.  The place became a second home for the man. On one particular 8:00 o’clock morning as he trailed in the door he found a long note left for him… and a hundred dollars.

“Mr. Fushiguro, we will be getting lots of rain this week, I can’t ask you to walk the dog like you usually would - but if it’s not too much trouble, please just take him outside and let him go to the bathroom. I’ve got a raincoat in the closet by the garage, a towel for the dog, and umbrellas by the door, please utilize whatever. There are towels for you in the guest bath, I will do the laundry when I get home, please just toss them on the floor.” – y/n  

Needless to say, Toji had never seen a dog so thrilled to be out in the rain. A scoff shook Toji when he found the raincoat. There was no universe where it would've fit him. The dog bounded to the door and sat patiently for Toji to open the umbrella for their journey.

It had been painfully humid that day, the rain was torrential, and he was drenched, even with the umbrella. He normally wouldn’t use someone else's shower and he rarely ever did in his previous line of work either.

Back then he learned that using his client's utilities gave them the strange impression that they were more than a couple bucks to him.

Toji liked to avoid messes like that and preferred his own (much smaller) shower anyway.

Even so, when the dog and he made it back, the pristine floors and counters stuck out more than ever. He would have to be at the house for a while that day, he figured he should probably clean himself up.

If it weren’t for the loving pooch, the place would look unlived in. It was strange to think that before Toji got there and after he left anyone occupied the space at all.

The shower had been better than any one he’d ever remembered having. He tossed the towels in the wash and waited around. Toji was making more and more, working back-to-back days and he had learned to expect the polite apology text around noon,

| I’m so sorry, I won't be making it back tonight, can you stay till 10?

Toji always responded by liking the message. He and the owners text logs looked like a line of grey text with numerous “thumbs up” reactions.  

--

Eventually, the day came when he did not have a note waiting for him on the counter. This was also the first day where there was any sign of life in the house: a mess. The dog had been anxiously circling Toji when he arrived. Tissues on the counter, trash not taken out, fridge empty, and what really stuck out to him, no money.

Toji couldn’t care less about the style in which the owner lived, but if he was promised pay, he expected pay. No matter how generous the owner had been in the past. He knew it had been an honest mistake when he texted for the first time in weeks.

| Hey. Dog looks good. Were you planning on going to the bank this morning?

It took a while for him to get a response but when he finally did, they came in quick succession.

| Oh my gosh

| Mr. Fushiguro, I am so sorry!!

| I promise it wasn’t intentional, I’ll be back early tonight, don’t worry about feeding him dinner, I’ll Zelle you for today and tomorrow.

He hadn’t been upset or anything. The owner had been more than lavish with their money, in fact, Toji had never been so flush with cash from so little labor. That thought was what caused him to respond with a simple,

| No worries.

Toji arrived the next morning and for the first time, he was met with…. Nothing?

Usually, the dog was quick with his futile tackle attempts. Not today I guess, Toji thought.

Toji called for the dog and he came running; just not in the way it usually did. Toji noticed immediately, the whining, the huffing, the wiggling, and the ever-constant pushing at his thigh.

“What? What is it, boy?” Toji asks.

The dog let out a particularly loud cry and ran back to the master bedroom. Toji looked around the kitchen, the first room from the foyer he entered.

No note to be found on the counter. But what he did find was a half-empty glass of water, a ramekin with a cocktail of pills, and an iPhone with a silent alarm on the lock screen. The alarm was set for 5:42.

It was 8:17.

The frantic dog rushed back to find Toji at the kitchen counter with the phone in his hand. Whimpering, he nudged Toji with his face. It didn’t take long for the dog to practically drag Toji by the pantleg to the master bedroom.

“What? What?” Toji was looking around the room to see what had the big guy so agitated. It would be a lie to say Toji hadn’t done his fair share of snooping in his time around the house. He'd wanted to see how the lavish owner lived.

It is also fair to say that he had never seen the bedroom look so…disrupted. Toji came around to circle the structured bed frame where a potentially human-sized lump lay under a pile that consisted of sheets, a blanket, and an exceptionally fluffy duvet.

“Excuse me?” Toji knocked his knuckles on the dresser by the bed. Still not totally sure if there was life under all the pillows. “Excuse me.” He said, firmer. Toji raised his eyebrows when a long…noise… escaped painfully from the frump on the bed.

“Hello? You paid me for today, you know?” He continued.

There was a shaky stretch he could see from under the fluff. Then, as though burned with a branding iron, the shape jolted up. Toji was struck by the view of the women before him. Screaming in shock.

The dog began to whine again between Toji and the woman on the bed. You were making loud, unintelligible exclamations. The dog was licking at his paw.

“H-hello???!” You were nothing like what Toji was expecting. But then again, he wasn’t sure what he had expected from the ghost that was the owner of this place.

He called your name with a polite title, easing out, "You paid me to come today...”

Toji had taken a step back, he was well aware that he was a frightening presence, especially for the seemingly young and unarmed woman sitting up in her bed at that moment.

“Mr. Fushi-“ a cough “-guro?!” your eyes stretched comically wide, and made to jump out of bed, but then you saw how close Toji was, and thought again, “I-I didn’t!” Your hands fly to your head, “Oh God….”

Toji stepped back a ways, he wasn’t sure what he should do or say. The women before him seemed… unwell, to say the least. Weak, for sure, cold too maybe.

“But it’s….” You began.

“It’s Friday, you paid me last night for yesterday and today, I can leave if you’d like, but I ain’t got the cash on me…”  

“No, no, no!” Finally, you stumbled from your bed, seemingly no longer frightened by Toji’s looming form, you seemed flushed, and damp? Definitely unwell. “I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen, I swear I set an alarm…”

Your hands find your head as you spin around and almost slam directly into Toji's chest. Shrieking, you pulled back and stumbled on your own footing. In the same breath, Toji grabs you by the shoulder and rights your center of gravity.

Hot. He thinks. She was irregularly warm. He let go and stepped back.

There was once a time when a touch like that would mean nothing, but now, he feels unsure if it was the right move. This woman was nothing like his previous clients and he knew he needed to tread lightly.

“I’m so sorry! But… My phone…” Your eyes survey the desk by the bed. A thermometer sat idly by the lamp.

“I’ve got it here.” Toji waved the device before your eyes, “You left it on the counter back there.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen.

The meek women seemed to no longer fear Toji at all, snatching her phone quickly and moaning loudly. “Oh God!”

You shuffle on your feet, unsure of which direction to turn, then finally decide to turn to Toji where he stands staring.

“I- cannot. Apologize. Enough. Please, you stay here, I need to go, I am so late. I- Thank you, for taking care of my boy.” You were huffing.

Stress welled in your form but you squeezed the sides of your temples and rushed to slip shoes on.

“Excuse me?” Toji felt uncomfortable and out of place in this woman's presence but she was insane if she thought she could work in this condition. Not only due to her clear illness, but also, she was currently wearing a professional pair of flats, green and black oversized plaid pajama pants, and a thick black crewneck. “You… can’t work like this.” He made a face.

You look down at yourself. “Oh, I’m-I’m so embarrassed- and I’m sorry. I have extra clothes in the office, I can change there… I can’t believe this happened.” Your hoarse voice had scratched and faded significantly from the screaming you had done moments before. “Thank you, for waking me, and staying with the dog.”

“Erm…No, I mean, you can’t work…like this-” Toji’s hand motioned to rake over your appearance. As if to say, Hello? You are not presentable. “-you're sick.”

“I’m-no! I’m on the recovery side. I’ll be okay.” You state, wobbling on those same, “recovering” feet.

“I don’t think so.” Toji raised a brow. He wasn’t trying to be pushy but it was laughable to think someone in your condition was anything but grossly ill. “I think you should call out.”

Your eyes jump at the thought. “I can’t, I’m sorry that this happened, I’ll be sure it won't again. I can't believe-ugh!”

Your exasperation was clear, and no, you were not recovering. You had come home last night beyond exhausted. You had left that morning knowing you were sick. You had left work early, (by 5:30) in hopes that sleep would help your body. But the exhaustion had overtaken you.

You can recall taking medicine, placing some out for this morning, and then…. Flopping into bed.

Damn it. This was your fault. And after all the work you had done. The panic had settled into disappointment. And the large man that was supposedly your very attentive and efficient dog sitter was still in your bedroom. Staring at you. In your pajamas. Nice.

“Ya' can't work like that. How about I walk the dog, you take the drugs you’ve got in that little cup and go back to bed.” He pauses and. Blood rushes to your face. He gives you a once over, “Maybe wash up.”

You were gonna kill yourself.

There were a million “no!” arguments that came to your mind but they were so jumbled in your fuzzy conscious. Another reason for your self-induced frustration. The man was already walking out of your bedroom, your big dog in toe. Your boy!? The dog who hated everyone (especially men) but you?? He was leaving YOU for HIM? A man?? That was it.

You waddle back to your bed, flop face-first into your pillow, and wail. No tears come but the embarrassment and anger fill you so fully that you need it out of your system in some way.

Checking your (nearly dead) phone you find that it is almost nine, you weren’t THAT late, this could still work. But at the realization that you wouldn’t arrive until almost ten, and the sweat pricking at your neck, all the motivation to make it flooded from your bones.

You work from home on the weekend anyway, if you went in today you would likely just humiliate yourself more that you already have.

You resigned yourself to the bathroom after taking some medicine, desperate to get yourself clean before the dog sitter returned.

--

Toji decided to take a slower pace on their morning walk. He had an odd feeling in his stomach. All he could think was that was that this dog's mom was not what he had expected.

It had become a game for Toji- to guess what the homeowner was like. A decrepit golfer with time for nobody but himself? An old, entitled maid, desperate to appear young? A middle-aged guy like himself, too busy trading stocks to feed his own pet?

Yet today proved that all of his ideas were wrong... you were younger than he had envisioned. You had big, full eyes and you had smiled so shyly while thanking him.

He hadn't meant to embarrass you but your face when he told you you were unpresentable just made him laugh. Your eyebrows knitting together, and your (already heated) facade seemed to rush with more blood. Your downcast gaze had lifted to show a pathetically self-deprecating smile. Toji chuckled despite himself.

You had seemed small. But in the moment he had spoken to you, you had shrunk even more. No. Not what he was expecting in the slightest.

And despite himself and his greed. He couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be needed here for a little while.

It seemed to him that you could use some time at home.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

[blackfairy312]

Do any of them have allergies? And what’s the most expensive thing each of them own?(fnac 3)

🔥ivlove answering these when im on my medication this is grreat . also im live on instagram while i answer these now ( @ blackfairy.312 )

ikd why but i kinda wanna give Richard a peanut allerbgy. idk why i want him to have a peanut allergy , idk id think it w3ould be kinda funny maybe?

Komi doesn have any allergies lol

Vinnie has asthma (yes the puppet.)

Vincent has a allergy to some kinds of perfume, a skin allergy specifically. idk i'll do something with this later mwehehahahaha 😈

Antonio has a dog allergt which he's not very happy about since he's always wanted a dog. mayve i'll do more with that in the future since his childhood is obviously gonna be some form of reflection for my own. or seomthing idk man

most expensive thing they all own? for Vincent its probably the ugly fucking man sized puppet. because theres no way he just bough that from someone else . he probably HAND CRAFTED that thing and THATYS WHY he doesnt want people touching Vinnie . and like i dont know why if he possibly found Vinnie at like, a thfit store or a garage sale or something, WHY he would look at that fucking thing and think "wow! i should use this for childrens entertaintment!" and think thars a sane thing to do, because what the adtual fuck is that thing? i use tbe scared of Slappy form Goosebumps as a child and i had like weird nightmares about him FROM JUST READING RHE SLAPPY BOOKS. and i dont get how you know what? yeah that Puppet. fuck that stupuf puppet i hate him . (hes my favoriute non human chracter next to Blank)

For Komi, since i mentioned earlier that she has like souvenirs of places shes been she probably owns a lot of expensive things but think of her lke Zhongli from Genshin bc this bitch has no sense of 'Money' because like, she doesnt need to pay taxes she doesnt need to pay parking tickets she cant even legally drive because she likes to break traffic laws because the two most boring things to her are Paperwork and Long Car Rides. like dawh i dont know what would be the MOST expensive thing Komi own BUT ueah its not like she even fucking cares lol

Antonios most expensive thing would problably be like, some fuckijng poker idk man ive been sitting here rambling for three hours about shit so like idk man.

and for Richard idk maybe like his car idk i still hvae no idea what to do with the Richard because i hate him? idk he pisses me a little

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Games

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

This morning, after Finnegan left, I finally got around to going through my mail from last week.

Most of it was crap, of course but one letter surprised me so much that I sat down before opening it.

I didn't expect to hear back, I just submitted a few photos on a whim while Finnegan was in Michigan.

I'd thought that having something to look forward was good even though I knew I didn't have a chance.

But now I'm holding a letter from the Maryland Arts Council.

Every fall they offer a class and then do a huge photography exhibition that gets seen by important people.

People who launch careers.

People who make money for people like me.

I guess they could be nice and respond to all the applicants.

That's probably it.

Until I open it I don't know if I've been accepted or not.

It's like that dead cat in a box.

I might have gotten in.

Once I read it, I'll know I didn't.

Not that I expected to, I've never been able to devote the time and energy into it that I want to.

Some people don't have jobs and bills to pay and have parents to buy them great cameras and all the lenses they want.

I have to make do.

This class, shit, I can't go even if I want to.

Job. See? So it doesn't matter, I'll just open it.

I rip it open and then pull the letter out gingerly.

It's folded in three and I slowly flatten it out on the table.

Dear Mr. Emmett Locke.

Shit... SHIT... Holy shit I'm in.

Damn.

I'm floored, honestly and damn proud of myself.

I can't accept... I'm not free from 9 to 5 for two weeks in September and October but that's okay, just knowing I got in is enough to get me excited about working on my pictures from the beach.

Unfortunately I have to work so the pictures will wait until Thursday when I'm off.

I head to the garage and let me tell you, Peter is glad I'm back if the sign, chocolate bar and little note saying 'better you than me today' is any indication.

We have cars in both bays and two parked out front, they got a little backed up last week so I spend the day doing two sets of brakes and some transmission work.

When I get home Wednesday evening, Finnegan is gaming.

His tongue is out and he's laser focused.

He's at least taken time to get out of the monkey suit and get himself a drink but he doesn't even look at me when I walk in.

"Hey darling."

No answer. Okay?

I go get cleaned up and out of my dirty clothes and then start on dinner.

Once the pasta is cooking I sit down next to him.

I didn't see much of him Monday or Tuesday, so much for not needing to be in the office, so I'm glad he's home for dinner tonight.

"Short day for you. I'm glad. Dinner in about ten minutes."

"Not hungry, wanna play."

Okay, I've been patient.

"Did you have dinner, Finn?"

Because if so, when I got home would have been the time to tell me.

"Nope."

"Then you'll eat when it's ready."

"No."

He's never been this bratty before.

I wonder if something happened at work today or if this is just from having no little time Monday and Tuesday.

Maybe he's in withdrawal after last week.

I snake my hand down behind him and press against his hole right through his undies.

"You'll do what I say, Finn."

He's still trying to play but I lean over and nibble on his neck.

"Emmett."

"For being a brat you can come set the table."

I know this game autosaves so I grab the remote and turn the TV off.

"No, Emmett. That's mean."

"Ignoring me when I got home was mean, Finn. Telling me you won't eat the dinner I made is mean. I think you desperately need a lesson in how to treat me."

He's not mad now, he's smiling.

"I like lessons."

He follows me into the kitchen and grabs the salad, taking it to the table.

Before long we're eating, I just had to drain and sauce the pasta and he is shoving food into his mouth.

Not three minutes later he hops up, drops his plate in the sink, mumbles a thank you and disappears back into the living room.

Nope, not happening.

I finish eating and when I head out he's playing the game again, of course.

He hasn't even sat down, he's right up against the coffee table as if it'll help him play better.

I haven't done that since I first started watching porn.

I decide that if he's going to play... I'm going to play with him.

I grab the lube and then yank him down onto my lap.

"A good little boy doesn't treat his master like this, Finn. Now you're going to make it up to me."

"No, Emmett. I'm playing. Gonna beat the boss."

"I'm the boss, babe but you can keep playing. In fact, I insist."

I grind my cock against his ass while palming him.

He squirms, pressing against my hand.

"It's hard, Em."

"Lots of things are hard."

Our cocks, playing while being messed with, life.

"Lift up."

I manage to wiggle his undies down and then I perch him on my knees so I can really play with him.

I decide to hold him by the balls and start opening him up with one finger.

His thighs are flexing and he's clenching around me but managing to play, somehow.

I wonder how long he can do it.

Eventually I have two fingers massaging his spot while I slowly jerk him off.

He finally tries to put the controller down.

"Feels so good, Emmett."

"Uh uh but you keep playing. Your game is more important than me, so you just keep going."

"Is not, I'm sorry."

He tries to turn around but I hold him in place.

"Not yet you're not. Keep going."

He picks it back up and I tease and mess with him for another twenty minutes.

There's a rivulet of sweat going down his back and I've lost track of how many times he's died.

"Please? Please Em. I need you."

"I thought you wanted to beat the boss and you haven't yet, have you?"

"Can't concentrate Em. need lovies."

"Is that so?"

I love playing with him but I only have so much self-control.

I nudge him forward and he ends up on his knees, chest resting on the coffee table.

"Keep playing, Finn."

"No, want lovies. Please Em."

Well, if his hands aren't busy holding a controller.

"Show me... hold that little ass open for me."

Damn that's sexy as hell.

I really like his hands back here and he does have a sweet, sweet hole.

"You've been a very naughty boy, Finn."

"I know, I'm sorry Em. Will you hurt me?"

He's begging for it, he wants it rough.

Fine.

"You deserve it. You shouldn't ignore your master because when you do, you'll get in trouble and you, little boy.... are in big trouble."

Time to make him scream.

[carnellousthecat]

I think Toy Story is about fatherhood.

I've been moving out of my childhood home, donating or giving away a lot of toys, and I've been thinking about Toy Story a lot and I think I've cracked it. Toy Story is about fatherhood and family, the toys are Andy's family.

Woody himself is the dad. We never see a father in any of the movies, but peculiarly his absense is never felt. That is because Woody fills that role. He's a cowboy, a typical symbol of old style masculinity. Older men, especially back when the first movie was made, might enjoy cowboy movies still from their childhood or their own parents. We open to the song "you've got a friend in me," during which we see Andy playing with Woody. He does things like sitting and playing on an armchair too big for him along with Woody, as a child might sit on a father's lap. Ergo, Woodie = Dad.

But what happens when another dad comes into the picture? The arrival of Buzz Lightyear is a portent of doom for the old fashioned cowboy. Andy is HIS child, Andy loves HIM, not this new fangled space toy. This perhaps represents how a new father figure has arrived into the picture. Buzz is the perfect toy for Andy, he outdoes Woody in almost every way. He's clearly expensive, battery operated, all the other kids want and love him, and he's a space ranger, essentially a version of a cowboy that appeals much better to a modern audience than an old fashioned one would. Woody feels thoroughly threatened by this. He feels Buzz is an enemy stealing away time and love from his son Andy, and tries to get rid of him, in the process stranding them both away from the kid.

It is only after having both been gone from the child's life does Woody realize that Andy needs both of his father figures. Andy is devastated that he lost botth his most favorite toys, he doesn't mourn one over the other. The final shot of the film is Andy holding both of his toys tight, ecstatic that both of them have returned to him, giving them equal love. Woody had been imagining things. Andy always loved and needed them both.

This of course represents these two father figures putting aside their differences to co-parent their child.

Next we have the second film. In it the central theme is a father losing out of his child's love due to his flaws, and how it takes a village to raise any child.

The film opens on Andy playing with his toys, until something happens and Woody breaks. A tear on his shoulder exposes some cotton. After meeting wheezy, a penguin toy who lost his squeaker, he sees a portend of his future. Broken toys are not played with, they are forgotten and thrown away. This shakes him to his core. Now that Woody is broken, how could Andy want him anymore? A stress dream puts this plainly to us, showing Woody's perspective as Andy loses interest on him and drops him into a garbage can. True nightmare fuel.

A garage sale occurs wile Andy is away on a trip, and a toy is mistankenly taken to the yard for sale. Woody springs into action and attempts to save the toy, and ends up being stolen himself by a toy collector himself.

The toy collector himself, Al, is an adult who believes toys are most valuable as collector's items, not when given to children. He owns a toy store chain not because he loves children, but because he believes toys are intrinsically precious when they become rare enough and expensive vintage commodities. Al pays an inordinate amount of money for a toy repair man who gives Woody what will assuage his fears by repairing his ripped arm, along with other improvements like a fresh coat of paint. This however means that he's no longer the toy that Andy loved, symbolized by the brush covering up Woody's boot.

Woody has made an unfounded assumption about the quality of his parentage. His body suffered a fault, which may be symbolic of both a character flaw and/or a physical one that makes him believe he is no longer fit for parentage, and his son will see this and abandon him. Expecting this result, he goes looking prematurely for other ways of feeling valuable as a person besides being a dad, or at the very least one finds him.

He finds others like him, a found family of sorts. All are cowboys just like him, and all are no longer loved by their children. In Jessie, Woody finds what it looks like when his fears are realized. Jessie was abandoned when her daughter lost interest in her, no longer caring to have her mother in her life. They played together as Jessie raised her, but in the end she was given away and forgotten by a daughter that didn't value her and simply left.

Once more Woody is shaken. Parents can lose their value to their children, and the thought terrifies him. He vows to make sure he and his friends remain valued forever, as he is the missing piece in the collection that will allow them to be recognized as a set and purchased by a toy museum, where they can be valued from afar by adults rather than risk raising a child that might abandon them

But Buzz Lightyear knows better. He knows their son, and he knows Andy will never stop loving Woody. He makes his own vow, he will stop at nothing to rescue his friend and bring him home where Andy will love the two of them again. He rallies a whole village of co-parents intent on this mission, and they all risk everything, for their friend of course, but also because they know Andy will be devastated when he comes home and finds Woody is gone. "Andy needs us," they say, and set off on their adventure.

Back in Al's apartment, everything is being prepared to take the toys to the museum. The gang arrives just in time to convince Woody that Andy still loves him and will forever love him, regardless of any flaws he might have. Woody convinces the others that Andy will love them all too, and they all decide to take off together.

This is when the villain of the film is revealed. Stinky Pete, one of the toys in the collection, refuses to trade his chance at being placed in a collection for the sake of one child's happiness. Stinky Pete is an unwanted toy. He is ugly, old, and uninteresting to children. Without the others to complete the set, he feels zero confidence in his own intrinsic battle, traumatized by being left on the shelf while all the other toys are taken. This is Woody's shadow, a dark reflection of who Woody might have become had Buzz not shown up to change his mind. Woody would have lost all faith in his own value as a father and never attempted to raise a child again.

Syinky Pete closes and screws in the gate to prevent the others from escaping, so when Al appears to fetch them immediately after they have no choice but to be stored for the journey, sealing their fate. Hijinks ensue, and the gang rescues Woody and the others and brings them home. Andy is ecstatic when he sees his toys again, and immediately welcomes these new parental figures into his life, proving to Woody that his value as a father has not been lost. Andy repairs Woody's newly broken arm himself.

I won't spend too long on the third film because it's more centered on a political argument, but the themes of parentage persist. Andy is going off to college now, every parent's worst nightmare. The toys are left behind, and are eventually given to a child care center. Perhaps this represents them giving up on parenting any individual child, as they believe their own is lost to them, and they take a job working with children instead to fill the void left by Andy.

However this does not prove fruitful. They are not valued in this way, and so eventually end up at a landfill. They are saved at the last minute, and discover that Andy changed his mind. He's returned from college and finds he still loves his parents, it's only that he's grown old enough that he doesn't need them anymore. Still wanting his parents to be valued, however, Andy gifs his entire collection to a tiny baby child brand new to this world, who is in need of new toys of her own. Andy has reminded that parents are always needed, even if no longer by himself specifically, and after teaching them this they gain the confidence to parent once more with a new child.

I haven't seen the fourth one. I hear it's about not needing to be a parent as the only meaning and value you can find for yourself. Idk, look it up

[the-worst-gryffindor]

Actually, I think if I saw Aphrodite, I don’t think I would see her as any celebrity or something. I think I’d see her as some of my friends over the years. My friend from early childhood that ended up being popular and we grew apart. My friend from middle school that I always thought was too cool to be friends with someone like me. My friend that was a junior when I was a freshman that I absolutely idolized in an unhealthy way. My friend from right after high school that always talked down on me and made snarky comments about my looks and my skills and my personality, but who also made me laugh more than anyone back then.

But, and I don’t know if this is even possible, but I think she would shift through all of those, like she shifted through them for Percy, before settling into a semblance of… me. Because the person I am now can recognize all of those friendships, all the joy they brought me, and I can look at them now as good times then (and good times still in the case of those I’m still friends with), but ultimately, I have been through so much and what is more beautiful than something that the entire world seems to be trying to destroy yet it perseveres. Against everything. After all I have been through, increasingly traumatizing events, I am still going, day after day, even when I don’t want to.

This post started out as a Percy Jackson post, and has turned into me waxing poetic about my trauma, but quite frankly, I think I needed it, so TRIGGER WARNING for the rest of the post for loss of pet, grandparent, loved one, and mentions of suicide.

I’m currently rereading The Hunger Games series, and it’s transporting me back to sixth grade, and the day I got off the bus, and found my dog in the garage. She was old and it was her time, but that didn’t make it any less painful for eleven year old me to sit with her while she died.

Every time I hear the a certain name, it takes me back to being a sophomore, and desperately trying to talk someone I had only known for a couple months, and only online, out of suicide. Trying to get in contact with her the next day to discover that I failed. More than that, that I was the last person she spoke to.

Seventeen years old, and my senior year was cut short to COVID. The week after school ended, my grandma passed away. It was her time, we all knew that, she was 98. But she was the matriarch of the family. We were all shattered. Myself included. But I felt the need to be strong for my family. So I didn’t let myself cry in front of them. So they knew they had me to support them if they needed it.

At twenty, I got my first boyfriend. I had fallen in love with him at seventeen, but life is complicated, and we didn’t get together for another two and a half years. We didn’t work out and I last spoke to him in August of this year. At the end of October, he lost control of his car. And at twenty one, I lost the only person I’ve ever been in love with. He was in a car I drove him to buy, loaned him money to help pay for, and encouraged him to get it. I still loved him. I assumed we would end up together because we always came back to each other.

My brother told me I’ll be okay because I’m strong. And usually that would mean something. But right now I am just so tired of being strong. Why do I have to be strong over and over and over? Why do I have to keep going and moving on when I feel like a cobweb: built to last through frost, through wind, through rain, and through storms? I just want to be happy and lead a happy life. And yet… and yet. I am out through hardship after hardship. And for what?

Anyways, I started this thinking I was going to talk about how I would see Aphrodite as past friends that a small part of me was always jealous of, and then it got away from me. And I wouldn’t usually post something so… personal, but I can’t bring myself to delete it, so it’s getting posted, sorry to whomever has read this.

[mirrorball-leclerc]

i did something bad - bonus part

masterlist

A PREVIEW INTO SEASON 6

EPISODE 7 - THE END OF THE ROAD

sergio sits in front of the camera, he looks happy and relieved. the interviewer behind the camera speaks up, "do you want to talk about it?"

"what is there to talk about?" sergio questions, "i think i am at a point in my life where i should enjoy any and all the time i have with my family. this was not an easy decision to make, for anyone, but i am very grateful for all i achieved in formula one."

"do you have any regrets?"

"none. i do wish i could've won a championship or two but i have no regrets."

"and do you know who is set to replace you?"

sergio smirks, "i do. i helped pick him."

the scene shifts to the drivers as they all react to sergio's announcement during the driver's parade. each of them looks shocked, except for max, that one was a given, he was sergio's teammate he would be one of the first to know. however, if you were to pay attention you would notice charles leclerc, alex albon, yuki tsunoda, daniel ricciardo, and pierre gasly don't look surprised. they look strangely calm about the entire situation. charles exchanges a look with max, nodding at him before charles pays attention to whatever lando is telling him.

once again the scene shifts, charles leclerc stands at ferrari's motorhome arguing with his team principal. fred vasseur looks frustrated as charles looks angry.

"i do not understand what the problem is?" charles questions.

"you're signed with us until 2024, you can't leave before then," fred answers. charles spots the camera, he walks inside the motorhome, fred following after him. they seem to forget their mics are still on, or so we think, and continue arguing.

"they're buying my contract out. i can't stay at a team where i'm constantly treated like a second driver. i’m your first driver fred, why am i constantly getting treated like second? is this because of the money carlos provides? is that it?”

“charles, strategy had called-”

“strategy? what fucking strategy? was it strategy that called for my race to be sacrificed in singapore? for my disqualification today? explain it to me so i can understand fred.”

“charles you won’t understand it even if i explained it in french.”

charles scoffed, “i’m taking the deal with red bull, and you can’t stop me. i wish you the best fred, but i will no longer be a team player if carlos isn’t forced to. i make my own calls for the rest of the season.”

charles was then seen storming out of the ferrari garage, ignoring the camera, ripping the microphone off of him and handing it to someone, not before turning it off. he had known his mic was on, he had planned it all. the camera crew quickly lose sight of him. what they don't catch is charles sneaking into red bull hospitality, marching straight to christian horner's office. he's fuming, "where do i sign?"

——

will buxton appears on camera, "i mean, this is one of those moments when everyone fell silent. i don't think we ever expected charles to leave ferrari, much less for red bull. but it's something he deserves, charles has always been world champion material. he just- it hasn't been his fault he hasn't achieved that."

"the fan support for him was unbelievable," the interviewer comments.

"charles has always been a very loved driver. he has a charming personality that draws people to him. people had been campaigning for him to leave long before this announcement was even made. i mean this is a driver who's given his heart and soul to a team only to have them stomp on it repeatedly."

"do you think this was the right move for him?"

"oh yeah, charles leclerc will win a world championship within the next two years, mark my words."

——

christian horner sits calmly in front of the camera. he looks very calm for a man that just broke f1 twitter twice in a row in a moment mere hours.

"you made quite the announcements today," the interviewer mentions.

"i did, didn't i?"

"do you want to talk about it?"

"isn't that the whole point of this?"

"it is, but the question is, do you want to talk about it?"

"checo came to me at the beginning of the season, he told me it would be his last. so we had to scramble to find a driver who could match max's style, only one name came to mind, charles leclerc. we knew it would be difficult to take him from ferrari, especially when he bleeds ferrari red, he is essere ferrari. so, i'll admit, we pulled a few dirty tricks."

"what does that mean?"

"it means we recruited his friends to help him see the light, especially after monza. we asked seb to talk to him, he didn't want to, he waited for charles to come to him. my daughter, who's been friends with him, tried, many times, but she failed too. max tried and he failed. alex and pierre had also tried, but they ultimately failed. so we sent daniel, they talked for hours and it broke something in charles, he began to contemplate the move. and that's when suzuka happened, that's when he spoke to seb, that's when all the doubts started. but austin, austin was his breaking point, we didn't need to do anything, he came to us."

"do you believe in him to become a world champion with red bull?"

"of course i fucking do. what kind of shit question is that? he's charles leclerc. he won monza his rookie year with two mercedes on his ass at their prime. he won spa after the death of his friend. he's one of the few who has been able to compete with max in lesser machinery. we wouldn't have picked him to be max's teammate if we didn't believe in him."

——

charles sits in front of the camera, “was it a difficult choice to make?” they ask him.

“yes,” charles quickly said, “i had a dream as a child, and that was to become a world champion with ferrari. a choice like this does not come easy, to leave everything i helped make at ferrari behind, to leave behind that part of me. i will always love ferrari and i always appreciate everything they did for me. but i think every chapter has an ending, my chapter with ferrari is over."

"will you ever go back?"

"the urge to win a championship with ferrari is still there. everyone said it was my destiny to win with them. so, if someday it is in my destiny to go back and win with ferrari i will gladly do it. if ferrari is able to meet the demands i had made back in 2022, i will go back and give them a championship."

"what convinced you to leave? what was your breaking point, if we can know?"

charles sighs, "where do i even begin?" he took a deep breath, "i was at home, before suzuka and i saw a helmet on one of my shelves, it was from seb. where he told me not to waste my talent. it opened my eyes a bit and then singapore happened. hearing george say they were going to sacrifice my race for carlos was heartbreaking. i saw seb at suzuka and we talked for hours, slowly i was starting to see reason. qatar wasn't as bad as it could've been but i had made my mind up after austin. austin was my breaking point. not only was i told to sacrifice my position for carlos when i had been on pole but i was also disqualified. i spoke to christian after that day, he welcomed me with open arms and told me i wouldn't regret my choice."

"what will you miss the most about ferrari?"

"the tifosi. they are the most passionate fans and even when i'd had a horrible race they tried their best to encourage me. they always told me it would get better, even when it didn't. monza 2019, will always be special to me because of them. they are what made the job bearable even when it didn't feel like it."

A PREVIEW INTO SEASON 7

EPISODE 4 - DESTINY FULFILLED

there is a buzz that fills the streets of monaco. everyone is excited to see charles leclerc win the monaco grand prix. they have no doubt that the monegasque will win this weekend. a huge part of the crowd is decked out in ferrari red leclerc merch or red bull blue leclerc merch. charles walks into the paddock, his race engineer, teagan horner, to his left, and his family, pascale, lorenzo, and arthur, to his right. the five are talking between them as charles explains something to lorenzo. he spots the camera and waves at it, giving them a bright smile, it's easy to understand then why the people of monaco call him the people's prince.

the group of five stops in front of aston martin hospitality as someone walks out. the head of messy dirty blonde curls in unmistakeable, it's sebastian vettel. charles rushes to hug him and he returns it, hugging the others with charles. they drag sebastian with them as they walk towards red bull hospitality, conversation flows between them.

christian horner sits in front of the camera, "home races are always where we feel the most pressure. whether it be austria, the netherlands, mexico, or monaco, the pressure is always there. everyone expects the drivers to win their home race. but for charles, it feels like the pressure is 10x bigger, and now that he's got a car that can win him races everyone knows he will win. it is no longer a matter of if charles will win, it's when he wins."

charles is now in front of the camera, he smiles at them, "how confident are feeling going into this weekend?"

"very confident," charles laughs, "which is something i haven't said in a long time. but i trust teagan, i trust the team, and i trust max. this is the one race that has always meant the most to me. to be able to win my home race is a dream i've always had, and something everyone around has believed i could win."

"you'd be making history if you win. the first monegasque in nearly 100 years."

"when i win," charles corrected, "i'll be making history."

max verstappen sits in front of the camera, "will you be helping charles win his home race?"

max clears his throat, "if charles gets pole position and i end up behind him in second, i'll defend with everything i've got. but simply because he is my friend doesn't mean i'll stop racing against him or give him the win. charles wouldn't appreciate me throwing the race for him to win, he wants to feel like he's earned his win, and he has. to put it simply, i won't give charles the win because it's his home race, he'll have to fight for it, and i know he will. he wants this win more than anything."

——

the final moments of the race are seen, just before charles crosses the finish line. the crowd is heard screaming in absolute joy as they realize what is about to happen. the words that would engrave charles in monaco and f1 history are heard,“charles leclerc can see the checkered flag, he can hear the crowd screaming in joy! after 93 years a monegasque driver wins the monaco grand prix! charles leclerc has made history today!” 

charles is heard screaming over his team radio as he realizes what just happened, teagan's voice is heard congratulating him, “P1! THAT’S P1 CHARLES! YOU DID IT!"

he screams again, the absolute joy in his voice is hard to miss, “YESS!!!”

"congratulations charles," christian's voice says, "well done, amazing drive. you deserve this one after so many left downs in the past."

"thank you. thank you so much," charles thanked.

"don't thank me kid, this was all you."

as his cool down lap comes to an end he parks his car in the parc fermé he can hear the crowd screaming in joy. he stands on the nose of his car, kissing his finger, reaching toward the sky, it's unclear who the win was for but everyone knows it's dedicated to one of the many losses he's suffered. he jumps down from his car, kneeling in front of it, bowing, in a blink or you'll miss it moment the screen flashes quickly to sebastian vettel winning his 4th world championship. if you hadn't know who charles had copied in that moment, you sure did now. despite how rocky their partnership seemed, it was clear charles leclerc would always look up to sebastian vettel.

charles stand quickly rushing into the arms of his team, they welcome him with open arms. they're screaming in absolute happiness for him, one would think he was just crowned world champion. his brothers are among the crowd, they slap his helmet, both proud of what he's just achieved. quickly the scene of his mother crying tears of happiness is shown as geri hugs her, also smiling widely at charles. geri waves at the camera before it pans back to the red bull team.

sebastian is shown, as he smiles at charles, "just couldn't resist could you?" he jokes. charles says something to him before the scene shifts to charles in front of the camera, he's smiling widely.

"congratulations, you're officially a history maker," the interviewer says.

"thank you," charles replied.

"how do you feel? was it everything you expected and more?"

"it's a feeling i didn't know. to be able to win my home race in front of my family and the people i love was amazing. to have my maman and brothers there, to know they were there watching me win was everything i could've ever wanted."

"and to have your girlfriend there, i'm sure that was amazing too?"

"she's the reason i won," charles says honestly, "she told me her plan and i will be honest, i didn't trust it. in the end she made the right call, had i not listened to her, i would've lost the race. there is no one else i trust more than her to make the right calls in my race."

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¡leclerc-s speaks! y’all i tried my best, truly, but it's not my best work. i also don't know how to properly to describe scenes switching in episodes so here's my attempt at this. i am severely sleep deprived because i stayed up until 4am to watch fp2. fingers crossed there's no problems today, so fp3 and quali aren't delayed. i don't think i can deprive myself of more sleep.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy