#anyone who wants to see how I'm doing mid race

[chillicoded]

Lando Norris is NOT an underdog.

This is NOT Lando hate. I don't endorse or tolerate hate towards ANY driver. This is just an opinion.

I had a conversation with somebody on Bumble about the Norris/Verstappen championship battle this season. I was for Verstappen, he was for Norris - no problem whatsoever in itself. After Max's absolute dominance last season, I really can't blame anyone for being bored of Max winning and wanting to see a new driver succeeding. But what Got My Goat is that he said the reason he wants Lando to win the WDC is because "he's an underdog". I sent a (pretty lengthy) message back on why I really don't think Lando qualifies as an underdog, and he never got back to me to defend his position. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he just wasn't on Bumble to debate the nuances of what it means to be an underdog. Either way, I figured the topic would make a good first opinion post because I'm more likely to get a discussion out of it here, plus I have extra thoughts to add.

To me, an underdog is somebody who is disadvantaged because of the external resources available to them, in comparison to those they are competing against. For an F1 driver, that's the car, the team, the strategy, the experience they have in F1, the track (not just condition, but whether or not it suits their car) and momentary bursts of luck, among countless other variables. A good "underdog coming out on top" narrative comes from a person or character (in this case a driver) performing well or succeeding despite lacking the ideal resources to do so.

It's important to note that I don't think skill counts as an external resource. I also think skill is hard to measure. I personally would measure it in terms of results, consistency and versatility, but even within that, I feel like you need to take all of the external factors into account. For example, DNFing or dropping way back because of a collision, bad luck with the car or a botched pit stop would make a dent in a driver's consistency and results, but it doesn't mean they're less skilled.

Underdog narratives do exist in F1. The Alpine double podium in Brazil was a great underdog narrative. The Alpine car is hardly competitive most of the time. At the start of the season it was an absolute tractor. I don't know enough about the team, strategies, pit stops, etc. to comment on those, but regardless, I don't think anyone was expecting a double podium from them this season because Alpine just hasn't been competing at the front of the field. Yet, despite all that, both drivers finished on the podium and scored mad points in easily the most unpredictable race of the season.

Franco Colapinto performing well and scoring points, despite being dumped into Williams mid-season with a firmly midfield car and no experience, is also an underdog narrative. He's far outperformed Logan Sargeant already and has been battling with some of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and coming out on top. I don't think anyone was expecting all this from him when he was first brought into F1. Personally I saw a lot of people saying that they were booting out one underprepared F2 driver, and replacing him with another underprepared F2 driver. I was part of that crowd too. Sorry Franco. I was not familiar with your game.

Even Carlos Sainz's win at Singapore last year could be considered an underdog narrative. Sure, he started on pole and he's an experienced driver, but everyone was an underdog compared to Red Bull (mainly Max) last year, and Ferrari didn't have a great car or great strategies. He did have the luck of Max being practically out of sight, having been outqualified by Liam Lawson in an AlphaTauri (another great underdog moment, by the way), but it still takes skill to keep the lead, and his strategic use of Lando goes to show that even further than just the win itself.

These are just a few recent examples. Think about them. Seriously deep them. Revel in how they make you feel.

Now think about Lando's performance this season.

His first win in Miami was great. At the time, I was still a hardcore Lando supporter and I was absolutely thrilled. A few laps before the end of the race, when it became apparent that he was almost definitely going to win, I was already celebrating for him. It had been a long time coming and it was amazing to see him realising the potential I knew he and McLaren had. He's won twice more this season so far, and both times he was ahead by a country mile at the chequered flag. Aside from that first ever win, though, his other impressive performances this year haven't quite evoked the same emotion as my previous examples. That sense that he's overcoming disadvantages and delivering even when the odds are stacked against him just isn't there for me. Why is that?

There's no denying that he's a skilled driver. Three wins in a season with 7 different race winners (6 of whom have won multiple races) isn't too bad at all. He's also been relatively consistent throughout the year, never finishing a race outside the points. He's even been able to adapt to a range of tracks and weather conditions. For example, he finished P6 after the rain and chaos of Brazil, which threw off even some of the other skilled drivers mentioned above like Sainz and Colapinto.

But we're not here to discuss whether or not he's skilled. We're here to discuss whether or not he's an underdog.

Honestly, did you even read the title?

Anyway. Skill doesn't make someone an underdog. I established that earlier. If skill makes someone an underdog, Max Verstappen is probably the underest dog on the current grid, and that's obviously not the case. We need to look into those external factors I mentioned above: things like car, strategy, luck and experience, in comparison to what other drivers have had to work with this year. The less he has, the more of an underdog it makes him.

First and foremost, McLaren's strategies this year have been pretty abysmal. The terrible calls made in instances like the Hungarian Grand Prix and the lack of calls made in instances like Monza lap one have been enough to make me stop supporting McLaren as a team altogether. They insisted that they weren't prioritising the drivers' championship, but with the constructors' practically secured, I honestly find that hard to believe. If it is true, they've been doing a disservice to both drivers: to Lando by not giving proper attention to his very real championship chances, and to Oscar by ordering him to give up positions for Lando and act as a second driver at certain points, apparently for no real reason. Overall, McLaren's strategies have been in Lando's favour at times, but they've rarely been good. It's hard for me to compare McLaren's strategy calls to other teams, though, simply because I don't know enough about other teams' strategy calls. Maybe all the teams have been equally rubbish with strategy this year, so it technically hasn't been putting Lando at a disadvantage. I wouldn't know. If you have any insight on this, let me know and I might make a second, more definitive post about this.

As for luck, Lando has had bouts of both good luck and bad luck so far this year. He had some good luck in Miami, ultimately facilitating his first win, and he had some hard luck in Austria with his collision with Verstappen and Baku with qualifying. I'm not at all suggesting that Lando didn't deserve his first win (honestly, I don't believe that "deserving" matters in this sport at all), but I don't think he would've won that first race without the luck of the safety car, and I'm not sure he would've performed as well as he has without the confidence boost from that first win. With the car he's had this season (and I'll talk about that next), it would've come eventually, but I really do think that momentary burst of luck has been a really important factor in shaping this season for Lando. It has definitely had more of an effect than his moments of poor luck. I think few other lucky instances have had as much of an effect for a team or driver, except maybe Alpine's performance in Brazil.

His car has been a seriously influential factor, too. Of course, no driver's success is all because of the car; the driver and the car always go hand in hand. A less skilled driver can't properly handle a good car (see Pérez) and even a good driver can rarely drag performance that isn't there out of a tractor (see Bottas at Sauber). But, like his luck, the MCL38 has massively facilitated Lando's ability to perform this year. It's a car that has been capable of winning races by over twenty seconds, creating final laps that are reminiscent of Max's dominance last season. That alone begs the question, why has Lando not been performing consistently at that level? Where exactly does the balance of success lie between Lando and his car?

It's definitely worth taking into consideration that top teams this year have certainly given Lando a lot of competition to deal with this year. Even with a dominant car, with around six other drivers able to put up a fight against Lando, he's not in as dominant a position as Max was last year. But there is a difference in skill in certain areas, and it shows in moments like Lando's first lap bottles from pole compared to Max's perfect starts last year, for example. Lando is just not as polished a driver as some of his competitors, and that is something that naturally comes with more experience.

It's hard to say Lando lacks experience, though. 2024 is his fifth season in F1. He's not always had a great car, but now that he does have one, it's clear to see that he knows how to handle it decently well. Compared to Oscar Piastri, though, it doesn't look like his experience is giving him the competitive edge you'd expect. With four years of experience over his teammate, you'd think Lando would be performing at a much higher level, but that just isn't the case. As a quick example, Oscar's average finishing position this season is 4.9. Lando's is only 0.8 higher at 4.1. With that difference in experience, you'd expect a much higher gap in performance... or at least I would. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Let me know.

Overall, I really don't think Lando is at any kind of serious disadvantage that would make it fair to call him an underdog. He has issues thanks to McLaren's strategic blunders, sure, but the rest of his problems are pretty much skill issues. Call me back with the notion of an "underdog narrative" when Ollie Bearman is in the championship fight in a Haas next year.

[docholligay]

Good luck today! You got this

Thank you! I am extremely nervous, excited, all of those things.

There are TWENTY THOUSAND PEOPLE racing today. I cannot, my brain is short circuiting. That is roughly half the population of Montana's capital city.

I am trying very hard to remind myself that, honestly, i'm the only one who gives a shit. And that has merit! I am proud of myself for being a person who challenges and pushes myself. I don't rest on my laurels, often. But also, realistically, no one in my life is going to be disappointed in me unless I give up. If i stagger over that finish line, and GENUINELY can say that I tried my ABSOLUTE hardest, no one in my life is going to think less of me.

I'm not a fucking Olympian, the pride of the nation is not riding on my ability to run real fast through the strip.

I mean, I will be crushed if I run a personal worst, but I'm trying to not get in my own head and also TRY to let myself enjoy it, and not get so focused on time.

ANYWAY THANK YOU YOUR DOC IS ABOUT TO TRY VERY VERY HARD.

[pia-nor481]

Empty Bed Part Two

Lando Norris x reader smut

3.5k words. Part One

"What's up with you?" Max asked, worried about his friend's pouting. Lando was angry and upset. He knows this is how hook up culture is supposed to be, have sex and leave before anything gets awkward, yet that's not what he wanted. Its sad that he wanted her, even now, weeks after their last encounter. "Nothing serous, just jet lagged." His reply was a bit harsh and also the truth at the same time. It was the penultimate race of the season and the stress was beginning to affect more than usual, he was far too frustrated, not just psychologically but sexually. "If you say so." He felt Max's hand make contact with his shoulder as he walked past, heading to the red bull garage. Lando walked towards his drivers room and put up a rather convincing smile. Free practice wasn't particularly fun for Lando, he liked the thrill of the race, but he couldn't feel that if he was focused on collecting data. He let out a loud sigh as he lent against the closed door, finally alone. It felt good to be in his own presence. 

He pulled the orange shirt over his head to replace it with a black fire proof. "Woah, what animal attacked you?" Daniel laughed out, seeing his friend's shocked face. "You were so happy the morning after, maybe you need to get laid more often." The scratches on Lando's waist were still visible, a reminder for him, a reminder of her. "You're one to talk, that girl in your lap seemed pretty blissed out." He shook his, Lando was shocked that Daniel took the risk of fucking some girl in such a public place. "Well I know how to fuck. By the red on your hip, I can guess you can too." Daniel flashed his signature grin while loosening his suit. "Can I be honest?" Lando paused, looking back at his friend, who's expression changed in the blink of an eye. "Always." Lando let out a relived sigh, he already felt better. "How do you do it? I don't get how you can fuck a girl and move on so quickly, as if nothing happened." Lando looked away mid-sentence, feeling almost ashamed, reaching for the rest of his clothes. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can't just forget, unless I'm that drunk. But still, it's not something you should hold onto, especially if you're not going to see her again." Daniel said sincerely, he was stunned that Lando would say such a thing. "Is it really bothering you that much?" 

Lando had to pause, he didn't know what to do. They didn't have the same level of friendship that Daniel had with Max, or Lando with Carlos. Yet he almost felt bashful at the thought of discussing this with anyone else. "I just... Felt so drawn to her. It doesn't make any sense to me. I was just looking to fuck, but everything about her... It just felt more than that. She joked with me, and it was actually funny, she was so gorgeous too; Perfect even. She didn't even know who I was, yet she was in a F1 afterparty. You know how you can tell if they actually know you or not." He said it all in one breath, and so, was practically gasping for air. "I'm guessing she is good in bed too?" Lando's head shifted to the side in a look of disappointment. "Yes, but that's not the important part." He said, zipping up his race suit. "I get how important this is to you, I do, but you can't dwell on it, you need to focus on racing, thinking about a girl, no matter how perfect,  that you're not going to see again, isn't gonna get you on the podium." Daniel grabbed Lando's shoulders, rather firm, and looked in his eyes as he spoke. "Alright." 

While Lando was in the car he didn't dare think of her, but when he was in his new hotel room, she consumed all of his thoughts. So while he was buttoning up a white shirt, he couldn't help but feel down, he was exhausted, not just from the race. Lando practically dragged his feet along the floor to wards the door, wishing he didn't have to go out and celebrate another podium, he had to celebrate someone else's win. As he begun tying his shoes, he could hear the banging of a fist on the hotel door. "Give me a sec." He shouted back, rushing towards the door. "Hey." It was Daniel at the door, adorning his usual smile. "It's only 10, there is no rush." Lando said, looking down at his watch, before reaching for his phone and room card, and slipping them into his pocket. "I know, but I don't know whether or not I should get plastered with you or let you run off with some girl." Daniel said, hooking his arm around the younger's neck. "Too soon man. What if i went off with another girl, You'd stop me?" Lando said with a bit of bite, shifting his gaze towards the other man. "Well no, I'm just trying to look after you man." Guilt immediately ran through his body, Daniel was trying to be helpful, and was more than likely doing the right thing. "Sorry, I'm just all over the place. This season has been hard, and you know the rest." Daniel patted his back before giving a reply, "We'll sort it out, mate, lets just focus on tonight, we can deal with everything tomorrow." Lando cracked a smile, "While we're hung over?" Their pace quickened as the approached the outside of the club. "Absolutely." 

The loud music and lack of air sent a wave of pleasure through Lando's body, it felt so good to be in such an environment. There was always skin to skin contact, and it just felt so amazing. Lando felt a girl lean back, further into him, he was already a few drinks deep, but he was still capable of making good, enough, decisions. His hands quickly found her hips, but she didn't feel the same. However, that didn't stop him. He wanted to feel this close with someone, and she was more than willing; until her friend called her over. He was left on his own again, Daniel was still in the club, most likely in the bathroom. "I'll be back in a bit mate." He made it seem as though he was stepping out for some fresh air, but Lando quickly noticed him gravitating towards a woman, the same one he saw Daniel with last week. He didn't let that ruin his mood as he struggled to make way to the bar. As soon as he reached the table, the volume of the music seemed to fall slightly, he waited for a while, and in doing so he looked around, observing the people around him. Until he saw her hair, her skin, everything about her, it was hard for him to not recognise. "Can I have a vodka with full fat coke and a rum with diet coke please."

He walked over to her as quick as possible, placing his drink on the bar, and began dancing his fingers over her arm, she didn't even flinch "Found any attractive men to chat up?" She could feel his breath against her ear, he was speaking at a normal volume, knowing she could not hear him over the music otherwise. "I have now." Lando was so ecstatic that she was flirting back. He handed her the drink and she opened her mouth to speak, he noticed the glitter in her lip gloss and made a mental note that it needed to be smudged later. "Rum and diet coke." He sated simply and she smiled before taking a sip. "Thank you." He was shocked she was staying so formal, not formal per say, but you wouldn't expect some one you had a one night stand with to be appreciative of a drink. "What are you doing here, Lando?" As she spoke, his eyes travelled over her whole body, first he noticed the white sunglasses atop her head, then the glitter and blush covering her cheeks. "I could ask you the same thing, baby." She leaned closer to him, almost as if she was longing for his presence. "One of my friends... she really like sports and is watching these races, but she hates travelling alone, so I decided to come with her." It took a while for Lando to acknowledge that her friend was a formula one fan. He was too focused on her body, last time he saw her, she was wearing a white mesh top, this time it was a pink bra, covered in gems and glitter, and it just looked so good on her. "Tell me then, why are you here?" He grabbed her hip, feeling the material of her mesh skirt against his skin, he wanted her as close as possible. "Would you believe me if i said, my friend brought me here so he could go looking for a girl he hooked up with?" It wasn't a lie, but wasn't quite the truth. "Are you sure the name of your friend is not 'Lando'?" She laughed lightly, sipping her drink, hiding behind the glass once again. "I promise, only because his name is Daniel, you could ask him, but I don't think we will be seeing him tonight." She placed the empty glass on the bar and slid her hands up his chest, her touch was electrifying. "I'm sorry, I had to take your clothes, I couldn't leave in what I was wearing." His hands travelled over her back and down under her skirt, squeezing her ass lightly. "It's okay, you can keep it." He pulled her into a desperate and deep kiss. It lasted for what felt like hours. The skin on skin, the music, the alcohol, it all felt euphoric. "Come on, before I fuck you right here."

His hands never left her body, a firm grip around her waist, a reminder almost. Just as they made it out of the club their eyes immediately  met, she was looking at him for a direction. "I've not got my hotel key." He almost whispered out. Lando claimed to have left it behind when Daniel knocked on the door; this also gave them an excuse to go back to her room, he knew she wouldn't disappear like last time. "Come on then." it come out more of a moan than a huff of annoyance. She practically pulled him down the road towards her hotel, to say Lando was shocked by the building was understatement. She kept a tight grip on him as they walked up the stairs, Lando was looking shamelessly up her skirt, not that the sheer fabric was hiding much. As soon as she reached the top step she pulled him into a rough kiss and almost moaned into his mouth, just feeling him riled her up. "Please, Lando." Her words were left in the air as he took the key from her hand and opened the door as quickly as possible "Come here, babe, need you so bad." 

She chased his voice to the bed, she needed him just as much, but couldn't verbalise it. So she decided it would be best to swing herself over his lap and cover his neck in glittery red marks. In the process lando slid his hands up her back slowly, teasing not just her, but himself. She began to suck harder and bite slightly, tugging his skin between her teeth. "Fuck, babe." His breath got caught in his throat at the feeling. Lando didn't expect to her to do such a thing, especially with how he was the last time they were together, he was shocked that she was acting more demanding; so he trailed his hand up to her top, his fingers quickly hooked around the clasp of the bra, he pulled it far from her skin, and smiled at the thud of it back against her skin. She let out a loud whine, not anticipating the feeling. "Behave." She nodded quickly, not expecting to get chastised. Lando placed his hand under her ass and hoisted her up, turning around to gently place her on the edge of the bed, hands slowly and softly running his fingers along the outside of her thigh. She reached up and gripped his collar, pulling him lower. "Don't tease me." 

"Or what?" He replied back in a flirty manner. As she felt his fingers against her underwear she gasped, he pushed her skirt up, not before admiring the pink butterflies on the mesh, he'd waited so long for this so he couldn't waste a minute. Lando grabbed her hips harshly and pulled her body closer to his. "I can stop right here, if you want." He pushed her underwear to the side and lowered his head. "No please, Lando please." She would feel him smirk against her skin as soon as she started speaking. He licked up against her cunt before focusing on her clit; he kitten licked at first, ignoring her pleas, then circling quickly, enjoying the noises she let out. He continued to abuse her clit and lightly teased her slit with one hand, the other pressing down lightly on her abdomen. He was paying more attention to her now, really trying to discover what made her feel good. Although it had only been a few weeks since they were together, Lando couldn't stop thinking about her. He felt guilty, he replayed that night in his head over and over, and he felt awful for not paying enough attention to her. When you hook up with someone you are not really there for the other person's pleasure, Lando wanted do change that. He thrusted his fingers slow, not rushing, he wanted to enjoy this, he wanted her to feel good. As he moved his fingers in a 'come here' motion she pushed her hips closer to him desperately, "Harder?" his eyes didn't leave her for a second, he wouldn't forget this, he couldn't miss the look on her face. "Faster." She barely said, out of breath from moaning so much. As soon as the words left her mouth, he was following the instruction, she was quivering slightly as he hands mad a home in his hair, tugging on it lightly, feeling him groan into her, adding to her pleasure. "Be good." Lando began to suck on her clit lightly, he wanted a reaction and that's what he got. She was practically singing a song for him. The hand that was resting on her abdomen travelled back towards her thigh, slipped under her knee. He lifted her leg up higher, her calf now resting against his back, forcing her thighs further apart, giving him more space. Her voiced echoed throughout the room as he sped up the movement of his tongue and fingers. "That's it babe, cum for me." The wave of pleasure that washed over her took her vision temporarily, white covered her vision as she came. She was on cloud nine and Lando didn't stop his attack. 

When he came up from between her thighs he had a satisfied smile on his face, when they made eye contact the smile turned into a grin of joy. She moved back on the bed slightly, a blissed out look on her face still, Lando very quickly noticed the wet patch on the bed as he got up from his knees and got on the bed; unbuttoning his shirt in the process. He kissed up her abdomen slowly, leaving marks across her whole body, biting down in the manner she did prior. "Don't whine, its only fair." He laughed out, opening her legs once again. She gave him a pointed look, yet he just gave her one back, he wanted to be in control, and he got what he wanted. "Please." Her pleas fell upon deaf ears as he just continued to tease; he ran the tip of his cock up and down her cunt, focusing on her clit more often than not. He enjoyed teasing her, he felt as though he deserved it. Lando squeezed his cock lightly, he needed to feel some form of release, the pressure already building up. She took hold of his arm aggressively with a firm grip, knuckles turning white. He pushed in slow, just like before, not wanting to over stimulate her so soon after one orgasm. "That's it." Her eyes rolled back as soon as he started speaking, yet he couldn't look away, she was just so captivating, he wished he could say such a thing, but he could not, not in a situation like this. He began thrusting slowly and softly, more sensual than before. Lando gradually sped up, knowing it was something she liked, his hands wouldn't leave her body for more than a second, his hands would be dancing on her skin as a form of comfort. "Fuck, please." He liked to hear her beg, it felt like an exclusive sound, he didn't think anyone had fucked her, it was just a feeling, until he realised how quickly he made her cum. Lando pulled her legs around his waist, allowing him to her her deeper, "Oh yes." Lando wasn't quiet, she was just beyond loud, and his just got him impossibly harder. "Good girl, be good for me." Once of his hands left her him to slide down to her clit, rubbing fast circles; she could feel his touch all through out her body, every nerve sending signals felt like an overload. Her orgasm hit her hard, pelvis lifting up higher than Lando had already positioned it. She let out a choked whine as she felt Lando pulsating, all he felt was euphoria when he was with her, but this was on another level. Rope after rope of cum left his cock in pleasure, his head fell into the crook of her neck as he groaned, waves of pleasure still washing over him. 

She winced as he pulled out, pushing her underwear back in place, he grabbed her neck softly, pulling her closer to him, he wanted to kiss her, he didn't want to beg, he still needed control, he didn't want to swallow his pride, her hands slid up his back and into the base of his hair, tugging so she could catch her breath. "Careful." He felt the need to remind her. "Promise." She smiled, smirked is a better adjective for the blissed out look on her face. Lando pulled back the cover of the bed, slipping under it with her, he kissed her neck softly as she slowly began to drift off, he inter locked their hands when he slid his arm over her waist. His eyes began to close as her breathing finally regulated. 

When his eyes opened again, it was because of the morning light slipping through the hotel curtains. Lando's mind was still fuzzy. He tried to sit up but quickly realised his pounding headache was from alcohol, then all memories came running through his mind, then a wave of panic. He turned to the side a quickly as possible, noticing no one was in his arms. She was gone. He ran his hand over the mattress  and noticed it was cold, disappointment flooded his whole body, and so he felt lethargic; Until he realised that they had come back to her hotel room last night, a smile crept up on his face as he sat up. The thought of having a long conversation, with out too much flirting, was his first thought. Until he saw his hoodie, the one she stole the first night together. He assumed she would have been wearing it, or at least taken it home before flying out for this trip, but no, it was folded neatly on the counter in front of the bed. Lando, finally, built up the courage to get out o the bed, and saw that her suitcase was gone, so were her shoes, so was she. 

He was, once again, left in an empty bed. 

Masterlist

There was a lot of struggle in trying to finish this (things not saving and paragraphs randomly deleting because reasons) but I seem to repel technology. If I’ve made any spelling mistakes let me know.

[copperbadge]

I’ve been watching a lot of Olympic surfing since it’s soothing and beautiful sprinkled with moments of mouth-dropping excitement and it got me thinking - would Monday compete for Askazer-Shivadlakia? I could totally see the royal family on a boat screaming at the top of their lungs for her :D

I see you've seen the picture of the king and queen of the Netherlands at the Olympics :D

[ID: A photograph of two people wearing orange hats and sunglasses, looking very much like a mom and dad cheering on their kid; the woman has a floral peasant blouse on, and the man is wearing a ring tee that reads PARIS with a VIP badge around his neck.]

I swore I had made a post about Monday competing in the Olympics but it turns out it was a discussion carried out in comments. :D So allow me to elaborate....

To represent a country in the Olympics you have to be a "national" of said country. Broadly, that's anyone who has significant allegiance to a country. By the time August 2024 rolls around Monday will have been a resident for two years and she has a royal visa plus biological children who are citizens, and her brother-in-law is the elected head of state, so I'm thinking that qualifies. Fons-Askaz is a popular surf spot but it's mostly tourists, so she's not taking a spot from someone who should be representing the country, which is important to her. One reason Monday and Eddie like Shivadh culture so much is that it's very like their own -- sportsmanship is a closely held value.

Now, not to be a killjoy, but would Monday choose to compete in the Olympics? Like a lot of sports, surfing has its own competitions, and does she want to associate with an organization that she must, being her, have serious ethical concerns over? Setting aside that she's competing in Tahiti, and I can't find much coverage about how Tahitians feel about that, olympic host cities regularly do brutal clearances of unhoused and poor people, constantly overspend on elaborate athletic facilities that then rot emptily, and in the case of Paris, create what critics have called a "two tier" system based on how much you can pay. As I predicted, temperatures in the olympic village are regularly hitting the eighties indoors, and those who couldn't afford air conditioning struggle to compete at the level of their wealthier peer countries. An Italian gold-medalist swimmer has taken to sleeping in parks because he can't sleep in his room. Monday can bring her own personal chef to Tahiti with her, but that's because he's her brother. Not to mention the issues surrounding the way wealth improves training and skill, the way genetics play a part, and the appalling record of the IOC on gender and race.

As may be evident, I'm not a fan of the olympics. I don't watch them and haven't for 25 years now. I'm not going to claim the reason is ethical concerns, because I just plain don't give much of a damn about olympic competition and I follow soccer which is as abusive and toxic just in different ways. But it doesn't help that there are so many issues. And yeah, it absolutely is also thrilling and fun, which is why I feel bad talking about this! And for some sports truly it is the only place they get to show or compete (don't get me started on television networks who get to call what is and isn't broadcast, let alone archived) but this is a moral question athletes are going to have to start to grapple with.

And ALL THAT SAID....

Monday knows this will realistically be her last olympics. She will still be competing at the elite level for a few years and will have a long career as a coach if she does well; she might even qualify in 2028, but at that point she'll be in her mid thirties and likely not still in championship form, and will have had time to train Shivadh surfers so they can compete. And Gregory is not only fond of Monday and kind of in agreement about the olympics, but he is very, very loyal to the woman who carried his children.

So she has nothing to lose, really, and competing in the Olympics, especially if she does well, is a fantastic way to bring attention to how fucked up they are.

I doubt I'd ever write it, except maybe as a short story, but if I did it would be about Monday declaring herself an Activist Competitor, putting the olympics on blast every time she's got a mic in her face, and plotting it with the boys ahead of time so that when the press or even the IOC runs to them, they shrug and say, "What do you want us to do about it? We agree with her. If the IOC doesn't like it they know what to do," basically daring them to fix their shit or ban her.

And there is some fun to be had with it too! You've got Georgie becoming an inadvertent icon as Monday's girlfriend, Gregory and Eddie cheering her on while holding the twins, Joan (and possibly Noah, given he'll be on summer break from college) romping around the place with recording equipment. And also fun, Michaelis and Jes agreeing to go to Paris instead because there are other Shivadh competing and they have to represent the side.

Monday didn't even ask the others to join her in activism because she didn't want them to risk their careers at her say-so, but they are Shivadh, after all, and one of their favorite things to do is fuck shit up, so they absolutely would lead an insurrection in Paris, probably wearing shirts that read WE'RE TOO HOT TO SLEEP. Jes absolutely has a shirt reading NB FOR AC.

I think you have to actually commit war crimes to get a country banned from the olympics (and even then, sometimes you get a pass) but I do think it would be funny if the Paris contingent caused so many issues that I could title the story "We Got Banned From The Olympics And All We Got Were These Dumb Gold Medals". Especially if the gold medals aren't even olympic medals, they're medals Gregory had made to reward the Shivadh athletes for their actions. Gold medal in activism for everyone!

[gothicknightz]

3am | ethan landry

notes: aaah!!! i can't believe you guys enjoyed my little ethan post. ironically, i wrote that in the early morning hours with little inspiration. so here's another one. some blood + injuries

part 2!

'you are so dumb for trusting him'

She rolled her eyes as the text from Mindy popped up on her phone's notification wall.

She was on the subway on her way back from a party Chad had dragged her to; it wasn't exactly her scene, but she indulged in it nevertheless, now mildly sober instead of risking it in the streets.

Was it safe to travel alone when there's a masked killer dressed up as Ghostface going around? Possibly. But the killer could be anyone, New York was a big city as it was, and not all the rideshare drivers were the nicest in the Big Apple.

Her phone rang as she leaned up against the stanchion, one hand holding the rail as she answered it, "Mindy if you're here to criticize my choice in men-"

She stopped mid-lecture as a gravelly voice chuckled, "It's not Mindy, (y/n)."

Her eyes widened as she was sober enough to recognize that voice; the one who terrorized her friends a year ago, and the one who was terrorizing them now, herself included.

Her heart slowly started to race as she frantically looked around, wondering if the ghastly killer was on the train with them, "You're the one responsible for those killings, right?"

"So you've been following the news," The was a short yet death-defying pause in between, "Good girl. You do know the rules, right?"

It seemed as the ride back to the Blackmore University station took forever suddenly, because now, she had no interest in staying on the subway any longer than she should.

"I've heard enough of them. Cut to the chase, what do you want from me?"

Her eyes continued to scan the rest of the train car for the killer, but she couldn't find him to her avail.

"What do I want from you," He paused, and as soon as the train came to the stop, she rushed out of there with everyone else. "Is to see the look on your face as I stab you in the heart."

"Oh yeah?" Her voice wavered as she made her way up the stairs, instinctively tightening her backpack and making a run to her boyfriend's dorm. "You're not as brutal as you make your artwork seem."

"Maybe I'm not the monster you think I am."

"I highly doubt it." She spat, before hanging up and making her way up the stairs to Chad and Ethan's dorm.

Unfortunately, for her, Ghostface had been following her, and jumped out of a utility closet down the hall, slightly worrying her that he could have gotten to her boyfriend.

Her scream echoed through the rhetorically quiet hall as the killer's knife sliced her forearm, causing her to stumble backward and fall.

This Ghostface wasn't the one who called, she thought, in a disarray of last-minute thoughts and panics.

Her sobs and wails choked her as the knife made its way to her side, the masked killer repeatedly stabbing her there thrice times before raising the knife to go in for the final blow.

BANG!

A gun was fired which shot Ghostface backward, which Chad had carried with him.

Ethan was right behind him, and his attention turned quickly to her, allowing Ghostface to slip off again as per usual.

"Ethan?" She weakly whispered, attempting to stop her wound from bleeding.

He muttered strings of curses and apologies such as, 'I'm never letting you take the subway home again' as he scooped her up, not caring if blood got all over him.

"He's gone."

(there's definitely gonna part 2 i don't like how this ended)

[whorekneecentral]

hiii <3 hope you’re doing well! sorry for the bad english haha

can i request something smut with lewis where you guys are at a dinner with his family and he’s all frisky and touchy so he like takes you to his childhood bedroom and someone just catches you guys in the act

this made me giggle cause I can just imagine the shock on everyone's face // sorry for the million year wait!

Lewis's dad had invited you two over for diner seeing that it was the summer break. You had been in and out of the house, helping him take sure to the grill while Lewis and his brother caught up on their racing.

You hear your boyfriend tell his brother he's gonna grab something from his bedroom that he wanted to show him but forget to show him the last time they were home and off he went.

It had been maybe 20 minutes before you finally settled down with a drink next to your brother in law, Nicolas. "Where's Lew?" You asked him, looking around for your boyfriend.

He shrugs, "I think he's still upstairs, probably got caught up in his stuff, you know how he is." Nicholas says, mid Mario kart match with Willow.

You were off again, going up to check on your boyfriend who was in fact in his childhood bedroom, and reminiscing about god knows what.

"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Hamilton?" You walked in, shutting the door.

Lewis smiles at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's sir Hamilton."

"Oh excuse me," you huffed, rolling your eyes as you sat on his lap, an arm over his shoulders. "Penny for your thoughts, Sir Hamilton ?"

"Just thinking." He rests his head on you.

"What about?"

"How I've never fucked anyone in here."

You laughed so hard, you snorted. Smacking your boyfriend's arm, you shook your head. "Shut up, that's not what you were thinking about."

"It so was!" He says, flipping you over so you're flat on your back and under him. You giggle, hands on your boyfriend's jaw. "Don't even start," you warn him, knowing what he was thinking.

"Start what?" Lewis asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck. The moment his lips meet your skin, you melt and all cohesive thoughts go out the window.

Your boyfriend's hands move quickly, spreading your legs apart as he drops to his knees in front of you.

"We have dinner in a few minutes." You whisper to him, propping yourself up on your elbows. Lewis shrugs, "I'm grown, I'm allowed to have dessert first," he winked, making you groan.

"Ew- oh." You stop mid sentence, falling back into the mattress. Lewis's tongue is pressed against you, feeling him trace slow figure 8s over your cunt until your legs are shaking.

His hands grip your thighs under your skirt, the two of you too preoccupied to hear the footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the room.

Nicolas opens the door, "dinner is - EW! Sorry!" He shouts, shutting the door.

You're sat up now, fixing your skirt and Lewis is still on the floor, wiping the lower half of his face. "Was that Nic?"

"Yeah," your cheeks are red. "Go say sorry to him." You tell him, Lewis gives you a confused look. "What for?"

"For walking in on us."

"He should have knocked."

"I don't think he was expecting us to be doing that, Lewis."

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: i saw that you’re opening requests for f1 drivers.. can i request angst to fluff with seb vettel where him and reader are dating but he breaks up with the her to focus on the wdc (set in 2013) and she ends up rebounding with fernando which makes seb really jealous,, anyways after winning he publicly confesses his love for the reader or something, u can choose whether the reader gets back with seb or stays with fernando idm teehee ❤️❤️ love youu (anonymous)

Word Count: 1095 words

(author's note: another longer one !! i did think i was going to have to postpone it but i managed to get it finished for you all 🩷)

Sebastian always knew he wanted to be a World Champion. Ever since he was a little boy in his racing kart, he knew he wanted to be one of the best racing drivers the world had ever seen. He also knew that he would sacrifice anything to achieve his dreams, but he never thought it would actually get to that point.

It was mid-way through the 2013 Formula 1 season and Sebastian was one of the strongest contenders for the Championship. His girlfriend at the time, Y/N, couldn't be more proud of Sebastian, especially since she knew how hard he had worked to get to his current position.

However, after a meeting with his strategists, team leaders and various other important people, Sebastian's perspective of his relationship had been tainted and darkened. Somehow the meeting had managed to brainwash him into thinking Y/N was a distraction. An enemy. An obstacle; preventing his Championship dreams from coming true.

The next step in Sebastian's Championship chase was a heated argument with Y/N in his drivers room. Insults were hurled, every single one out of anger, not one of them holding any truth. And then came the final devastating line;

“I'm done. We're over,” Sebastian said. His gaze was cold as he stared at Y/N, eyes void of any emotion.

Her lip trembled as she nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Y/N turned on her heel and headed towards the door. As her fingers grasped the handle, she hesitated.

“Good luck with the Championship. I hope it's worth it.”

With that, she opened the door and walked out.

Eventually the season came to a close. Sebastian Vettel was World Champion. Again. But something wasn't right. He should be happy, right? He had gotten what he wanted all along.

Wrong. All Sebastian felt while holding his trophy was guilt and regret. The pit in his stomach deepened even further when he saw Y/N in the crowd with a man's arm wrapped around her waist. His eyes moved to the face of the individual and he did a double take when he realised who it was.

Fernando Alonso.

Sebastian had been too caught up in training and strategizing to see that Y/N had moved on. He saw the adoration in her eyes as she looked at the man next to her. He knew that look all too well, because that's how she used to look at him.

Maybe they were just friends? Sebastian's brain was thinking of every possible explanation. He hadn't actually seen or heard any confirmation they were dating. Although he had been too caught up in his own life to even notice anything or anyone else.

Before he could realise, he was being forced into an interview on stage.

“Sebastian!” The interviewer began, “World Champion again, how does it feel?”

“Uh- yeah it feels great obviously, it's always been my dream to be up here, winning as many times as possible.”

“Do you have anything you'd like to say to the fans in front of you?”

“Well, thank you for all your continued support, it means the world to me,” He said smiling at the crowd, “But most of all, I want to say sorry to one person in particular. Y/N, I wish I could take back everything I said to you all those months ago. This victory feels hollow without you to celebrate it with.”

The interviewer looked stunned and so did the crowd.

Y/N's face dropped when she heard Sebastian's improvised speech. As she felt the weight of thousands of eyes on her, she began to move through the crowd. Pushing through bodies, she desperately tried to escape the masses of people. Fernando was hot on her heels, not wanting his girlfriend to be alone.

Sebastian saw her rush off through the crowd and he knew he had royally messed everything up.

"Y/N, wait! I'm sorry, just wait please-" Sebastian thrust the microphone he was holding into the interviewer's hand and scrambled off the stage. He shoved his way through the fans frantically, following the footsteps of his ex-girlfriend.

He eventually found her (and Fernando) outside the Ferrari garage. Y/N's face was pressed into Fernando's chest as she sobbed. Sebastian watched from afar, realising what he had actually done. He knew he needed to speak to Y/N, but he didn't know if she would want to speak to him.

Sebastian eventually mustered up the courage to walk over to the pair. Fernando spotted him first, his face twisting into one of disgust.

"What do you want Vettel? You have your Championship, come to ask for my girlfriend too?"

"No! I just- I wanted-"

"You were so bold a moment ago? Spit it out, don't you think you've done enough damage for one day?" Fernando spat.

"Look, I know what I did was wrong, and I want to apologise.”

Y/N moved away from her boyfriend's chest and looked up at the blonde man infront of her.

“I'll meet you in your drivers room Fernando, I'd like to hear this.”

The Spaniard nodded, pressed a kiss to Y/N's forehead and walked off.

An awkward silence fell over the pair.

"So, you and Fernando? When did that happen?"

"Why does that matter? We broke up months ago, Sebastian. I moved on, you clearly didn't."

"Look, I'm glad you're happy now. If I knew about you and Fernando I never would've made a scene, I promise. I just realised that all the Championships and celebrations have meant nothing without you.”

"Too little too late Sebastian. I wanted you to win as much as you wanted to win yourself. But you couldn't see that. You were blinded by your ambitions, and I couldn't compete with that.”

"I'm sorry.”

"I know you are.”

Y/N stared at Sebastian pitifully. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him gently. He was taken aback, but he accepted the embrace gratefully.

"You'll find someone else to celebrate with, you're Sebastian Vettel.”

"It still won't be the same without you.”

The pair finally broke out of the hug and tears glistened in Sebastian's eyes.

"Fernando's waiting for me, I should probably go. Goodbye Sebastian.”

"Goodbye Y/N. I hope you can forgive me someday.”

"I've always forgiven you Seb, before you even knew you were sorry."

With one last shared look, Y/N turned around and headed off to find Fernando, leaving Sebastian standing alone. He had achieved his dreams and more, but at the cost of his future.

[whoisneo404]

Kitchen Accident.

Summary: While going for a mid-night snack with your close friend Nick in his kitchen, you start to goof around and wrestle (as a joke or game), and he accidentally stains your sleeping shirt with grape juice.

tw: cursing. use of good boy (as a joke??). suggestive?? at the end

Note: The reader is shorter than Nick.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

"All right, we can go to the kitchen, but we have to be silent; I don't want to wake the kids and make them grumpy." Nick says as he grabs the door handle and looks at me dead serious.

I nod, and he opens the door of his room, walking silently to the kitchen and turning the lights on. He left his phone on the counter and walked to the fridge.

"What do you have?" I ask, looking over his shoulder. He hums as he scans the fridge. "Chris' pepsis are a big no; he will kill us. It's not fun to drink milk if it's breakfast. Water and grape juice!" He smiles, looking back at me.

"That sounds great," I say playfully as I start searching for the bag of snacks I bought with me today. "Hey, Nick, where is the bag of snacks?"

He puts the pack of plastic bottles on the counter, opens up a drawer, and takes out a knife. With it, he breaks the plastic, takes out one bottle, and takes a drink out of it.

"I think I left them in one of the top drawers," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

"Okay," I say, and start opening the drawers, which had lots of things like plates, cereal, empty boxes, and mugs, but no bag with snacks until I opened the shelf next to Nick, and there it was, on the top shelf. I stand on my tiptoes but can't reach them. I let out a groan and looked at Nick with "anger."

"You did this on purpose."

"do what?" He tries to hide his smirk with his hand and the bottle of juice, but I see it, and I cross my arms over my chest. "You placed the bag there because you knew I couldn't reach it."

"How do you know it was me? Maybe it was Matt; who knows?" "No, why would he do that? It was you; now get it down so we can continue watching drag races."

"See, you liked the show. and I won't help you until you say please and thank you." He's smiling wider, and I try to contain the blush on my cheeks.

"No, I won."

"Then, no snacks."

"Come one, don't be a jerk," I say, walking to him and grabbing his arms to try and move him over. Closer, go to the drawer. "Don't push me around you idiot," he laughs and starts pushing and pulling me playfully. The kitchen was filled with laughs and curses from both of us.

"Just grab the fucking snacks! I won't say please." As I said, he grabs my arm with his free hand and pulls me closer to him, leaning forward. His mouth is right beside my ear. "Be quiet; good boys don't behave like that." His voice is low, and I can tell he is smirking from the way it sounds. I blushed and pushed him away from me, his grape juice splashing over me. He burst into laughter while covering his mouth, trying not to wake anyone up. "What the fuck, Nick?" I let out in shock; my chest and stomach are cold, and my cheeks are hot. I can't even look him in the eyes.

"I was just playing, god, sorry," he says between giggles. "You should take your shirt off," he says, winking at me.

"STOP THAT!" He laughs even harder. I cover my face and let out a groan. He stops laughing and grabs my waist. "what-?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spill my drink over you... but now I can take off your shirt, help you dry yourself, and give you one of my shirts," he whispers close to my face. "Why are you doing this?"

"I mean, the drink was an accident; I don't know what took over me to say what I said. I never thought you'd like it or like me, so I never did anything, but... did you like it? I mean, like me, do you like me?." he smiles.

"God, Nick, yes, of course." I grab his cheeks and pull him down to kiss him.

"All right then, let's go to my room and get you cleaned up." He kisses my head. He grabs the bag of snacks, and I grab the pack of drinks.

"Just so you know... these chips and chocolates aren't the only snacks I want to eat tonight," he winks at me and runs to his room.

"NICK, WHAT THE FUCK!"

[girlbloggersfolly]

DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet

Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.

a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx

-----

You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning. 

Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.

“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.

“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either, 

“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.

 Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever. 

You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =

The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat. 

“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time. 

If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point. 

Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-

“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state. 

“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.

“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw. 

“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”

Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on. 

“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically. 

“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father. 

You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,” 

Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.

The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.

“Trouble in paradise.” Great. 

“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.” 

That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”

“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did. 

“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to. 

“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.

“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.

You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?” 

He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”  

You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?” 

“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness. 

Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket. 

He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke. 

“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.

“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again. 

“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever. 

“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.

you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.

“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.” 

He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame. 

“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning’, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away. 

Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too. 

Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.

When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller. 

After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel. 

Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside. 

“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly. 

“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing. 

You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high. 

“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen. 

“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?” 

He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”

You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention. 

“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.

“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.

“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.

“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory. 

“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there. 

“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin. 

He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 

You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily. 

“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face. 

You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick. 

He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.

“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave. 

“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk. 

He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag. 

He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.

You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine. 

He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling. 

Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered. 

He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again. 

“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan. 

“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?” 

You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that. 

“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,” 

It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit. 

“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur. 

You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you. 

His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance. 

You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy. 

“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap. 

“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.

 “Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.

“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it… 

He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut. 

Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push. 

“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt. 

He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm. 

“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt. 

“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again. 

“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.

 “How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you. 

He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,” 

“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.

“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release. 

He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him. 

He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had. 

“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. 

“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice. 

“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you. 

He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes. 

“Atta’ girl.” 

And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.

 He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.

 It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch. 

[deeagonemissing]

I'm not really into posting serious topics on here but here is my piece of mind on the election in America this year.

I've heard so many people here saying "Why should I care about who becomes president in America? I don't live there, it won't affect me." Spoiler alert! It does affect you, no matter where you live!

Why? Because America is one of the most powerful countries in the world and it's been that way for a really long time and most candidates for presidency around the world use American presidents as role models. So if the final verdict is that Trump will be the president for the next 4 years, we'll just end up with a bunch of smaller Trumps all around the world.

But why is Trump such a bad president? Well first of all because his values don't align with the values that would make a good president. He might not literally say it but from the laws he has proposed so far, he still believes that the roles in the family should be the same as they were in the early and mid 1900's (basically that the woman/wife only has basic human rights and is supposed to only take care of children, cook and keep the household clean while the man/husband is supposed to be the provider of the household and even have authority upon his wife). Second of all, because he really doesn't know shit about economy. He wants to deport all emigrants, legal and illegal. But why do emigrants help the economy? Because most emigrants leave their home country to work on a higher payed salary than they would get in their home country. Emigrants are a cheap working force that he wants to get rid off (also, I'm saying this as someone who has family working abroad, I'm not saying it to insult anyone). So deporting emigrants is just sabotaging yourself, your own country. Third of all, because Trump is basically an undercover pedophile. I'm saying this based on his comments from interviews about his own daughter. Yes, Ivanka Trump is now a full grown woman, well over the age of consent. But a father making comments about how "he would've dated his daughter if he wasn't her father." or how "her body is voluptuous and she's hot." is extremely creepy considering that this man has known and seen his daughter since day one, Ivanka didn't get that "hot voluptuous body" just now at 43 years of age because that's not how the human body works. And besides you really can't make publicly sexualizing your daughter on TV sound good, no matter how hard you try. There is more I can say about Trump not being a man fitting to be president but I don't want to get into more taboo/complicated topics because I don't want to influence anyone based on my own opinions.

In my opinion, the only people that have voted for Trump are: uneducated people, extremely religious people and/or traditionalists (most religious people are also traditionalists and vice versa). What people fail understand is that religion is supposed to be about love, acceptance and peace, while hatred and judgement towards anybody is considered a sin in most religions. Taking away the rights of inoccent people simply for their race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender etc is inhumane. A good leader is one that's sees past these aspects of a person (despite their personal opinions) and judges based someone based on their values and who they are as a person. Even if you're black, white, asian, homosexual, heterosexual, christian, muslim, atheist, satanist, man or woman, on top of everything you're a person, and every person deserves the rights they've fought for for years, it's sadistic taking someone's rights simply because they don't align with your ideal type of person.

So, respectfully, if you're someone who supports Trumps (or any similar) ideologies, please unfollow this blog and go about your day as usual. I'm not here to fight with anyone, I just want to share my perspective of this.

[kirishimasbabygirl]

Dating Kirishima

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A/N: Hey!!! I've been having Kirishima brain rot of months now so it's y'all problem now lol

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He is the definition of a gentleman; he holds doors open for you, helps you up steps, and walks outside the sidewalk closer to the street.

The first time he took you out on a date, he almost threw himself across the hood of his truck to stop you from opening the car's door to get out.

"W-Wait holds on; I'll get it for you!"

He is so polite with your folks.

Tries real hard to impress them, brings flowers for your mama, and gives your pa a firm handshake and compliments that beat up on racing car his been "fixin' " for years.

He's shaking the whole time; you have to hold his hand to get him to relax.

"I just don't want to mess this up."

He LOVES to show you off.

He'll take you out and strut around with you on his arm like he won the lottery. (If you ask him, he'll say he did)

He was so excited for you to meet his friends he grew up with; he told you so many stories of them from high school you can't help but feel a little intimidated.

"Hey, look at me; they're going to love you, okay?"

And they do!

Mina and Danki would gang up on him and tell you the stupid shit he did when they were teens.

Sero would crack a joke at Kirishima's expense, and everything was fine!

You got along with everyone and felt really welcomed by them; the only one that worried you was Bakugou.

"Then he crashed his head through this guy's window-"

"H-hey! Maybe we don't let her that one."

He sat there all night quietly watching you and every move you made; it felt like he was staring you down by the time the two of you left.

Eijiro noticed how quiet you were returning to the house and asked what was wrong.

You told him you were worried about what bakugou thought of you; you know the two of them are best friends, and you didn't want to cause problems.

He stared at you in the corner of his eye and told you that you didn't need to worry about that.

Later that night, you heard him on the phone with the blond when he thought you had gone ahead and gone to sleep.

You could see a grin split across his face.

"So, what do you think about her?"

"She's nice, man. Sweet."

"Yeah? Yeah, she is; she's the best, bro. I mean, like, did you hear how she laughs? Oh god, don't get me started on her nose and -"

He could go on and on about how much he loves you to anyone who would listen.

The lady scanning his items at the store? He's talking about how his surprising you with your favorite ice cream.

The old woman his helping cross the street? He's talking about how cute you were playing with your little cousins at your last family reunion.

"I just love her so much."

He does adore you; you are his main drive in life, and he absolutely would do anything for you.

He once stopped what he was doing mid-guys night and RAN all the way home from across town because you called him that you watched a scary movie by yourself. You swear to god you saw something outside your window.

"Don't worry! I'm here!"

He's knocked motherfuckers out over you; one time at a club, your shared friend group dragged the two of you too, and he decided to hang back as Mina pulled you onto the dance floor.

He hung back with the boys and was shooting shots when he felt Katsuki nudge his arm; he looked up at his friend, whose eyes were glued on the dance floor.

He looked over to see these two guys pressed up against you, front and back, you clearly distressed, pushing on the guy in front of yous chest, while the guy behind you pressed up against you even more, sandwiching you between them.

He's never moved faster in his life; he flew out of his chair and was tearing them both off you before they could even open their mouths; he had them on the floor rumbling.

At some point, Katsuki, Kaminari, and Hanta, as well as Mina, had jumped in to whip their asses which caused all six of you to get kicked out.

You were apologizing the whole ride home when he pulled over and cupped your face.

"As long as I am alive, no one will ever touch you like that again."

And you believed him.

[thebubblesareevil]

Slowing Down is Hard, but Necessary….

Part 1

Barry woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing. That was…not normal.

It was always the same, him running and that…thing chasing him. So who was this new player? Barry shook his head and gently laid back down, careful not to wake his wife. If he was lucky he might get a little more-

He jumped right back out of his bed as his alarm starts blaring. He groaned but relented that he was an adult and he must do adult things.

He’d just have to figure out what this new development was tonight.

———-

After a full day of examining crime scenes, patrolling the city, and bantering with captain cold, all before being called to the watchtower to talk about the kids, Barry was exhausted to say the least. He nearly wept when his head hit his pillow. Iris laughed at his antics, but turned off the light and wrapped him in her arms with a kiss. ‘She was such a good wife what did he ever do to deserve this amazing human being’ he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

His eyes flew open as he was once more surrounded by waves of light. He needed to run. He paused, thinking of the teen from the night before.

So instead of running Barry let go of the iron grip he had on the speed force and walked, though staying vigilant, ready to run at the first hint that this “Phantom” was lying to him. Barry wasn’t sure how long he walked before he came across the floating teen.

True to his word he was, in fact, taking a nap. As someone who moves a mile a second, he understood the need for naps. Unfortunately he also knew that he was the only one who could answer his questions. So with great reluctance he grabbed the teens shoulder to wake him…. Only to be sucker punched by the teen.

Barry went flying, if nothing else the teen had one hell of an arm. He looked up to see the teen covering his mouth, trying his hardest not to laugh.

"S-Sorry, I'm t-trying not to laugh I-I swear." or at least he WAS because the teen immediately broke down is a fit of laughter. Barry took this time to get a better look at him. His skin had a kind of purple/blue tinge to it, so he definitely not human of course the massive fangs were a bit of a giveaway. He couldn't tell how big he was, as he was curled up in the air laughing but based on last time he wasn't too big. Barry coughed to get Phantom's attention once more.

"Sorry, I really needed that, its been a crazy day. Seriously though, didn't anyone ever tell you not to wake sleeping interdimensional beings? You're lucky I only hit you man." Phantom said, wiping away a nonexistent tear.

"Is that what you are?" Phantom shrugged.

"I guess? I mean technically. I'm not from the speed force, heck I'm only a part-time resident of the infinite realms, new job be damned."

Barry raised a brow "New job?"

"Not important. What about you? What kind of creature winds up in the speed force by accident?" Barry hesitated before answering.

"I'm a human, but I get my powers from the speed force." Phantom rolled over mid air (?) giving him a skeptical look.

"You're a human? With access to the speed force? You mean, when you were racing the road runner you were using the speed force, right?" Barry nodded.

"Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you're not human. Not anymore."

Barry froze, that can't be true. He looked at Phantom with anger clear on his face.

"You're lying." Phantom sighed, floating down closer to eye level, his face resigned.

"No, I'm not. I know you probably don't want to hear it but... humans can't survive the speed force. It's not possible. In order for you to be able to use the speed force the way you claim, your body would have to be changed irreversibly. Think about it this way, you took health right?" Barry rolled his eyes, but nodded. "If I remember correctly, a normal human heart has an average of, like, 80 BPM right?"

"Well yes but how do you know a humans-" Phantom cut him off.

"We'll get there, I promise. But first answer this, how fast does your heart beat?" Barry shook his head.

"The speed force-"

"Makes you faster, makes every part of you faster. CHANGES every part of you so it can go faster." Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. "Look I know this is a hard pill to swallow but... I've been there, it's not fun. Realizing something like this and having to face everyone around you, realizing no one around you could possibly understand. It's hard." Barry sat there in shock for a moment before fully taking in what he just said.

"You were human? And you went through this alone? Why... Weren't there any other metahumans to help you? The Justice League-" Phantom snorted.

"I'm sorry, the what league? What is that? Some kind of weird team name? It's baseball isn't it?" Phantom said with a laugh as Barry stood in shock.

"You don't know about the Justice League? The world famous team of superheroes?"

"Dude, what part of interdimensional being did you not get. The earth I'm from only has one hero, and I'm it." He said proudly, puffing out his chest. "Sure I had to die to get the job but, thems the breaks." he stated with a shrug. "By the way, you never did tell me who you are. Spill man, fair is fair." Barry stood there in a state of shock and horror.

This teen, this KID was his earth's only hero? He died?! Barry swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm Barry, Barry Allen, but my hero name is the Flash." Phantom nodded.

"Well Barry Allen it's nice to meet you. If we're gonna go all in here, my name is Danny Fenton, but like I told you before I go by Phantom." He said sticking out his hand. Barry took the offered hand.

"And hey, next time you wake me up from a nap, just shout. You're less likely to get a black eye." He snarked with a toothy (giant fangs, dear gods) grin.

Barry woke with a jolt, looking around to find what woke him, his heart beating fast (too fast) before he recognized the sound of his alarm. He hit snooze and laid back down.

"Danny, huh?"

@thegatorsgoose@hypewinter

[blorbocedes]

wanted to point out"knowing when to quit" is valid for family and personal reasons, plus the fact that he felt fulfilled in nico's case (and i see why rivals would 👀👀 at the lack of ambition, which isnt fair but i get it) but i don't see how the whole thing of quitting when at the top is supposed to be better than not as if 41 yrs old fernando wasn't still elite or lewis whose 2023 was better than some of his championship years imo, the both of them in mid cars and better than most of the grid. i don't think they're chasing ghosts, they clearly still enjoy what they do, and they're good at it. winning isn't everything, retirement just comes down to what an athlete really wants and feels like, not where they are in their career

as i was writing this i realized i couldn't think of anyone from that gen outside of lewis and fernando who hasn't gone out sad lmao so idk

you misunderstand me. I'm not saying every driver should retire immediately after winning, I'm talking about framing and how certain decisions can be viewed, acceptance and fulfilment in f1

they're absolutely excellent drivers, and have lucked into staying in good cars (lewis more than fernando) and worked hard into staying in good form along with their natural talent. they're easily better than most of the grid.

but you're absolutely kidding yourself if you don't think fernando isn't chasing ghosts. Fernando retired from f1 in 2018 in that mclaren scoring 50 points in the championship.

He won Le Mans twice and Daytona in 2018/2019, before he came back to f1 because he still believes in that 33rd win and 3rd championship. if drivers only drove for how they felt like and not where they are in their career, then fernando wouldn't have quit f1 if he was in a better car.

The last time Fernando won a race is in 2013, more 10 years ago, and he keeps posting 33 because he believes, even I'm rooting for it too. But it is absolutely chasing a dream that only now this last year's Aston's early performance gives us recency bias of hope.

likewise, lewis and toto have affirmed multiple times that their goal is the 8th wdc. it's not so much as a ghost as the mythical 8th wdc that no one in the sport has done and lewis has to believe he can because his whole career has been achieving the unthinkable.

yes ofc they enjoy racing, and they're some of the best at it, but this conversation is about world champions and neither of them would keep on driving if they weren't chasing that championship/win. the win (for champion drivers) IS everything.

so what happens if fernando wins the 33rd? or 3rd championship? he will gun for the 34th, 4th championship, and he will be 50 years old, driving in circles until he can accept that it isn't coming. that's when drivers retire... in f1 from what we have seen if you're a world champion you can only retire when you're no longer on top of the game and have accepted it. nico was the only one who didn't.

[vro0m]

ok genuine question bc im not sure if im missing something like. the anon talking about how max should be in the 2nd fastest car to see if he can actually race... ??? so many fans say stuff like that and while i agree seeing max fight more would be fun like. i really just don't understand how people don't think he's as good a driver as he is?? like the blorboisms sure but like. he crossed the finish line first in 2021. hes got 3 wdc. like yes there are rules and regulations but i literally dont understand how people dont see or dont want to see that like. the goal is to race. the faster you are the more you win races therefore the faster you are the better you are. like?? idk this entire asks i think says actually nothing u can ignore if u want lol

You set aside the blorboism but I'm sorry to say I think it's mainly just that.

However I do think there is a difference between winning a race and being a good racer, in that when I talk about racing (and I think when anon talks about racing) we mean against others, as in actively overtaking and making moves etc. So yes. You can "just" be faster and win and that's great good for you, but in my personal opinion it's not as interesting, not as impressive, and not as cool as having to race to win, you know what I mean? So I would disagree with "the faster you are the better you are".

Imagine if someone came up with a car that's, say, a whole 5 second a lap faster than anyone else. A mid driver could win in that, just because he'd start ahead and stay ahead. Would that make him a great skillful driver or just a lucky mid driver?

Now imagine there's a driver in a car that's not 5 second a lap faster than the rest, who starts at the back of the field and manages to overtake every single car ahead of him cleanly except that one guy in his rocketship. Is he a worst racer than the one who won by being 5 second a lap faster than anyone else? What if he ends up P5? What if he ends up P10?

Of course in reality that's not how it works. First of all driving a dominant car also takes skills + second of all you generally don't end up in a dominant car without having proven yourself as a racer first + third of all being fast takes skills so in that sense, yes, if you're faster you're better. But that's why to me, although you just need to be the fastest to win, being the greatest takes more than that. And Max is more than just the current fastest, just like Lewis (or Alonso) isn't less skilled because he's not the fastest at the moment.

[yamaylander]

hey, it's me again! after a whole 2 days, i've finished redoing Nightmare. to be honest i didnt expect myself to work that fast but i guess i was THAT devoted to redoing her entire character. it's a really long file so it's obviously gonna be put under read more. there'll be a preview up until her profile below

special thanks to @cherry-blossomtea and another friend for helping me research DID as well as talking about their experiences with DID themselves. and obviously thanks @adorablegorilla for inspiring me to do this (although i did take a lot of liberties remaking Nightmare's character. found the evil alter thing distasteful)

of course, feedback is always appreciated so i know what parts work best and what areas i need to improve upon, especially in regards to DID as this is my first time engaging it. so do send if you have any!

without further ado, i present to you what i'm calling: Y5 Nightmare!

-----

Nightmare, Medic Operators of Rhodes Island, will provide help no matter who’s currently in the moment.

Who is it I’m talking to today?

Codename: Nightmare

Class: Incantation Medic

Real Name: Nyx Rebel Pasbelletti, Gloria

Gender: Female [Both]

Experience: 6 months [Nyx], 1 month [Gloria]

Place of birth: Victoria

Date of birth: June 1st [Nyx], March 12th [Gloria]

Race: Feline

Height: 156 cm

Infection status: Visible internal blotches, infection confirmed

(file continued below)

Token: A glow-in-the-dark doll, handmade. Nyx said it’ll protect you from bad dreams.

Physical examination

Strength: Normal

Mobility: Standard

Endurance: Normal

Tactical acumen: Good [Nyx], Normal [Gloria]

Combat Skill: Good [Nyx], Standard [Gloria]

Arts adaptation: Excellent

Skills (Rank 7)

Soul Reflection - ATK increases by 70% and attacks two enemies at once, healing two allies in range; each attack binds enemies for 3 seconds

Phantasmagoria - Range expands and stops attacking; decreases movement speed of enemies by 60% and drains 20% of their health every second with Arts damage, while healing operators depending on how many enemies are currently in range

Talent

Fronting - Healing effectiveness increased by 20% when equipped with skill 1; Obtains 18% ATK when equipped with skill 2

*Gloria has asked to keep this event classified until both her and Nyx come to a consensus to speak about it.

Profile

Nyx is a Victorian operating under the codename Nightmare with her headmate, Gloria. Prior to their entry into Rhodes Island, Nyx was a college student who studied medical Arts. Gloria came later during her life due to an unspecified event* before her subsequent infection. They now currently work in Rhodes Island’s triage section, working to help patients as well as Operators in the battlefield.

Clinical Testing

Imaging tests for this Operator showed a blurry outline of internal organs with visible unusual dark spots. Unusually high concentrations of Originium particles were present in her circulation, indicating signs of infection and confirming her as infected at this stage.

[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 16%

Surveillance is recommended for rare cases like this.

[Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.33u/L

Infection is in mid-stage and continues to spread. First-level medical plan recommended. Pathological Monitoring Protocol Label: Red (signed by Dr. Kal’tsit, see medical file for more detail).

Gloria is known to be gentle, almost to a fault. She doesn’t strike anyone as the type who would go out in the battlefield, instead giving the impression that she would rather stay and help others in the infirmary. This view is only half the truth. While Gloria does indeed want to help others, she wishes to do so in a manner that both soothes and protects her fellow operators onboard. In the ship, she is often the one who consoles others during their time of need. This is especially true for those who are currently experiencing traumatic stress. Surprisingly Gloria seems to have a good handle on how to deal with such matters, to the point that she could very well apply to be a therapist. It’s even more surprising that Gloria chose to become a battlefield operator, though this is because by her and Nyx’s volition, they want to help people wherever they can.

Archive File 1

Operator Nightmare suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder. In rudimentary terms, DID is when a person suffers from having two or more personalities, also known as alters, in their consciousness. Currently, Nightmare has two headmates that are present, that being Nyx and Gloria, the latter of which tends to be fronting much of the time.

On the subject of Nyx, who is the oldest alter before Gloria came to be, she appears to be far more reserved compared to the more sociable Gloria. She usually remains dormant for long periods of time, often letting Gloria front whenever possible. On the chance that Nyx is fronting however, she shows herself to be far quieter than Gloria is. When talking to others, she speaks in a hushed voice and is quick with her words. She also tends to be more upfront and honest, which has led to others conflicting with Nyx from time to time. From Gloria’s words however, this isn’t because Nyx chooses to be mean, this is only because Nyx isn’t sure how she can talk to others. 

Currently, Gloria is undergoing talks with Nyx in order to help her open up, but she also stresses that Nyx must be given time before she can properly do so. On that note, Operators should be mindful of who they are speaking to at the moment and that proper respect should be given to Nyx’s situation.

Nyx has attended many classes regarding medicine and psychology, to the point that she often spent time reading up on the subject matters during her free time which has resulted in her stifled sociality. This may have also given way to her blunt nature, as Gloria admitted that Nyx often got into trouble by her own volition simply because she was honest in a manner that hurt others. Nyx doesn’t seem to understand why this is but seeing as this was the consequence of her honesty, she wishes to learn how she can avoid hurting others in the future.

Archive File 2

Both Nyx and Gloria have an interest in medicine, psychology and Originium, a somewhat broader range of interest compared to others. Although Nyx was born in a Victorian city that focused on artistry, with her father working in the pottery business, Nyx opted to follow her mother’s footsteps, who worked at the local hospital.

Her interest in Originium came about after Gloria had manifested. Both have been seen attending classes and reading up on Originium and its effects in Rhodes Island. As Gloria stated, “We want to know about Originium simply because we don’t want others to suffer because of it, as well as helping others become safer around it”. To say that Nyx and Gloria are determined to work hard and help others is an understatement.

On the subject of medicine and psychology, it seems the interests somewhat split with Nyx leaning more into studying psychology and Gloria studying medicine more often. Nyx appears to be up to speed on most mental disorders and knows how to deal with them in their proper manner while Gloria’s knowledge on medicine allows her to work in Rhodes Island’s infirmaries without trouble, assisting the doctors if she is available. Their efforts in both departments are commendable and their knowledge will prove fruitful to Rhodes Island’s advances in care.

When Gloria is fronting, the Arts unit becomes more effective at healing operators on the field, targeting multiple people at once. The healing Arts is immensely effective, allowing operators to stand longer and keep fighting. It also has the effect of making our operators feel more alert and thus more vigilant during their battles, increasing their performance in combat.

Archive File 3

For someone so young, Nyx shows a surprising aptitude for battle. Although Gloria has only had one month of combat experience and has focused mostly on first aid, Nyx seems to have the battlefield almost under her control. This is attributed to her Arts unit, which was discovered to have two functions based on whoever is currently fronting at the moment.

On the other hand, when Nyx is fronting the Arts unit becomes focused on keeping enemies back. When used on enemies, it puts them into a dreamlike state where their consciousness appears to dissociate from the current reality. This often causes them to give up fighting in bizarre ways, the most common of which involves them dropping their weapons and staring up at the sky, with some of them slowly wandering the area aimlessly. Why this happens is currently unknown, as Nyx refuses to divulge for the time being. Many operators who have been in field missions with Nyx have said it to be unnerving, unsure what to think when they see the people they were fighting with “suddenly fall asleep while awake”.

One notable incident happened during one of Nightmare’s field missions with Nyx fronting. While fighting a particularly dangerous enemy, she wound up forcing them into a REM state. This resulted in the enemy panicking as though experiencing vivid nightmares, constantly screaming for nonexistent entities to stop while begging for their life to be spared. It was only when they were knocked out that they ceased their panic. After this, Nyx was told not to do this again although it doesn’t seem like she was particularly affected by this event.

While walking back home from college to visit her parents, she decided to take a quick shortcut through one of Londinium’s districts to head there faster. However, she wound up getting caught in the middle of the Kazdel-Victoria crisis where the district she was in ended up getting caught in the middle of the artillery barrages. With nowhere else to go, Nyx was forced to run aimlessly through Londinium in an attempt to get away from the situation. Although mostly successful, the event left her deeply traumatized. In the state the district was in, she had to fend for herself no matter what.

Archive File 4

After a long time, Nyx and Gloria eventually agreed to share how they came to be. Upon their request, this file should also be kept secret from the general staff of Rhodes Island.

The next few days were described to be a living nightmare. She ran afoul with some of the district’s residents whose rationales were gradually deteriorating. Nyx wasn’t an exception as she also began to steal from others whenever she could just so she could make it to another day, even going as far as to attack others who attempted to steal from her. This all eventually culminated into her breakdown when one night, while hiding away in a shelter, someone had broken into it and attempted to steal her supplies. When Nyx tried to fight back, the attacker was far more aggressive than she thought and nearly killed her. Out of desperation, Nyx casted her Arts onto her attacker. Rather than putting them to sleep however, the blast was powerful enough to not only put her attacker to near death but also caused him to experience live nightmares. The end result was that the attacker was left screaming for help for the next few seconds before finally perishing.

Horrified by her actions, her stress finally broke her down. She underwent a severe mental and emotional breakdown before her mind eventually “quarantined” the stressor. For the next few minutes, Nyx had no success of calming down until she suddenly heard Gloria’s voice, who immediately began to reassure her and that everything will eventually be alright. After that, Gloria was able to help Nyx through the crisis however she could, right up until they joined Rhodes Island when they entered one of our buildings in Victoria.

The event has changed Nyx forever and it is certainly not something she’ll easily forget, but she is forever grateful that Gloria was born during her greatest time of need.

To this day, Nyx and Gloria have been continuously communicating to each other about their activities this way but after their therapy sessions, have also been figuring out alternative ways to break down their amnesiac barriers. This led to them creating a headspace of their own, which Gloria described to be a small bedroom in the middle of the night, with a nightlight on at all times. According to Gloria, this is what they find most comforting.

Promotional Record

Prior to them joining Rhodes Island, whenever Nyx and Gloria switched they often forgot about their alter’s activities during their time fronting. Gloria was the first to notice this problem when she spoke to Nyx during their time in Victoria, after hearing the latter ask what Gloria did. With this problem in mind, Gloria had the idea of using a journal she found to document both her and Nyx’s activities so that until they find proper shelter, their alter can remember what the other did so that they are aware of what happened.

Appointed as Assistant - Oh, it’s really bright in here… Doctor, do you mind if you turn down the lights a bit?

Dialogue

Normal text is Gloria speaking, italics is Nyx speaking.

Talk 1 - When we got into Rhodes Island, we weren’t sure what we were expecting… including the kindness that everyone was expressing! It’ll take a bit for Nyx to get used to, but I think she’ll also do just fine here!

Talk 2 - Our staff was given to us by Nyx’s dad. It has the power to sorta put people to sleep but to be honest, using the staff isn’t really a wise choice if we actually want to sleep…

Talk 3 - When I’m alone and Nyx is awake, we talk to each other. The same goes for Nyx too. Hm? Do people think it’s weird? I don’t think Nyx would care, as long as she has someone to talk to… and, well, she’s right for it.

Talk after Promotion 1 - There wasn’t a moment where I could get a good night’s rest back in Victoria… but when Gloria came along, I was finally able to rest. But… I do feel bad for making her go through those horrors. She’s a really brave person.

Talk after Promotion 2 - Oh, what’s that? Our Oripathy is worsening? Yes, that’s been a really big concern of ours… but we’re sure that Rhodes Island can do something. Right Nyx? … mhm.

Trust Talk 1 - Erm, let me apologize on Nyx’s behalf! She really didn’t mean to start that fight in the hallway, I promise! It’s just been a while since she properly talked to someone so her social skills are a bit rusty… but I promise, I’ll help her learn how to socialize better. Just please be patient with her?

Trust Talk 2 - If I’m allowed to be a little morbid here… you’re essentially the leader of Rhodes Island, right? If you die out there, I’d imagine that your operators… your friends, they wouldn’t take it well. Well, that’s why we’re here! We’ll protect you, and everyone, from the threats outside. That much we can promise.

Trust Talk 3 - You get tired from time to time, right? With that pile of work, surely you do lose a lot of sleep doing it… well, what if I have a solution to that? I can always just make you sleep for a day or two. All you have to do is say the word… and I’ll come right along with what you need… haha, just kidding. Too scary?

Idle - … sweet dreams.

Onboard - Ah, hello! I’m Gloria, but you’ve already seen our resume right? My headmate’s name is Nyx! Oh, but give her some time, she’s not used to talking to people yet… codename? Hmmm… well, I think Nyx would want something intimidating like Nightmare but… w-wait, you’re already registering it?! H-Hold on!

Watching Battle Record - So this is how you get stronger…? Intriguing…

Promotion 1 - When we came here, we thought we’d simply be patients getting treatment… but we’d never imagined that we’d be so much more…!

Promotion 2 - It feels like I’m not qualified for this promotion at all… but since Gloria insists, I’ll take it too. I’m just lucky to be alive at this point. So, whatever you need us to do, we’ll do it.

Appointed to Squad (S1) - Mhm, got it.

Appointed to Squad (S2) - I’ll do my best.

Appointed as Squad Leader (S1) - W-Wait, can I really do this alone?

Appointed as Squad Leader (S2) - You won’t be alone.

Depart (S1) - We’ll get a good night’s sleep after this, right…?

Depart (S2) - Curious… what kind of things will you pull off?

Begin Operation (S1) - I see them… over the horizon…

Begin Operation (S2) - So, these are the enemies we’re facing…

Selecting 1 (S1) - Are our supplies safe?

Selecting 1 (S2) - I’ll keep them safe.

Selecting 2 (S1) - I’m ready to fight!

Selecting 2 (S2) - Be sure you won’t regret this.

Deployment 1 (S1) - So this… is our battlefield…

Deployment 1 (S2) - I see no difference in battlefield.

Deployment 2 (S1) - I’ve only fought a few times, please bear with me…

Deployment 2 (S2) - It’s been a while since I’ve been somewhere like this.

In Battle 1 (S1) - Don’t get too rash now!

In Battle 1 (S2) - I’m only getting serious.

In Battle 2 (S1) - Keep yourselves calm!

In Battle 2 (S2) - Relax. You'll only be sleeping for a few seconds.

In Battle 3 (S1) - Have a nice rest!

In Battle 3 (S2) - Sweet dreams.

In Battle 4 (S1) - We’re still advancing? O-Okay!

In Battle 4 (S2) - Don’t waste our time.

4-Star (S1) - D-Doctor… did we just… do something incredible?

4-Star (S2) - So this is what total victory feels like…

3-Star (S1) - And that’s that! Good work everyone!

3-Star (S2) - It ends here. Well done.

2-Star (S1) - Ahhh, is anyone hurt?! I’ll be right there!

2-Star (S2) - We’ve won… but it’s costly. I’ll go clean up the mess.

Assigned to Facility - Where should we sit…

Failure (S1) - Are you hurt?! W-We need to run, now!

Failure (S2) - This… can’t be happening…

Tap - Ah-! Oi.

Trust Tap - Oh, hello! Hi.

Greeting - Good morning, Doctor! Are you well rested?

Title - Akunaitsu.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Only You ~ Mid-century Music AU

Ch 9 of Until the Devil’s Last Dance

RadioApple₊⁺⋆ 50s Human AU ₊⁺⋆ Omega!Alastor ₊⁺⋆ Explicit~ 4.7k

Follow on AO3

//Hello yes I've lost my mind and I'm posting only the smut of my ongoing fic...eh no complaints have been filed yet XD//

CW: More misconceptions about sex and virginity on Alastor's part

🎙️“Only you... such simple words, but oh, the weight they carry. In this moment, dear listeners, our lovers draw closer, pulled by something far more powerful than mere attraction. There’s vulnerability here, a tenderness that no one else has ever touched…And in the stillness, it becomes clear—there’s only one soul who could ever make them feel whole.”🎙️

🎵Only you can make this world seem right Only you can make the darkness bright🎵

The midday sun painted Alastor's apartment in a soft, golden hue as he gazed out the window, his heart still racing from the night's events. The city below was stirring with the bustle of a lazy Sunday, but inside, time seemed suspended in a perfect moment.

Alastor's fingers traced his lips, still tingling from Lucifer's kisses from before he slipped away to start the coffeepot.

He came back to the room to see the alpha sprawled inelegantly across the bed, snoozing again, laying out on his stomach, sheet draped low on his hips. A now familiar warmth spread through Alastor's chest that was becoming intoxicating.

What was unfamiliar, was Lucifer’s shirtless form—his bare back was directly in the light and putting all of his intricate ink on display.

Unlike the swirling designs that decorated his forearms—darkest and most intricate at his fingers before becoming sparse and faded at his elbows—the filigree along his back formed an image that was far from abstract.

They were wings.

Not just one pair, either. Six wings framed along the alpha’s spine. The topmost pair were the largest, the tips of their feathers curled over Lucifer’s shoulders and his biceps from behind and no doubt graced his collar bones enough that Alastor had seen them in the dark the other night.

The middle pair of wings stretched full across the center of his back and framed his ribs.

And the final set of feathers arched over Lucifer’s lower back, hugging his hips and drawing down his thighs, below where the sheet rose up to cover the alpha’s lower body.

Everything in Alastor wanted to touch. To trace every line of each tattoo. 

He longed to know where and why and how—but he knew those were the memories that belong to Lucifer, the soldier.

An entirely different man from the one laying in his bed.

And Alastor…didn’t want him to relive that pain.

A sleepy sound from the blonde drove away the omega’s sudden realization that he cared for anyone’s agony but his own—and a soft smile came to the omega’s lips

"Mm…Is it morning already?" Lucifer's voice was husky with sleep.

“Not at all,” Alastor assuaged, “In fact it’s well past noon, you’ve missed the morning entirely.”

“Thank you, dear,” Lucifer let out a sleepy groan, burying his face in a pillow.

Alastor padded over to the bed, drinking in the sight of Lucifer's tousled hair and sleepy eyes.

“You’re quite welcome, darling.”

As he sat on the edge, Lucifer reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers.

🎶When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do You’re my dream come true, my one and only you🎵

“You certainly deserve to be exhausted.” Alastor soothed, a genuine tone in his voice. “Last night was…’

"Incredible," Lucifer finished, wrapping his other arm around Alastor and pulling him close.

Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Alastor marveled at how natural it felt, how exquisitely they fit together. When they parted, he rested his forehead against Lucifer's, breathing him in.

"I've never felt like this before," Alastor admitted softly. "It's almost overwhelming."

Lucifer cupped Alastor's face tenderly. "In a good way, I hope?"

“In the best way.” Alastor nodded, leaning into the touch, leaning over Lucifer’s bare torso. “I just…I want more.”

"More of what?" Lucifer's thumb stroked Alastor's cheek.

"More of you. More of this," Alastor gestured between them. "More of everything.”

“You can have more.” Lucifer moved to sit up, cupping the omega’s face and bringing him close. “You can have anything you want, sweetheart.”

Alastor's pulse quickened as he leaned in to kiss Lucifer again, impatient, desperate, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts.

The intensity of his desire caught him off guard, a tidal wave of emotion he couldn't resist.

"I want this, Lucifer. I want you." Alastor breathed against the alpha’s lips.

“You have me,” the blonde said, and the endearing earnestness of his voice was the only thing that kept the brunette from rolling his eyes.

How did they always come back to this? Trying to throw himself at the only alpha in the world who just wanted to catch him and hold him but not pin him down and—

🎵Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do And fill my heart with love for only you🎵

Alastor needed to make his wishes much, much more plain.

The omega let out a weak growl of his own, placing a hand on Lucifer’s chest and pushing him back on the bed to straddle him.

“Whoa, okay. Good morning.” The alpha chuckled, but the glee in his eyes seemed to stifle when he looked up at Alastor. “We don’t have to rush, sweetheart.”

Lucifer's steady hand covered Alastor’s on his chest.

The sheer frustration was nearly impossible to mask.

“I’m not sure how much more conspicuous I can make my desires here.” 

He leaned over Lucifer. So this brilliant, wonderful, infuriating alpha could look at nothing else.

 “I want you. Take me. Have me. Fuck—”

Alastor’s hazel eyes flared as Lucifer had the audacity to clap a hand over his mouth—and the omega had to fight the audacious urge to bite his ink-covered fingers.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer blurted at once. “It’s just, if I hear your voice saying ‘fuck me,’ I might just lose what’s left of my mind.”

Alastor snorted a laugh as Lucifer’s palm fell from his lips, though the hand just cupped his face, brushing adoringly over his cheek…so Alastor allowed it to stay despite his obvious irritation.

He leaned in closer to Lucifer, his voice dropping to an enticing whisper. "And why, pray tell, are you resisting?" 

The words 'rejecting me' danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back, unwilling to reveal that bare that vulnerability.

Lucifer's gaze softened. The alpha's hesitation was palpable, and Alastor found himself holding his breath, waiting for his response.

"Because," the blonde began, his voice low and tinged with concern. He paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts. 

It took every bit of patience Alastor had to wait and swallow his own anticipation.

Finally, Lucifer continued, "Because I'm worried that you're not ready, and that you won't tell me you're not—and that I'll end up hurting you."

The admission hung between them, heavy with implication. 

Alastor's mind whirled, processing Lucifer's words. Somehow, such affection, such consideration from the alpha, still managed to catch him off guard. 

It stirred and infuriated him in equal measure.

Alastor let out a soft, melodious laugh, his eyes dancing with fondness for this ludicrous romantic of a man. 

"My darling sweet alpha," he purred, his voice as smooth as honey laced with poison, a tone he had perfected. "pain is an inevitability in life. Why, I'd be disappointed if there wasn't a touch of…discomfort."

He watched Lucifer's face carefully, noting the slight furrowing of his brow.  

The blonde was doing that irritating, endearing thing he did. Trying to see through Alastor's carefully chosen words, artlessly blundering right into the assailable, squishy heart of the omega. 

So, without warning, Alastor closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Lucifer's in a searing kiss. His hands snaked up to tangle in the alpha's hair, pulling him closer.

In the omega’s mind, pain wasn't just possible—it was a certainty. He played his charm and looks so freely, but his virginity was the most powerful card in his hand.

And he had been careful to protect it. 

To cultivate the unspoiled scent of unmated omega. It was the first thing alphas noticed about him, and it always gave Alastor the upper hand.

The pain was the proof in advertising. The gift he would give to the highest bidder—and to think, days ago, that had alpha would have been Vox.

Alastor knew the choice he was making. Aware that he was lowering his value as an omega but…he didn’t care any more. 

These fleeting days with this beautiful alpha had changed Alastor, changed what he wanted out of life. Thinking that Lucifer had left  yesterday morning had made the omega realize what he would regret losing, and what he wouldn’t.

🎶Oh, only you can make all this change in me

For it’s true, you are my destiny🎵

Lucifer had shown him pleasure he couldn’t imagine before. All from his gentleness, his affection, his simple goodness.

Alastor wanted the first thing inside him to be this alpha. Who cared for him.

So yes, Alastor expected pain. His first time could be nothing less—but Lucifer was a romanticist. And Alastor wouldn’t let him know how much it hurt.

Breaking the kiss, Alastor's nimble fingers moved to the buttons of his own sleepshirt. With a fluid motion, he shed the garment, drawing his fingers down his lithe form. 

His gaze locked with Lucifer's as he traced the faded marks on his hips—remnants of their previous encounter, where the alpha had grabbed him and guided him.

“I bruised you…?”

"Don't you remember how much I enjoyed this?" Alastor murmured, guiding Lucifer's hand to the marks.

“You did?”

“Yes.” Alastor suppressed a shiver at the contact, his skin tingling where the alpha touched him. "I may be the weaker sex, but I'm not some delicate flower, darling."

Lucifer's eyes darkened with desire, his resolve visibly wavering as he traced the marks on Alastor's narrow hips. 

The omega felt a thrill of victory surge through him. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the other’s ear as he whispered, “I know how you love my voice, Lucifer.” Alastor's voice took on a teasing lilt as he continued, “If you’d rather I use sweeter words, I am amenable…I rather adore the romantic you are.”

Lucifer's breath hitched, his hands tightening on Alastor deliciously. 

"There’s…nothing wrong with being a little sentimental," the alpha admitted, a hint of fragility in his voice.

Seizing the moment, Alastor pressed his advantage. "Then make love to me, Lucifer," he purred, his fingers tracing patterns on the alpha's chest. "Show me how a good alpha loves."

With a growl that sent shivers down Alastor's spine, Lucifer suddenly lifted him, powerful hands gripping his thighs. Alastor found himself on his back, the alpha looming over him. 

Unlike before, there was no flinch, no hesitation in Alastor's actions. He welcomed the weight of Lucifer's body, his legs wrapping around the alpha's waist.

"Is this what you want?" Lucifer breathed, his eyes searching Alastor's face.

Alastor grinned, sharp and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you have no idea," he purred, rolling his hips upward invitingly. 

“Wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

"Then have me. I can take it.” Alastor's voice dropped to a sultry whisper, his lips brushing Lucifer's ear as the other’s mouth was at his mating gland. “Blood doesn’t phase me.”

Lucifer froze, his body suddenly tense above Alastor. He pulled back, his golden eyes wide with concern. "Blood? Alastor, what are you talking about?"

The omega blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Lucifer's reaction. The man just could not let anything go, could he?

The brunette quickly composed himself, forcing a nonchalant smile.

 "Oh, come now, don't tell me you're squeamish. It's perfectly natural, isn't it? The first time always hurts a bit."

Lucifer's brow furrowed, his gaze searching Alastor intently.

 Despite the omega's casual tone, there was something in his eyes—a flicker of apprehension, quickly masked but unmistakable to the perceptive alpha.

"Really, darling, it's nothing to fuss over. I assure you, I'm quite prepared for any…discomfort." He downplayed, reaching for the alpha again.

Lucifer's expression softened, his golden eyes filled with understanding and gentle affection. He cupped Alastor's face in his hands, his touch feather-light. 

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "it doesn't have to hurt at all. Not if we do this right."

Alastor's brow furrowed, skepticism clear in his hazel eyes. "What do you mean?" 

He knew his alpha was lovey-dovey, but this was downright fanciful.

"You've never had anything inside you before, so we can practice first." Lucifer pacified, pressing a soft kiss to Alastor's forehead. 

"Practice?" Alastor echoed, his usual fluency deserting him. His mind whirled with confusion and a whiff of anticipation. “Are you…saying you won’t… knot me?”

“I will, I will. If that’s what you want…just, not right now.”

Alastor could not hide his frustration now. He gave a rather melodramatic groan and flopped back against the bed. “Must you stymie my every attempt at—“

Lucifer interrupted, not with his words but by sliding his hand down into Alastor's silk pajama pants.

“I’m not tryin’ to stop ya, sweetheart, y’know I wanna give ya anything ya want.”

The omega's breath hitched as Lucifer's fingers teased over his pussy, finding him wet and already willing, those digits sending sparks of pleasure through him.

"Let me use my mouth on you," Lucifer suggested, his voice low and rumbling. "I'll make you come that way first. Then, when you're relaxed and ready, we can try with my fingers inside you. How does that sound?"

Alastor bit at his bottom lip, hating the way Lucifer eased off his touching to let him think. As much as he needed it.

 He'd never imagined there could be so much…preparation involved. Part of him wanted to protest, to insist he could handle more, but the affection in Lucifer's eyes made him pause. 

And want to give in. And give up his plans. Let himself be lead.

🎵 Oh-oh, only you can make all this change in me

For it’s true, you are my destiny🎵

Alastor slid his hands up Lucifer’s chest, gripping the alpha’s shoulders. He swallowed hard, finding his voice.

"I…suppose that would be acceptable," he managed, his usual bravado faltering in the face of Lucifer's loving proposition.

Lucifer's lips curved into a soft smile, but Alastor wasn't finished. 

A glimmer of his trademark scheming returned to his eyes as he added, "On one condition, my dear."

"Oh?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"I finally get to use my mouth on you as well. It's only fair, wouldn't you agree?"

For an instant, Lucifer appeared surprised. Then, his face melted into longing and fondness.

"You drive a hard bargain, darling." Lucifer chuckled, running a hand through Alastor's hair. "But I’ll take it, gladly."

Alastor's heart skipped a beat at the endearment, though he'd never admit it. Instead, he leaned into Lucifer's touch, a thrill of anticipation running through him. 

Lucifer's golden gaze was locked onto Alastor, desire and adoration in his eyes. His lips traced a path from the hollow of Alastor's throat to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. The omega gasped as Lucifer's mouth found its way to his clit, a soft whimper escaping him.

"Alright?" Lucifer asked, looking up at Alastor with concern etched on his face.

Alastor nodded, too breathless to speak. Needing Lucifer’s mouth to stay right where it fucking was. His lips made Alastor squirm—but that damnable tongue.

Lucifer smirked at the reassurance, drawing a teasing lick between Alastor’s folds—that drew an indignant sound from the omega—that he would dare stop.

“Must you…” the brunette groaned, letting his arm fall on the pillow above his head. “Be such a fucking tease?”

He grinned when his crude turn of phrase got exactly the reaction he wanted. Lucifer shuddered a groan against his slicked center, making him tremble in turn.

“Oh, fuck…sorry.” The alpha said, with a very un-sorry looking smile.

“Don’t waste time apologizing when you could be—ah!”

Lucifer’s tongue swirled around Alastor's clit with practiced ease while his fingers kneaded into the omega's trembling thighs. Each flick of sent shocks of pleasure coursing through Alastor's body until he was writhing.

The world seemed to narrow down to just this moment, just this feeling.

When Alastor came, it was with a cry that he had to stifle in the crook of his elbow. His body convulsed, and the alpha lapped at every wave, dragging it on until the omega was thoroughly undone.

But Lucifer didn't stop there.

As Alastor lay panting and spent on the bed, the blonde moved over him again. Lips shiny with slick.

Alastor’s mouth watered at the thought of a kiss when his breath hitched. The alpha was running the tip of his finger around his entrance, teasing at the muscle, like he was trying to ease his body before invading it.

Alastor felt his face and torso flush, like he’d never cooled from his pleasure, and quickly turned his cheek into the crook of his arm.

“Hey,” the alpha said, his voice a soft growl, contrasting with compassion and raw desire. “Look at me.”

Alastor felt a whine building in his throat. The sensation, the anticipation, the…uncertainty of what his face would do when Lucifer pushed a digit inside him.

If it hurt, Alastor didn’t want to show it. He didn’t want Lucifer to pull away over a moment of pain—not when another alpha would barely give him the consideration to slow down.

“Must I?” the omega murmured against his own skin.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” The alpha hummed. “I’ll do whatever ya want. Just lemme see your face.”

Alastor dropped his arm, needing a moment to wet his dried lips before he could look up at the alpha.

He wasn’t prepared for the devastatingly adoring look in those golden eyes. His past encounters had been hurried, impersonal affairs that left him feeling used, never satisfied. This was heartbreaking. As was the way Lucifer leaned in and kissed Alastor so sweetly.

Finally, the alpha slid a finger into him for the first time. And the omega gasped against his mouth. The sensation was alien but not unpalatable—he didn’t even feel a sting.

What he did feel, was hot. Achingly slick. As he gripped the alpha’s shoulders for dear life—and his pussy clenched eagerly around the intrusion.

"You okay?" Lucifer asked again, pausing as he waited for Alastor's response.

"Yes," Alastor breathed out after a moment. "Please…keep going."

“Easy, tiger.” The alpha chuckled, but encouraged by those words, he began moving his finger slowly within him.

But this was different. Lucifer moved with a softness that belied his rugged exterior, his golden eyes locked onto Alastor's face as if studying every flicker of emotion that crossed it.

Then, without warning, that single digit curled inside him, finding a sensation he never knew existed. A gasp tore from Alastor's throat as waves of pleasure radiated from that one spot. He could feel his body responding instinctively, clenching around the intrusion in an attempt to draw it deeper.

Lucifer paused at the reaction, a slow smile spreading across his face as he realized what he'd found. He pressed against the mark again and Alastor nearly bucked off the bed with the intensity of the thrill.

"Easy," Lucifer murmured soothingly. "Just breathe."

Before Alastor could respond or even catch his lungful properly, another finger joined the first one. The stretch was unsettling for a moment before pleasure quickly overcame any discomfort with the way Lucifer curved his fingers.

The dual sensations—of being filled and stimulated in such an intimate way—were overwhelming in their intensity but utterly addictive. It was like nothing Alastor had ever experienced before—sweet torment that made him want more, even as he feared he might shatter under its potency.

The perpetually composed omega found himself a mess under the blonde’s hand, clinging to Lucifer, gasping against his mouth, unable to escape those angel eyes.

The blonde’s free hand was in his hair, pushing it away from his face, pinning the omega in place as he pleasured him.

Alastor found himself teetering on the edge of another climax faster than he could have imagined. When he felt Lucifer shift his hand and circle his swollen clit.

The omega’s tongue fumbled over every word he’d ever known—he couldn’t even get out Lucifer’s name.

All he could gasp out, was “alpha.”

When his second orgasm hit, it was even more fierce than the first. His body clenched around Lucifer's fingers as waves of bliss washed over him, leaving him shaking and panting.

Lucifer held him through it all, whispering words of comfort and praise until Alastor's breathing finally began to slow. He looked up at Lucifer with wide hazel eyes.

Lucifer smiled back at him, his golden eyes softening with affection.

“Didn’t know you could be left speechless.”

Alastor nodded fervently, unable to form words as ripples of ecstasy swept through him. His mind reeled, caught between the physical sensations and the emotional severity of the moment. He'd never felt so vulnerable, yet so cherished. It was a connection that seemed to transcend the boundaries he'd always clung to.

Alastor's breath came in short, ragged gasps as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. His body trembled against the bed, legs still splayed around the alpha, overcome by a surge of desire and affection.

"Lucifer," he whispered, his voice husky with need. “Can I…please.” Alastor needed to make his alpha feel even a fraction of this. As good and as…complete as he felt now.

Lucifer's eyes met his, patient and encouraging. "What do you want, Alastor?"

“To finally get my mouth on you.”

A low growl rumbled in Lucifer's chest. "Are you sure, sweetheart?"

Alastor nodded, already sliding a hand down Lucifer's body. “There’s only one thing I want more—but I sense you won’t let me have that yet.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not that I don’t—”

With mild pressure, Alastor pushed Lucifer back onto the bed. As he positioned himself between the alpha's legs, a tingle ran through him. This was and wasn’t like anything he’d done before, when he'd been forced to his knees. This was his choice, his desire.

"Tell me if I do something you don’t—," Alastor murmured, his hands running up Lucifer's thighs.

Lucifer's fingers tangled in Alastor's hair. "You're perfect," he murmured.

Alastor took Lucifer into his mouth, feeling the familiar weight on his tongue. But this, was different.

Lucifer gave an appreciative groan, collapsing back against the pillows as he obviously tried not to buck up into the tight heat.

Alastor settled his hands on the alpha’s hip and thigh, the blonde’s legs spread to make room for him…and the omega was struck by how different it felt to be in control. He set the pace, relishing in Lucifer's reactions.

It was empowering, arousing, and entirely bewitching.

The omega ducked his head, taking the alpha’s cock down his throat only as far as he could handle, before sucking his way back to the heated pink tip.

"Alastor," Lucifer moaned, his hips lifting slightly.

Alastor hummed in response, lost in the heady rush of giving pleasure rather than receiving it. He'd never imagined it could feel like this.

With every gasp and shudder from Lucifer, Alastor felt a surge of pride and desire. When the alpha grabbed for his head, the omega didn’t flinch at his touch.

This, he realized, was what it meant to truly want someone. To give oneself freely, joyfully. And in that moment, Alastor knew he never wanted to stop.

"Oh fuck, Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his voice trembling. "That feels so fucking good."

So the alpha wasn’t the most articulate dirty talker—then again, every word had left Alastor’s brain when he was the one being pleasured. He would have to amend that.

Alastor pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Does it now?" he teased, his tongue darting out to trace along Lucifer's length.

“Yes.” Lucifer's hips bucked involuntarily.

Alastor cupped the head of Lucifer’s cock in his hand, giving it all of his tongue’s attention.

“Tell me, how much you love my mouth on you.”

“Fuck, Alastor…the way ya talk. ” Lucifer whined. Though the omega didn’t take it easy on him—he swallowed the alpha’s cock down again.

The omega purred against his length, his own long fingers fitting to the tattooed feather tips along the alpha’s pale thighs. He’d been upset at Lucifer for being a tease. But he also knew how much the alpha liked the sound of his voice.

Alastor took his time, savoring every reaction, every desperate touch. He alternated between slow, languid strokes and more intense attention, driving Lucifer to the edge and then backing off.

"Do you like how I sound when I’m sucking your cock?” He grinned, feeling how his voice roughened with every intrusion down his throat. “Ask me, alpha. Ask to come down my throat.”

"Alastor," Lucifer panted, his hands now gripping the sheets with that busing strength. "I'm close…I can't…"

Taking pity on the alpha, Alastor increased his efforts, bringing Lucifer to a shuddering climax. He felt the alpha’s come, thick and hot, down his throat.

The taste nearly brought back every other memory—but Alastor refused to allow it.

As Lucifer came down from his high, Alastor moved up to lie beside him, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Belying the familiar, dirty feeling after he’d been made use of.

Lucifer pulled him close, kissing him deeply. Like there was nothing filthy about the taste on Alastor’s tongue.

"That was…fuck you’re amazing," he murmured against Alastor's lips.

The omega leaned into him, kissing him hard, desperate. There was something…he needed. Needed more of.

But he could feel the alpha’s exhaustion as he rested a hand on the blonde’s chest.

“Y’alright?” Lucifer asked, and there was a sluggishness to the way he spoke that made Alastor bite his bottom lip, settling for nuzzling up along the alpha’s cheek.

“Yes, of course.”

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer said at once, his cozy laziness gone as he turned towards him on the bed.

“Nothing, it’s nothing like that,” Alastor said quickly, pressing his still slick thighs together. Before the confession fell off his tongue. “I just…I feel empty now…”

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting Alastor's. Before that frown tugged back into a smile. “I think…I can help with that.” Alastor’s brow furrowed, wondering how—when those tattooed fingers wound their way back between his legs.

Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. This hope bloomed in his chest. Just craving more of the alpha’s time, and attention, and his affection.

Lucifer obliged without Alastor having to beg.

"Can I…?" Lucifer whispered, his hand sliding higher.

Alastor nodded, enthralled. "Please."

With exquisite care, Lucifer eased his fingers back inside Alastor, eliciting a soft gasp. He moved slowly, reverently, curling those digits—not to stroke and drag more pleasure from him. But just stay inside him…like a knot.

"Is this okay?" Lucifer murmured, pressing gentle kisses along Alastor's jaw.

"More than okay," Alastor breathed, relaxing against the alpha again. "It's perfect."

Their lips met in a tender kiss that quickly deepened, conveying unspoken emotions.

Lucifer gathered Alastor in his arm and pulled him close. They lay entwined, a tangle of limbs and shared warmth.

As Alastor gazed into Lucifer's eyes, the world seemed to fall away. His heart raced, not from exertion, but from a sudden, overwhelming realization.

“…I never knew it could be like this.”

The words hung in the air, charged with emotion. Alastor's chest tightened with elation and terror coursing through him.

Lucifer's eyes widened, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "Alastor…"

The omega closed his eyes, because he could bear to pull away…as much as he couldn’t bear to be seen.

He felt Lucifer slide his arm from under him, threading their fingers together to press a kiss to his knuckles.

And Alastor finally relaxed in another’s hold.

🎶When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do You’re my dream come true, my one and only you

(one and only you)🎶

🎙️ "Ah, you send me, darling... and we’ll see where love leads with Sam Cooke’s ‘You Send Me’ next." 🎙️

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