#can someone connect these dots for me i feel like i'm close to something
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transmascutena · 5 months ago
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something about mikage leaving ohtori through "graduating" vs utena leaving through being "expelled". something about akio letting mikage go because he's fulfilled his purpose vs utena being thrown out because she refused to fulfill hers. something about being rewarded for participating "correctly" in the system vs being punished for refusing to. but how ultimately your fate is the same either way.
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front-facing-pokemon · 1 year ago
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#registeel#and now this guy is maybe a bit less interesting. from this standpoint‚ i mean. the eyes being just dots make it a little hard to like#feel *connected* to them when they're ffp'd‚ y'know? i feel like it's kind of a reductive angle. which is why i zoomed this one and the last#one out a bit. so you can see a bit of the rest of their body. it's maybe less funny but would it really have been funny to just see 7 red#dots on a gray background and have to read the tag to know it's registeel? i dunno. maybe. maybe it would've been. but i like this more#maybe the explanation is that i'm taking these pictures myself. i personally know all these pokémon and have to ask them if i have permissio#n to take these pictures of them. but registeel said i couldn't get too close. so we settled with this. hehe yeah that's why :) hehe :)#anyway. you now have the aegis cave theme stuck in your head#hi it's me from the present. saturday morning. in yesterday's queued post i came up with the idea of maybe doing a monotype run of a pokémon#game. i don't know which one yet but i wanted to do water-type. but i was like. maybe i'll liveblog it on my main blog. yesterday#and today i came back and saw those tags as i was queuing up today's 'mons and i was like… hell maybe i could stream it if enough folks are#interested. but if anyone is then i didn't want to wait that long for the queue to get to that post bc that's gonna post on like. august 18#and class for my last semester of college Ever starts back up on august 21st and i don't. know if i want to start another pokémon playthroug#h that close to classes starting. especially not one where at least one (1) individual out there might be waiting for it So i put 'em here#they'll still be on that post but. they're here. just in case someone out there is chronically bored enough that that's something they'd be#interested in. y'never know there's a lot of folks here#anyway i will now queue up kricketot. see you then… or i guess see you whenever if you like send in an ask or a message or smth…
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auggieblogs · 11 months ago
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Secret Santa | f1 grid Instagram au
f1 grid x driver! reader
* ੈ✩‧₊˚ doing their first secret santa segment with the grid
Author's note: Hello, loves. Hope you all are doing good. Now that the Secret Santa video is out I can finally upload this fic. This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, I was expecting it to be better but that's okay. I'm going to serve with my next fic, promise. Happy reading, everyone:))
―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist
The winter air was filled with festive cheer as the Formula 1 paddock prepared for its annual Secret Santa exchange. As a rookie, it was your first time participating in this heartwarming tradition and you were excited, to say the least. The camera crew followed you, capturing every moment leading up to the big reveal of your Christmas gift.
The media team had already hinted that your gift was something extraordinary, a collective effort from the entire grid. The box was larger than expected, and you could feel the curiosity building up.
Lifting the lid, you were met with an array of dog toys, dog clothes, and even some dog food. A chuckle escaped your lips as you examined the peculiar assortment. "Interesting," you remarked, holding up a tiny doggie shirt to the camera. "I doubt that's going to fit me, but I really appreciate the thought, everyone."
Laughter echoed around you, and you took the lighthearted gift in stride, knowing the Secret Santa segment was known for its humorous nature.
Behind the scenes, someone from the camera crew spoke up, letting you know that this was only half of your present. Perplexed, you turned toward the camera, curiosity etched across your face. Then, from behind you, emerged a crew member carrying a small, fluffy golden retriever puppy in his arms.
Your eyes widened in disbelief, and a hushed "no, no, no" escaped your lips as you connected the dots. The reality sunk in, and you moved back, your hand covering your mouth in sheer disbelief. "Say sike right now," you pleaded, almost unable to comprehend what was in front of you. The response was a firm denial, confirming that the puppy was indeed your Secret Santa gift from the entire grid.
You gingerly accepted the puppy into your arms, cradling it close to your chest. "Oh, you're so small," you cooed, a mixture of laughter and happy tears streaming down your face. The puppy reciprocated with wet kisses, and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of this unexpected gift.
As you revel in the joy of the moment, a voice from behind the camera interrupted, "Do you like your gift?" You nodded vigorously, still cradling the puppy in your arms. "I love him so, so much," you replied, sniffling.
Finally, you noticed a note nestled among the dog toys. With the puppy still in your arms, you delicately unfolded the note, "Happy Christmas, Y/N. You are collectively everyone's favourite on the grid. Hope you like the puppy, he's just like you," the note read and was signed by all the drivers.
Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked into the camera. "Thank you, everyone. I love all of you. This is the best Christmas ever." You lifted the puppy so that he could face the camera too, and the collective "awws" echoed around the paddock.
The person behind the camera couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to name him?" You pondered for a moment before deciding, "He looks like a Lenny, no?"
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
yourusername
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liked by f1, landonorris and 287,120 others
yourusername Lenny SnoopDawg Y/L in da house😎
comments:
username lmao he's so silly
username kissies on da face!!!!
username can't believe the drivers gifted a golden retriever, an actual golden retriever smh
landonorris I CALL GODFATHER
charles_leclerc Uh back the fuck up. I am the godfather
landonorris You didn't call it though, snoozers losers😘
logansargeant Sorry to break it to you guys but Y/N said her favourite gets to be the godfather, so it's actually me
oscarpiastri Mate, do you ever get tired of being wrong? I'm obviously her favourite
landonorris sources: trust me bro
carlossainz55 I just feel like someone who's actually experienced with dogs should get to be the godfather
mickschumacher So you mean, me? Awh Carlos, thank you
carlossainz55 No.
landonorris I'm real experienced with dogs
yourusername yes, we all remember Uno
albon_pets not to be bias or anything but @alex_albon is great with pets
charles_leclerc That is in fact very bias
albon_pets we are not talking to you dude😠
maxverstappen1 Can I be the father?
logansargeant PAUSE
georgerussell63 Hold up, HOLD THE FUCK UP
yourusername I-is that a flirtation?????
username what the dog doin
username bet lenny is a better driver than me
f1 You should never let your dog drive a car. Soon they'll get better than you and start competing in formula 1😟
username LMAOOO ADMIN PLEASEEEEE
username happened to my buddy eric once
roscoelovescoco IS THAT WHY I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE ANYMORE?
oscarpiastri that's my car he's driving btw
username Lenny is the goddest boy☹️
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arlertwhore · 4 months ago
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draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7
completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.
warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.
synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.
word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)
Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!
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Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"
She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.
You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"
And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."
You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.
You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.
The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.
You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.
She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.
"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."
Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before. 
And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.
You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.
Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.
So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.
"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.
"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.
"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."
There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.
Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture  has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your  defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.
"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.
"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.
"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.
"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape. 
You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.
She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.
"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.
Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate. 
"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.
You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."
You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.
"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot). 
Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-" 
"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.
Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.
Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.
Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.
By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.
Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"
She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.
When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."
You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.
You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.
"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team." 
Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.
"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness,  and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.
"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet,  by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.
Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.
When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room.  Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.
"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.
"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes. 
"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player." 
Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.
Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.
"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.
"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension. 
"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.
Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe." 
Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.
The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.
Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.
"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.
It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.
"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut." 
Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.
"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.
Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.
She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.
"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.
You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.
You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.
The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.
Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.
"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."
You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.
"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.
"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.
She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."
You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.
The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.
"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.
With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.
And just like that, you fall back in.
You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.
Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.
And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.
"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.
Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"
It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."
Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.
Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.
Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.
You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."
She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.
You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.
Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.
You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.
You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.
"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.
The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.
Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.
It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.
Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.
"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.
You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.
The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.
"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.
This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."
She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.
"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this."  With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.
"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.
The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.
When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."
Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."
It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.
Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."
That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.
"Is that so?"
In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."
"Do it."
Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"
You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.
She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.
With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.
"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.
The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.
"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.
"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.
Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.
It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.
Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.
You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.
"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"
Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."
When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"
She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.
Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.
"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"
Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.
You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement. 
You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.
And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.
"Good."
MASTERLIST
AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍
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lycheeloving · 8 months ago
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a concept I've been rotating in my head for a really long time now is an AU where the entire Justice League is yandere... with multiverse stuff, because I'm still me <3
They have some sort of machine in the Watchtower that can be used to contact and monitor other universes and even open portals, they've been in contact with a bunch of other Justice Leagues and help each other out in case of extreme emergencies.
However, they all spend a lot of time at the machine doing things unrelated to what it's supposed to be used for. They each watch a different civilian in a different universe, are basically obsessed with them, you could even say they're stalking them... They all try to do this secretly, as they're aware that this isn't exactly behavior that's seen as normal and healthy (and morally sound). Some of them are more successful at hiding it than others.
I imagine Batman would be the first to connect the dots that they're all obsessed with someone, gather evidence of everyone doing this, call everyone to a meeting and confront them with said evidence, only to then reveal that he's been doing the same thing...
And then he suggests bringing their obsessions here, as this behavior has caused them all to be distracted and get worse at their Justice League business, but if their darlings were here, they would no longer have to worry if they were safe or not! Additionally, as they're all from different universes, nobody would think to accuse the Justice League of this universe to be responsible for the kidnappings, nobody would be able to even connect the dots that the kidnappings are related! Batman tries to make it seem like he's suggesting this because he's worried about their performance, and not because he wants to get his darling closer to him, close enough to finally touch.
Everyone eagerly agrees, of course (after getting over the embarrassment of "Oh shit, Batman saw me stalking someone"). After some preparations, like choosing and remodeling rooms so the objects of their affections will hopefully feel comfortable being kept there (well, as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances), they all work together to discreetly relocate all of their darlings from their original universes to their new home, the Watchtower in this universe.
Each darling gets their own room (that they share with their yandere, of course), but there's also rooms that are accessible to all of them, like a living room, a kitchen, etc, so they don't have to be alone when their yandere is out on patrol.
Everyone in the League tries to justify it to themselves by repeating how they're helping so many people, they've never asked for anything in return, they deserve this, but subconsciously they're all aware that what they're doing is not ok, they just don't care enough about that to stop. It's too late for that now anyways, their darlings are already here, they can't just return them!
I want to write something about what it's like to be the darling of the different members of the league at some point (and about the darlings escaping], but that might take a while, we'll see. Feel free to suggest Justice League members I should include though, I haven't quite decided about who exactly I want to be involved in this AU (other than the obvious Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. and probably Flash)
I've already written for: Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Superman
date night
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smoooothoperator · 5 months ago
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What Was I Made For?
06: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart
Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: time skip (three months), Sebastian Stan, race inchident, crash, hospital
a/n: Hiiii!!!How is your life going??? I have to thank my lovely @alltoomaples for being the beta reader of this chapter :3 thank you!! And I just have to warn that this is the start of the real deal!
Masterlist
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3 months later. Abu-Dhabi GP.
“Are you sure it's okay if we're seen together?”
After that charity event, where I had an anxiety attack and Sebastian came to help me, the two of us somehow got closer. We exchanged numbers and he texted me every day asking me how I was doing, if I felt better or if I had an anxiety attack again. And that concern turned into something more as weeks passed by, ending in something like a situationship.
“Of course. They should mind their own business” I smiled. “You came to support me”
He smiled and nodded, pressing a light kiss on my head and grabbing his backpack, getting ready to leave the hotel room to go to the track.
Avoiding Charles in Maranello was easy, I only had to look at the schedule and go whenever he wasn't there or even being in the same building but making sure I didn't see him at all. During race weeks was harder, because our garages were next to each other and the team briefings were in the same room, but that didn't stop me from sitting on the other side of the table and ignoring him.
And now that the season was finally ending, I could finally breathe in peace knowing that the only time I'll see him after this race is going to be at the team dinner.
I got out of the hotel room with Sebastian behind me holding my hand, squeezing it softly as we walked towards the elevator. The last three months with him were amazing, he always supported me even if he had to be away filming, sending me gifts or calling me before a race.
“This is the last race of the season, right?” he asked. “Why don't we go somewhere to have a week alone, only the two of us? Maybe somewhere warm?”
“That sounds amazing” I smiled looking at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek and hugging his arm.
If someone ever told me that I could do something like this with the one and only Sebastian Stan, I would tell them that they had drugs on their drink. But here I am, waking up next to him some mornings and feeling his touch all over my body.
I knew there were rumors about us. Some people somehow connected dots and started saying that Sebastian and I were dating. And the comments are everything but good. I had haters all over my career, but since that night of September the hate started to get worse, making fans get creative and make comments about everything I did: be with someone older than me, going to fashion events, trying to start a clothing brand. 
“You are tense” Sebastian said while we walked towards my car. 
“I'm okay, it's just… I'm tired” I smiled weakly. “It's been a long season, all I need is to rest”
“Are you sure?” he sighed. “It's just… Lately you've been so tired, Dafne. And I worry about you”
“Don't worry, really” I smiled, squeezing his hand softly. “After this race I'm all yours, okay?”
He smiled softly and nodded, kissing my temple and getting in the Ferrari. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing myself for what is about to come once I'm near the track. I swallowed thickly, feeling tears burning my eyes and the knot of my neck not letting me breathe. 
I can do this, just one more day. I can handle this. Another day or hearing the crowd roaring, engineers talking to me asking me to push more and more, fake smiles to the photographers. Just one more day until I can disappear for a while and come back stronger to fight Charles.
I sighed, opening the door and sitting on the driver seat, looking at Sebastian and smiling weakly. This will be the first time he will come to a race, and even if we made clear to the other that what we had right now was everything we wanted, I was still nervous about what people would think and assume, how he would react to the hate.
“It will be okay, yeah?” he smiled looking at me, placing his hand on my knee and squeezing it softly. “The race will end before you know it and then you won't have to be around him for some months”
I smiled weakly and nodded, driving towards the track. My grip on the steering wheel is tight, with my mind working nonstop about the different scenarios of what will happen once my car appears near the track, with all those fans there waiting for the drivers. Will they be respectful? Will they scream profanities? Will they hate seeing Sebastian next to me? The hate will be towards me or towards him? 
I clenched my jaw when I started to see all the people behind the barriers, taking pictures of the cars that drove in front of them, calling the names of the drivers. I recognized Lando's car in front of mine, and I could hear the fans calling him, excited to see him. But when I drove pass them, the turned their heads to look at the car behind me.
“God, not even taking pictures of this beauty?” Sebastian said, trying to cut the tension. “Come on, this car is amazing, when will be the next time they'll see a Ferrari Roma?”
“This is Abu Dhabi, Seb” I smiled weakly. “They have supercars in every corner…”
I looked at him smiling weakly. I know he tries to cheer me up, but it's not the first time they do this. I'm already used to being ignored.
“My family will be in the hospitality during the race, you want to be with them?” I asked him, changing the subject.
“Don't mind me, I love your family, they are great” he smiled. “But… I want to be in the garage. I-if that's okay with you, of course. I want to experience a race inside of the garage”
“Yeah of course” I smiled. “You'll have to stay in the back, but… Yeah, sure”
He smiled and nodded, biting his lip and looking at the front.
What people will if they see him in the garage? What will media say? 
I swallow thickly and park the car, taking deep a deep breath before opening the door. Sebastian got out after me, looking all the time at me. I grabbed my backpack and locked the car, looking around. 
“Go ahead” Sebastian smiled, nodding. “I'll be okay. It's just scanning the pass and then I have to walk to the big red building, right?”
“Yeah” I nodding, grabbing tightly the backpack. “I'll see you there”
I took a deep breath and walked away, wanting to go back and kiss his lips, but I knew people had their cameras ready to picture every move I made. So, instead of that, I walked alone with the biggest fake smile I could make, scanning my pass and walking through the paddock, letting the photographers take pictures of me. 
Chin up, bitch smile, walk straight.
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During most part of the day I felt nauseous. And my chest hurt. 
“Probably your period will come soon” my sister Soleil said. “You want me to give you some vitamins?”
“Yeah, sure” I nodded, moving my shoulders in circles to warm up. “And give me a cold jacket before I go to the anthem”
The last few days I have been feeling weird, true. My breasts were more sensitive and I felt swollen. 
“Thank God this is the last race if the season” I sighed.
Sebastian was out of my room with the rest of my family while Soleil helped me get ready for the race. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed, slipping the fireproof shirt inside the leggings.
“Yeah, probably it's the period” I sighed looking at my abdomen. 
I walked out of the room with the suit hanging on my hips, grabbing the bottle of water and walking towards my family and Sebastian. I saw Charles' family near, and I just smiled weakly at them before hugging Sebastian.
“You ready?” he smiled, kissing the top of my head and rubbing my back. 
“Yeah, I'm just a little nauseous” I smiled weakly. “Probably I shouldn't have eaten that yogurt from earlier…”
“I'm sure it's nothing” my mom smiled. “You always get nervous in the last race of the season, is normal”
I nodded and smiled weakly, hugging Sebastian tighter as he rubbed my back, comforting me. 
I heard Charles walking out of his room and I tensed immediately. I can't avoid him always, we are in the same team, even if we hate it.
“I have to go make the team photos” I sighed, kissing Sebastian's jaw. “The race is in an hour, you can go to the garage now”
“Okay” he smiled kissing my forehead.
I smile looking at him walk away, biting my lip when I heard my sisters giggling. I rolled my eyes and grab the helmet Erica was holding for me.
“What would say the Dafne of a year ago?” she smirked.
“About what?” I laughed.
“Well, look at you and Sebastian” she smiled. 
“Yeah, well” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “We are not dating”
“Yet” she smirked.
“We are too busy for that” I sighed.
I walked out of the hospitality and went towards the garage, smiling weakly when I saw Sebastian already with a headset hanging on his neck. I walked towards him and smiled.
“You'll be okay here?” I asked him.
“Of course I'll be” he smiled, holding my helmet while I zipped the suit. “Smile, okay?”
“Yeah” I sighed, smiling weakly and grabbing the helmet, following all the workers that were walking towards the stands where the picture will be taken.
Charles was already there, following me with his eyes. He was already sitting in the tyre of his car, with his helmet resting on his thigh. I ignored his eyes and sat on the tyre of my car, looking at the camera with my helmet on my thigh, wishing this would end fast so I could take a lap on my car to place it on the grid. 
“Are you okay?”
I frown, turning my head slowly and looking at Charles standing next to me. I laughed loudly, standing up. Did he really ask that?
“As if you cared” I laughed. 
“You look pale. If you get sick today it won't be good for the team” he frowned.
“Mind your own shit, Leclerc” I said. “What I do is none of your business”
I walked away fast before he could talk to me more, not wanting to interact with him at all. I got inside of my car and after the track was clear, I drive to the postion I'm starting the race. 
But things do not always go how I planned. The moment I got out of the car he was already there, looking at me with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Fuck off” I groaned. 
“I heard you throw up this morning, Morelli” he frowned. “Remember our rooms are next to the other”
“So? Am I not allowed to feel sick?” I scoffed.
“Today is an important race for the team, Dafne!” he exclaimed. “If we want to keep the second position of the championship we have to be in the podium. And if you are not feeling well, that won't happen”
“Come on, don't make me laugh” I frowned. “I drove multiple races having the period, with cramps making me want to get out of the fucking car and curl in my bed! And did I do it? No, right? So shut the fuck up, focus on your own race and leave me alone”
I groaned, hugging the helmet and starting to walk away. But again, he's not satisfied with making me mad, so he keeps opening his mouth.
“Why did you bring that dude?”
I frown, turning around on my heels and frowning. 
“Oh, now we are talking about my private life?” I laughed. 
“He's too old for you” he frowned. 
“Oh my God, shut up!” I exclaimed, walking closer to him. “Do you have something else to say? At least I am with someone that has a brain and a job and doesn't need my money to be someone. Oh, and he is way better in bed than you, asshole”
I saw him clenching his jaw as well as his fist, and I knew that it hurt him. Groaning, I turned around and walked towards the garage to have one last meeting with my engineers to have everything ready before the race.
I walked towards Sebastian once the meeting was done and he welcomed me with that shy smile he always has. He was on my side of the garage, opening his arms slowly as I walked closer to him.
“Are you ready?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist while I hugged his neck, playing with the baby hairs of his nape. 
“I am” I sighed. “And you?”
“I’m excited to see my girl being an absolute badass out there” he smiled, making me freeze after I heard those words.
“Your girl?” I whisper. “S-Seb…”
“I know” he sighed, pressing his lips on my forehead. “We’ll talk after this, okay? Come back to me with the big trophy”
“I will” I smiled, playing with the hair of his nape and standing on my tip toes to press a fast kiss on his lips. “I have to go”
“Yeah” he smiled. “You’ll do amazing”
He unwrapped his arms from my waist, pressing another soft kiss on my lips before I walked away, with Soleil joining me on the grid.
“And that big smile?” she teased me, handing me the cold jacket and helping me put it.
“Well, Sebastian called me his girl” I chuckled softly. “I think tonight we are going to talk about… Well, us”
“Finally! Arthur owes me money!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
“What? Did you make a bet with him? Why?” I frowned, confused, but somehow that smile didn’t disappear from my lips.
“Because it was obvious you two would end up together” she said. “He said it was going to be during the winter break, but I just said that it was going to be for sure tonight after the race”
“Idiots” I laughed, shaking my head.
The national anthem played, and I took my position alongside the other drivers. My mind was a spiral of thoughts and emotions. The weight of the season, the pressure of the race, and the looming conversation with Sebastian were all battling for dominance in my head. But most of all, I felt an inexplicable sense of unease in my body.
As the anthem concluded, my dizziness started creeping into my body. I blinked hard, trying to focus on the task ahead. Just one more race and I will rest.
The cars roared to life, and the anticipation in the air was electric. I strapped myself into my seat, hands gripping the wheel. Sebastian's words echoed in my mind, giving me a strange mix of comfort and determination. I glanced towards the garage, knowing he would be there, biting his lip like he always does when he’s nervous about something.
The race started, and I pushed all doubts aside. My car flew down the track, driving through the early chaos of the race with precision. But as the laps progressed, the dizziness got worse. Each turn required more concentration, each acceleration felt more hard.
On the 44th lap, I found Esteban Ocon in front of me. He had to let me pass because he had the blue flag. But he was fighting me, defending like he was defending his position.
“What the hell is he doing?” I groaned. “He has to let me pass! Fucking idiot!”
“Stay calm, Dafne. We sent the report to the stewards” my engineer said.
Some seconds after he seemed to understand that he couldn't fight, maybe he even received a penalty, so I just drove next to him, showing him my middle finger as I overtook him.
But then it happened.
He didn't give me enough space, making his front wing clip my rear tire, sending my car spinning out of control. I struggled to regain control, but the dizziness made it nearly impossible. The world around me tilted and swayed, the track blurring as I fought with the steering wheel.
I hit the barriers hard, the impact shaking my entire body. Pain exploded in my head, and the last things I remembered were the deafening sound of crunching metal, the voices of my engineer and Fred in my ears and the crowd screaming terrified before everything went black.
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The sound of the beeping of a machine next to me was the first thing I heard when I started to wake up. Then I held the weight of another hand holding mine. When I started to take deep breaths, the smell of hospital and Sebastian's perfume filled my lungs, making me open my eyes and search for him with my eyes.
“S-Seb” I croaked, feeling a wave of pain in my neck when I moved my head.
“You are awake” he said softly, relief flooding his voice.
“What…”
“You had a crash” he sighed, smiling weakly. “Ocon lost control of his car and crashed into you… You've been unconscious for some hours, Daf…”
“The race” I mumbled, nervous.
 “There was a red flag” he explained, rubbing my hand softly. “Until they took your car out of if the barriers and they translated you to the helicopter”
“Who won? The championship…” I mumbled concerned. “We lost it…”
“Fuck the championship. You could have died, Dafne” he sighed. 
I swallowed thickly, looking away and closing my eyes, the memories coming back in fragments, repeating in my mind over and over again. The race, the dizziness, the impact.
“My family?” I whispered, swallowing thickly.
“I sent them to the hotel” he sighed. “They have been here since you arrived and they needed to rest, Dafne. I'll call them later, okay?”
Some minutes later, after Sebastian pressed a button, a doctor entered the room with a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, holding a file and pressing it against her chest.
"Miss Morelli, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked, checking the monitors.
“Like I got hit by a truck” I sighed, smiling weakly.
“It's totally understandable. You had a severe concussion and some minor injuries, but nothing too serious" he said. "However, there is something else we need to discuss. We ran some tests to make sure everything was okay after the crash”
“Okay… and? How did they come out?” I asked confused, nervously.
“You are pregnant” the woman said, opening her file and showing me what looked like an ultrasound. “Three months pregnant, to be more precise”
“W-what?” I mumbled.
 "The baby seems to be doing fine despite the crash, but you'll need to take it easy for a while.”
Pregnant. No. No, it can't be. Sebastian and I always used protection. Always. And I am on the pill.
“It's imposible” I said, looking at Sebastian and then back at the doctors. “No, I'm sure it's a mistake. I can't be pregnant. I'm on the pill! We use protection!”
“There are many possibilities, Miss Morelli” the woman said. “The condom could break… I saw in your medical file that you've got prescripted some antibiotics three months ago because of a throat infection. The antibiotics can take down the effects of the pill…”
The woman kept talking and talking, Sebastian's grip in my hand was tighter. But my mind only could repeat that scene from three months ago. 
“Please, leave me alone” I mumbled, making the woman stop talking. 
She and the other doctor nodded and walked out, closing the door behind them.
Three months. My mind raced, trying to piece it together. The timing... it couldn't be. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. Anger, disgust, fear, panic.
“Talk to me” I heard Sebastian whisper, squeezing my hand again. “Dafne, please say something”
“I don't know what to say” I whisper, feeling my throat closing with panic.
“We can do this together, okay?” he smiled weakly. “Maybe this wasn't how we wanted, but… God, Dafne, the past few months made me realize that I really like you”
“Sebastian…”
“I know it's not the perfect timing, but I promise I will take care of you two, hm? I can take a break from filming, we can… We can buy a house, what do you think? So our baby can grow up happy. Yeah, we can do that. We will live together, hm?”
“Sebastian”
He's going to hate me. 
“And I know you might not like it, but you can't race…”
Oh, that was what broke me.
“It's not yours!” I exclaimed.
“What?” he mumbled, the smile on his lips disappearing slowly.
“This baby” I whisper. “It's not yours. It's Charles'”
Sebastian's grip on my hand tightened slightly, but he didn't say anything immediately. I could see the hurt flicker across his face, masked by a veil of confusion.
“That fucking idiot” I spat, feeling the anger burning in my veins, getting rid of his grip in my hand. “Of all people it had to be him! Why?!”
“Dafne, calm down…” I heard Sebastian say.
“Calm down? Calm down?!” I exclaimed.
“We'll do this together, okay?” he said, trying to reach my hand again. “I'll be next to you-”
“No” I said quickly. “Leave me alone”
“Dafne…”
“I said leave me alone!” I said louder. “Get out, please! Get out! I don't need your pitty, I don't need you!”
He clenched his jaw, looking at me with pain in his eyes. But that pain is nothing compared to the one I'm feeling right now.
“I need to be alone” I whispered, feeling a wave of panic.
Sebastian hesitated for a moment, hurt and confusion filling in his eyes. Finally, he nodded silently and stood up, his shoulders down, defeated. He paused at the door, casting one last worried glance at me before leaving the room.
Alone in the hospital bed, the anger that had fueled my outburst began to disappear, leaving behind a terrible ache. I felt disgusted. Disgusted at the situation, at Charles, at myself for letting this happen. How could I have been so careless? How could I have let him go this far?
The tears that I had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing silent paths down my cheeks. I was scared of what this pregnancy meant for my career, for my relationship with Sebastian, for everything I had worked so hard to achieve.
I was so lost. I will lose my career. My family will be disappointed. The team, the media will hate me. Sebastian probably hates me, I'm not carrying his child.
What am I going to do?
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taglist
@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots
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authorhjk1 · 9 months ago
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Love your writing! It's so immersive and gets me soo turned on
Can I request Blackpink Lisa used as a public free use toy?
Thank you! I hope you enjoy this:
"She isn't home yet."
Rosé furrows her brows.
"But the both of us finished recording together."
Jennie shrugs her shoulders.
"Let her be. She is a grown woman."
"I'm gonna call her. She said she would be home, after we left for lunch."
Jennie stops Jisoo from taking out her phone.
"I bet she is completely fine, unnie. You almost sound like a overprotective mother."
"I'm not."
Jisoo crosses her arms in front of her body.
"Lisa is fine."
The older girls look at Rosé, who is showing them her phone.
"She just uploaded a picture on Instagram."
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With a satisfied nod, Jisoo walks into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Jennie zooms in on Lisa's picture.
Why did Lisa change clothes? She had a different jeans on this morning.
A knowing smile forms on Jennie's lips, connecting the dots. Lisa is trying to usurp Jennie's position inside the company.
10 minutes ago:
Lisa closes her eyes, a big smile on her face. The meeting has finally ended, time for her reward. She worked the last thirty minutes for this.
The five men in the room get out of their seats, before walking towards the end of the table.
Lisa is already lying on the wooden surface, her head hanging off the edge. As she hears the guys coming closer, she opens her mouth.
Only a couple of moments later, Lisa feels warm liquid stain her face. Five loads of cum hit her skin, eyelids, lips, mouth and tongue. She has been sucking them off throughout the whole meeting, kneeling underneath the large conference table.
It takes a couple of moments, until all of them have finished on her face. Lisa gasps, before letting her tongue clean the cum that has landed around her mouth.
Her eyelids are heavy with cum. As the young idol starts to wipe it off with her finger, she hears the five guys walk out of the room.
Lisa keeps lying on the table. Enjoying the aftermath of the meeting. She keeps cleaning her own face, licking their cum off her fingers. Not the entire company knows what she does. Rather 85%. That's why Lisa is still somewhat cautious. She doesn't want to run into the CEO while her face is covered with loads of cum.
Something similar happened already. Luckily, the two guys in the recording studio didn't seem to mind at all. Lisa came in with two loads on her face. And she left with two inside her pussy.
After taking the first picture, Lisa notices that she missed a spot. But it seems like no one noticed, while she walked towards the restroom.
She cleans it with her tongue while taking another picture.
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As soon as she sees the result, Lisa feels even hornier than thirty minutes ago, when on of the five men told her to get under the table and "do her job".
And the fact that Jennie is the only other person from Blackpink, who knows what's going on, turns her on even more.
So much so that Lisa needs something inside of her. Right now.
She quickly leaves the restroom, searching for the ideal spot. She can't just strip in the hallway and wait for someone to fuck her right there. She isn't as much of a slut as Jennie. And she doesn't have time for that.
Entering the elevator, she bows to the three people inside.
"Hi Lisa, how are you doing?"
"I'm doing well. How are you?"
She smiles at the two women who work on the fifth floor.
When her eyes land on the man standing behind them, she knows what is going to happen as soon as they are alone.
The number five lights up the small display on the wall. The two women leave the elevator. Not even waiting for the doors to close, the man starts to unbuckle his belt.
"Why are you not on your knees yet?"
"My bad, sir."
Lisa drops to the floor, a little worried about being caught.
The man's pants hit the floor quickly after. His cock springs free, landing on her face.
Lisa licks along it's length, before she starts to take it into one hand. She starts her blowjob, feeling the elevator going up.
"That's a good girl."
Lisa smiles with his cock in her mouth. Her tongue glides along his length, before his hand rests on the back of her head. The young woman only has a moment to brace herself.
He quickly starts to fuck her mouth. Lisa's gags fill the otherwise quiet elevator. Her hands rest on her thighs as she takes the rough treatment, trying to fit all of it inside her mouth and throat.
"Fucking hell."
He sighs after a couple of minutes, taking his cock out of her mouth.
Lisa is able to catch her breath as he slaps her cheeks with his member.
"Mr. Kwon told me how he fucked your ass this morning. Can't wait to find out if you are still tight enough to make me cum."
Lisa feels fade heat inside her ass as he reminds her of this morning. Her asshole hasn't been fucked this hard for the last couple of days.
"Where do you wanna go?"
"What do you mean?"
He lifts her off the ground, before turning her, Lisa's back facing him.
"Here? What if-"
"Jennie would love it."
Lisa immediately stops talking. She is better than Jennie. She won't just love this. She will make this her new thing. Getting fucked in the elevator.
She feels him pressing against her, pushing her face into the metal wall. Her jeans are off within seconds, exposing her lack of underwear. The plug with the small pink stone on it greets him as he slaps her right ass cheek.
"Mr. Kwon is so considerate. Making sure that everyone can enjoy your tight ass."
Lisa moans as she feels him slowly pulling out the anal plug. It has been inside of her for hours. Her hole is barely letting go.
The young idol feels him push inside of her just a second later.
"Fuck. How are you still this thight?"
"I'm doing my best, sir."
Lisa let's out a deep moan, when he starts to pound her ass. At first slow, than increasing his pace. The elevator starts to shake a little in the rhythm of his thrusts.
Her cheek is pressed against the wall, his hands knead her ass cheeks. Lisa feels how her nipples poke through her shirt, grazing against the cold metal.
In that moment, the elevator stops. Lisa closes her eyes, praying that it's not the CEO. The door opens.
No one says a thing. The door closes again as the man behind her keeps fucking her ass.
After three or four thrusts, he suddenly pulls out. Because her face is still pressed against the wall, Lisa doesn't know who got on. She hears someone fumbling with their belt. A moment later, she feels someone pushing past the tight ring of her puckered hole.
"So deep."
She can't help but moan. Lisa can feel how this cock is slightly longer, but also lacks a little in girth. Not that she is complaining. The first man started to bruise her insides already.
Despite not knowing who he is, Lisa feels him hitting new depths. He seems to rearrange her guts with every powerful thrust.
The first man watches as the new guy fucks Lisa into the wall. Her nails scratch at the surface, her eyes still shut tightly. The scene in front of him slowly brings him towards his orgasm.
"I need another turn."
The two men switch places.
"Fuck!"
Lisa yelps as he shoves his whole cock into her without warning. His thrusts are hard and deep, making her moan and squirm. She can feel him pulsating inside her ass.
"You make such a perfect cumdump."
Seconds later, he buries himself deep inside her asshole. Lisa moans as she feels his cum flood her insides.
"Fuck, that's hot."
The other guy talks for the first time, but Lisa doesn't know who he is.
Once the first man pulls out, he starts to put his pants back on. The second one let's his hands roam over Lisa's cheeks.
"Have fun."
As the door opens, the first man walks out, leaving her with the man behind her.
"Oh fuck!"
Lisa moans loudly as she feels him entering her again. As he fucks her, the other man's cum gets pushed even deeper into her. She can feel how the warm liquid makes its way through her body.
"Such a nice ass."
The man praises her, before giving each cheek a spank.
"You know, I was just about to call you after I saw your new picture."
He takes a step closer, which pushes him even further into her ass. Lisa is now completely filled. With a low groan, she has to stand on her tip toes.
"You don't need to clean your face after a facial. You're getting more than enough anyway."
With that, he pulls out.
Lisa feels how a trickle of the other man's cum leaks out of her ass. Most of it is so deep inside of her that it's gonna take days, until she is completely empty. Not taking into account that she might get her ass filled multiple times a day.
"Time for another one, whore."
He spins Lisa around. Her already weak knees are unable to support her weight. She slides down the wall, finally squatting. A moment later, the man paints her face with warm cum. It stains her nose and cheeks, until the last drops land on her lips. Lisa gladly licks off as much as she can, moaning at the taste.
The door opens, while Lisa is still recovering. The man walks out, not even looking back at her. Three more employees step inside. When they see her, they start to undo their belts. Lisa smiles up at them.
Jennie looks at the picture on her phone, an angry frown on her face. On of their stylists send her a picture of Lisa. Her face covered with cum. More leaking out of both of her other holes as she lies on the metal floor. The elevator? Jennie scoffs. Lisa really is a slut.
She can't loose this position. There are so many benefits to being the company's free use cumdump.
Jennie gets off her bed, opening her closet. She is looking for the skimpiest outfit she can find. She can't just sit back and watch. After a couple of minutes, Jennie finally finds something fitting.
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Her manager rings the doorbell. Maybe she can start by sucking him off on the way to the company?
Jennie smiles as she reaches for the doorknob.
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luveline · 2 years ago
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hey lovely! <3 can i request a little something for aaron hotchner? maybe something where he’s being jealous/protective? i adore the way you write him! :)
this is like a very mini fic it's all over the place ♡ thank you for your request!! fem!reader cw weird guy tries to kiss you
You're in New Jersey of all places trying to find a serial killer, and in your opinion, Hotch is being entirely unprofessional. 
You're also really enjoying it, but that's not the point. 
There's a police officer that isn't flirting with you, really, more like he's a touchy guy in general. You're working as the conduit between the team and the police force, and so every time you tell this touchy guy something, it's an opportunity for him to say thank you.
This guy says thank you with a quick shoulder touch. 
You feel guilty, admittedly. While Hotch isn't quite your boyfriend, he isn't not your boyfriend — you're working it out. Or rather, he's working it out. You'd walk into the middle of the road if he asked you to, but Hotch has hang ups about interwork relationships. He's hesitant because he worries about the inherent power imbalance between you. 
It's fine though. You're hoping he'll come around eventually. And eventually might come sooner rather than later, with the way he's glaring holes in this guy's head. 
"Is he making you uncomfortable?" Hotch asks you. 
The door closes behind your guilty police officer. You'd prefer it if the police officer didn't touch you at all, but he isn't necessarily making you uncomfortable.
"It's alright," you placate, feeling the eyes of both Spencer and Rossi on you like laser beams. 
Hotch nods and goes back to work. A small tell, and huge in the eyes of profilers. 
You get further into the case and forget about the guy's touches, but you don't think Hotch can. He sits next to you at every opportunity, and insists you ride shotgun on the way back to the hotel. You have separate rooms, wouldn't dream of ever sharing one with him, so it shocks you like lightning when he invites you in for 'coffee'. 
You sit on the end of his bed. 
"Are you mad at me?" you ask, a moment of weakness. 
He's very tense. Less so at your question, he pulls his weight off of the closed door and sits beside you on the bed. "Of course not." Then, because he's too smart and too himself to avoid the issue, "I'm sorry if I'm being forward." 
"I like you, Hotch. You know I do," you say. In lieu of, Be forward, please. You don't speak with any particular inflection. It's the stone cold truth, and you aren't mad at him for anything. Not his hesitancy to be with you, or his jealousy. 
"You don't think it's arrogant?" he asks. 
"I think it's kind of nice. It's reassuring," you amend softly, "to know you want me to yourself." 
That sounded better in your head. Thankfully, all Hotch does is nod. "I do." 
"Okay, good. You can keep glaring at Officer Paulson, then." 
He smiles at you, half defeat, half fondness. "His name is Poulton." 
"Is it?" 
His smile doubles. He places his hand across the sheets, palm up. You place your hand in his. 
"You really need to get it together," you joke lightly. 
"I know," he says. 
The next day, you're back in the conference room of the Cherry Hill police department, hand pretty much on fire still from his touch where its resting on the desk as you jot down notes. Each time you remember how he'd held it, you'd fingers curl in on themselves, looking for Hotch's hand and not finding it. 
You write down notes, not to be selfish, but because it really helps you connect the dots. You're not like Spencer, you can't store an infinite amount of knowledge up in your brain. You need space and time to work it out. 
A cup of coffee appears to your right. A hand presses flat to the space between your shoulder blades. You beam at the tiny thumb movements and turn in your seat. "Oh… my god. Officer Pauls-ton." You laugh awkwardly, shrugging out from under his hand. "I thought you were someone else." 
"I noticed you in here all by yourself and figured you could use some company." 
Even if you'd been alone, and you had wanted company, and this was a dimension where Hotch didn't exist, Poulton's hand absolutely should not have been where it was. Now you're uncomfortable. 
"Oh, no, that's alright. I'm just trying to make some connections here while everyone's out." 
What a terrible thing to admit. You can practically see the excitement on his face. 
"Yeah? They always leave the pretty one behind?" 
You laugh without meaning to. Usually, Spencer is the one running point, so he's technically right. "You could say that." 
"This all seems pretty boring."
You lean away as he leans forward. You're surprised — you've never been cornered like this, whether he means to do it or not. 
"It's my job," you explain. 
"Now why would a girl like you do something so gruesome?" 
"Uh-" You laugh clumsily, wondering how the fuck you're gonna get out of this situation. You start by standing up and turning to him completely, the backs of your thighs pressed against the desk you'd been working on hard enough to ache. "A girl like me? I love the work we do." 
"You don't find it boring?" 
"Sometimes, but-" 
"I can think of a few ways to liven it up in here." 
This is the kind of thing your girlfriend's have told you about, over-imposing creeps who use a facade of niceness to get close. Officer Poulton has known you for all of three days, and while you've been friendly, you've never given any indication that you want to be seduced in a public work space.
"No, I don't think so." 
"Come on, baby." 
He steps toward you, hands moving to take your waist. You side step around him, eyes on the door, and he follows. 
His fingers close around your wrist, and he says, "Where are you going?" 
You yank your hand away and glare at him, other hand behind you and opening the door. You close it between you. You want to call someone. One of your friends, your team. Your heart races. 
You can't tell if you were in danger or not. 
You make your way through the bullpen to the women's restroom and hide in one of the stalls, typing a quick text to Garcia, who's most likely to respond. 
Weirdo just tried to kiss me at CH PD. Hiding in the bathroom. Swear some guys see a polite smile and take it as enthusiasm. :[ 
You don't want her to panic, so you add, It's fine, though. How are things back home?
You spend a little time in there, as much as you can allow, hoping desperately that Officer Poulton has left the conference room so you can get back to work in peace. 
he did wt? R u ok??? wts his address?
The bathroom smells like bleach, and the toilet tank behind you drips. It's cold, and you feel an odd mixture of embarrassed and ashamed, though you don't have any reason to feel either. 
I must have said something to him, you think scornfully. Something that made him think- 
You shake your head. That guy's just an oddball. He saw signals where there weren't any. You didn't do anything wrong. 
After some mild internal debate you stand up to face the music. You're barely a step outside of the bathroom when you're bumping into Emily, who's expression floods with relief. 
"What happened?" she asks urgently. 
"What?" 
"Garcia said some guy came onto you? Officer Touchy?" Her eyes are sympathetic, her lips pinched into a friendly, pitying pout. 
You gawp. "She told you?" 
"What did he do?" 
"Nothing awful, he just- he put hid hand behind my back and I- he was leaning over me so I tried to leave and he grabbed my wrist. It wasn't anything more than that." 
"He grabbed you?" she asks. 
You look up to find Hotch a few paces behind. His expression is unreadable. His tone, less so. 
"Are you okay?" he asks, all the airs of someone taking pre-measures.
"I'm perfect. He barely touched me. I only told Penelope because I-" Why did you tell Penelope? "I don't know. He surprised me." 
"I'm going to speak to the Chief of police," he says. "If you'll be alright?" 
"I'm fine, there's really no need."
"It's disrespectful," Emily says, fiercely protective over her friends no matter what. "We're here to help them and you've got officers acting like frat boys." 
Hotch says your name, pulling both of your attentions. "You're sure you're okay?" 
You smile at him softly. It's good of him to be so concerned, but unnecessary. "I'm fine, I promise." 
He takes your word for it and turns around. Emily lets out a low whistle. 
"Someone's in for it," she says. 
You don't know how right she is until you hear his raised voice. Chills run down your spine at his tone, so formidable, so sternly contained.
"Touch my agent again and you'll be working desk jockey for the rest of your career. Do I make myself clear?" 
You can't hear it, but you imagine the answer is, "Clear."
That night, laid like two twin commas invested toward one another, you ask, "'My agent'?" 
"You're one of mine, aren't you?" Hotch asks quietly.
"But am I yours?" you ask. 
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, the bulk and curve of his bicep firm against your neck, and smiles, lips resting at the crown of your head. 
"Do you want to be?" he asks. 
You curl into his touch and embrace, warmed by his body heat and the blanket he's taken care to pull up to your chest. He smells like toothpaste and eucalyptus body wash, his hair still damp from the shower. You breathe him in indulgently, and you close your eyes to sleep without responding to his question. He already knows the answer. 
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dira333 · 8 months ago
Text
The sky is everywhere - Hawks x reader
A/N: requested by @misfit-megumi - Prompts are: "the sky is everywhere" and "I'm tired of love songs"
Warning: heavy angst to somewhat fluff. I just let my brain take the wheel
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“I′m so tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love…” You’re swaying a little as you sing, almost miss your mouth when you bring the bottle of wine back up to your lips. 
To call the last few months “rough” would have been an understatement. 
Something in you is begging you to go home, but that place doesn’t exist anymore.
Your formerly shared apartment feels more like a trap now. You don’t want to be in there, yet you just can’t move out. 
“Hey,” your friend’s grip is soft, cautious. Like you’re one of those hurt animals that might lash out. She thought it would be a good idea to party, try and meet somebody new. But two months is not nearly enough time to forget about someone you loved so deeply.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“I’m fine,” you argue, but you both know that’s a lie. You haven’t been fine in weeks. Not since…
“Can we do some shots?” You ask, dreading the moment you have to leave this place and face reality yet again. If you get hammered enough… maybe it will buy you some time.
They say Grief comes in stages. If that’s true, you’re still stuck in denial.
-
There is no place on earth where you’re free of the memories.
Even when all the blinds are closed and you’re lying in the dark, you can clearly see the twinkle in Keigo’s eyes. Hear him whistling low at your sight. Feel the caress of a single feather.
He left a few months ago. 
It wasn’t the first time he had to leave for an undercover mission. Not the first time he didn’t give you any information. 
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he said often, kissing your temple when you connected the dots yourself, came up to him with what you thought he was going to get into. You had been right every time.
So you knew to be scared when he packed his things this time.
Because he was going to infiltrate the League of Villains. 
“You should stop doing that,” he said, but there was no twinkle in his eye when he said it. He sounded tired, resigned to his fate. It should have been a warning.
You should have locked yourself in the spare bedroom, put your hands over your ears, and pretended you didn’t hear him.
But you didn’t. And he broke up with you.
Two days later he went officially missing. Some think he’s dead.
You don’t know what would hurt less.
-
The light is hurting your eyes. 
You close them and sink back into the pillows, no more willing to face the day than you have been yesterday.
The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol. If only you could fall back asleep but now that you’re awake, all the noises seem to increase by a tenfold. The clock is ticking so loud it feels like your head is vibrating. Someone in the apartment above you is showering and the water trickling down sounds like rainfall. Then there’s the smacking sound of your fridge door being closed-
Your eyes fly open but you blink against the pain as you try and regain your memories.
Did you bring someone home last night?
You wouldn’t, right?!
But there’s someone in your apartment, footsteps coming closer and closer.
You grab your pillow and push yourself up, the room spinning. The blinds are only partially open, leaving the doorway in the shadow. But what you can see is black and glistening, like leather-
Your scream cuts through the silence like the pillow soaring through the air. 
Your invader catches it with ease. When he lowers it and steps into the room, your breath catches in your throat.
You know those eyes.
“Keigo?” You ask, your voice scratchy. He’s wearing a black mask that covers almost all of his face. Bandages cover the rest of his head, but some of his hair is still peaking through, confirming your guess.
He nods slowly and drops the pillow to the floor. In his right hand is a bottle of water.
You want to ask, yell, beg him to stay… but all you can do is lean forward and empty your stomach.
-
It’s unnatural for Keigo to be this quiet.
It’s unnatural for you to be the same.
But if this is a fever dream, you don’t want to end it with your words.
Wordlessly he cleans the floor. Wordlessly he urges you to drink water and take the painkiller he found in the kitchen cabinet. 
Wordlessly he slips into bed with you and holds you, and you pretend that everything is okay.
It hurts even more when you wake up a second time and he’s gone yet again.
-
When he returns, almost a week later, after a press conference that shook the world, he’s no longer wearing the mask. His face is scared and the room painfully empty of his wings, his presence. He seems to have shrunken in on himself.
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he tells you, feet planted on your doorstep. You step aside to let him in, hoping that he will. He does. 
Neither of you talks about the topic at hand. To someone who doesn’t know your history, it might look like nothing ever happened. You cook dinner together, your hand raised to stop him from stealing the noodles out of the pot, plucking the chicken out of the pan before you can serve the food. You sink into him whenever he’s close, but neither of you addresses the question that needs to be asked.
At least until the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean and your body heavily sinks into the mattress, your heart longing for him to stay near.
“Would you take me back?” He whispers, quiet enough that you might have missed it, had you not been waiting for it.
“Would you?”
He shakes his head. You can feel the motion where his chin dishevels your hair. 
But isn’t that why the two of you have always been so great together? Because you do what he wouldn’t and he does what you never will?
Your hands find his arms, take hold of him in the only way you can. 
“If you ever break up with me again, I will make you regret it,” you say, though it’s an empty threat. He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amused.
“You already did.”
-
You’ve always been too clever for your own good.
Does it soothe the hurt to know he only broke up with you to keep you safe? No.
But it makes it easier to take him back.
One day, hopefully, he will realize that you’re safest when you’re with him.
But until then, you will try your best to hold him close.
My Kofi if you want to tip me
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mary-laib · 6 months ago
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OKAY WRITING ABOUT JWCT SHIPS TIME:
Sammy x Yasmina
10/10
I love their relationship and how they have come so far throughout cc and ct. Also less to do with the ship but I especially loved how Yasmina was shown in ct to have worked towards facing her fears and has gotten so much further than Sammy, who has been ignoring her problems. There's like nothing to hate about this ship. Everyone agrees they're perfect.
Kenji x Brooklyn
3/10
I've been waiting for them to break up since they got together. She was great for him in the beginning of their relationship, helping him become his own person and becoming less egotistical, but she has refused to change with him, which has made their relationship stagnant. I thing their relationship was good for Kenji and I'm glad they got together if only so that she could help him figure out how to be his own man, but past that, their relationship was pointless and I hope it never gets rejuvenated.
Ben x Darius
8/10
I love them as bros and honestly, despite their obvious closeness and the fact that I would like to see more of their interactions, I see them as more platonic, especially with what Darius said about his crush on Brooklyn. Not because of him liking Brooklyn or girls in general and you'll see why in a minute. But I also wouldn't be mad to see them get together. They're both nerds and I love them.
Darius x Brooklyn
2/10
Honestly, I feel like the same things that caused a rift in Brooklyn's relationship with Kenji would also tear apart her relationship with Darius. And it's stated in the show that it's unrequited. They're good friends, but while he'd probably rate her as his top friend and vice versa, I feel like we can collectively agree that there are other friendships he has that are less toxic. Also the love triangle thing feels so weird when the girl cares less about both the guys combined than either one feels about her.
Darius x Nobody
9/10 The dots have been connected
Now hear me out: I don't feel like his crush has ruined things between him and Ben or Kenji, but some things about what he said regarding his crush and his reactions have made me feel like he is very aroace coded. Which has put a lot of things in perspective for me. Since the beginning of cc, he's been a "power of friendship" guy and rewatching his interactions with everyone, they seem a lot stronger and meaningful as just platonic, rather than romantic. And while everyone around him has been dealing with romance, he's just kind of indifferent to it all until Brooklyn. And his reaction to his crush on Brooklyn just screams repressed aroace with him saying that he never thought he could feel like that (has he never had a crush on anybody before) and how he has completely panicked regarding their relationship. Idk to me, it's giving aroace with a "fake" crush or demi aroace person who has taken way too long to fall for a girl that anybody else would have fallen for after the original bout of mortal danger. He had to be friends with her for YEARS before he could catch a semblance of a crush on her. And it also sounds to me like she was pretty absent in his life before popping in to stay with him for a week, which could also explain why he might he having a "fake" crush (if that is what it is). ALSO: when I say "fake" crush, I'm not trying to downplay his feelings, I'm just referring to something a lot of aroace people experience where you get really close to someone and mistake those feelings for love. And when it happens, these feelings are very intense(speaking from experience). Like how if he's suddenly frequently interacting with Brooklyn again and it's just them, I feel like that kind of situation could lead to an aroace crush. It's all just giving aroace person experiencing their first crush in the most traumatic way possible.
Brooklyn x Nobody
10/10 We love to see a gal feeling herself
I feel like at this point in the story, she has nothing to gain or give by being in a relationship with anybody in the show. Her and Kenji had a decent run while they had it, but it's time to let go at this point. If she does end up with someone, it has to be someone outside the main cast and personally, I'd like to see her with a gal pal. She has bi energy, especially with the new haircut.
Kenji x Darius
7/10
Honestly, I definitely shipped them mid-cc, but at the beginning of ct, I decided I did not want to see them get together. But by the end, I kind of changed my mind. I still think their relationship would be best platonic, but I also wouldn't be mad if they got together. It'd probably be a bit stranger than if Darius was with Ben, but they've also got a strong connection.
Ben x Kenji
0/10
I feel like they've hardly gotten any relationship building in either cc or ct and it needs to happen pronto. There has to be something they can bond over
Sammy x Yasmina and Ben
10/10
I'd like to see the lesbians in a qpr with their hypeman. Ben is just so cute with them and he loves them so much (platonically) and vice versa. It doesn't need to be anything official, but just more of Ben being their third wheel/adopted son would make the show more perfect than it already is.
Ben x His European GF
2/10
I think she's fake, either that he's lying about her so he doesn't lose street cred or that she is lying to him and is a catfish. Maybe we'll see a plot twist relating to the gf, but I'm not holding out hope. She could be redeemed if she was a real girl who was a total kickass and saved the whole group (maybe they meet her at the end of their stowaway boat mission) but otherwise I don't really care about her. Also don't lose hope, people who hc him as gay or aro, there's always the chance that he's bi, lying, or having a "fake" crush like Darius. I know I, as an aroace person have had more online than irl relationships and I'm p sure that's a sign of not being allo, especially when the person you're dating is far away and you have no plans of ever seeing them irl.
Anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
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angelofsmalldeaath · 5 months ago
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work song — a.h.b.
a/n: full disclosure, i've posted this before on tumblr for something else. but i love this piece very much and i think it fits for him and this song so well 🤍 (it's gone under quite a few edits too, though)
cw: mentions of death but of well that's a given
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the artist flicks through the feature. 
her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face—smiling and excited—next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. 
the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns, but at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his red-brown curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him. 
and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory. 
when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles. 
“you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?” his voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now) 
“good,” he nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, “you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous.”
“mmm, because you were the centrepiece?” fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes—the bustling art gallery, him in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride. 
she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. “he's my muse,” she says every time, “this collection is dedicated to him.” 
“someone's going to connect the dots,” he walks around her, settling himself next to her on the settee. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle—her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. “if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection.” 
“sweet boy, we have been each other's muse for years now and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides,” she snorts, “i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won’t be the first time an artist's gone insane.”
he laughs a hearty laugh. “maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true.”
when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away as he smothers her in kisses. 
“seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes.” suddenly he sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone. 
“love it when you write about me too,” she teases, “love being told i give you a toothache just from kissing you.”
“oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me.”
“the memory of me taking care of you when you were burning up a fever? the memory of you demanding more kisses?”
he giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. “oh, oh, is it the memory of you passing the flu to me?” 
“we took care of each other though!” he traps both her hands in his so she won’t be able to poke him more. a second passes, and he can’t resist kissing the knuckles. “and so you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think.”
he pauses for a little then tuts. “actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic.”
“ruin the magic?” 
“of being your muse and having you as mine. a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times—”
“tune of our times...”
“yeah, quit laughing at me!” he flicks her nose, kissing it right after. “so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections.”
secretly, she loves the idea—that their love might transcend time and space, heaven and hell through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren’t just yet. 
“of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us.”
“that's morbid!” she laughs sharply, “what will the epitaph say?”
he hums for a bit, thinking. his eyes flutter shut for a second or two, almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands. 
“here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life.”
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hello-nichya-here · 6 months ago
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Hello, whats your opinion on this as a mai fan
I think this person is either misremembering the show or deliberately mischaracterizing what Mai, because what they're claiming she revealed on The Beach is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what she actually said.
She doesn't say "My parents used me as a pawn in their game to get close to royals" or "My parents never wanted me to learn anything about combat." She tells us that her parents will let her do whatever she likes - as long as she BEHAVES. As long as she's invisible. Out of sight, out of mind. They don't care what she does, as long as it doesn't affect them, as long as she's quiet. And that's what she says in an attempt to DOWNPLAY how bad her relationship with them actually is and how it affected her emotionally.
When Mai is complaining that she doesn't like Omashu because there's nothing for her to do, her mom doesn't try to talk to her about activities that could keep her busy/entertained, or show any concern about how she's adapting to moving to a whole new country, to a city where she doesn't know anyone. Instead, she ignores her daughter's attempts to talk about her feelings by reminding her that this is important for her father. There's no attempt to make this situation benefitial for her as well, it's all about how she needs to be grateful that someone else is happy about it.
Yes, when Tom-Tom is "kidnaped", they won't stop panicking, and are overjoyed when he's brought back safely. But there's not a word on them being concerned over Mai's well-being when she's leaving in a potentially dangerous mission. They don't show up to congratulate her at any point after she helps the Fire Nation conquer Ba Sing Se, even though that is a legendary feat. Favoritism much?
In book 3, literally the only adults we see in her home are servants, and considering one needs an airship to go to the island where the boiling rock is, it's pretty safe to say her uncle can't be dropping by too often. They let their 15-year-old daughter live in a different country, without any adult acting as her guardian - that's how much they don't care about her.
And speaking of her uncle, yes, he is doing a good job of being an attentive family member (is aware of her situation with Zuko, immediately lets her out of prison the second he knows he can get away with it) - but using that to claim "Thefore her family life is fine" is absurd because, again, that's her UNCLE, not her parents. By that logic, Zuko shouldn't be complaining about his family either, after all he has Iroh and somehow that is supposed to cancel out being raised by freaking Ozai, riiiiiiight?
And speaking of Zuko, there's a reason why, in a finale where everyone is being reunited with their family and friends, even when the travel time doesn't make any goddamn sense, Mai's happy ending involves a heartwarming reuining with him, and he's delighted to see her - but there's still nothing about her parents. Their daughter was sent to prison for life, then her boyfriend became Fire Lord giving them THE perfect chance to come rescue her, and they STILL are nowhere to be found.
For fuck's sake, AZULA showed more love for Mai than her parents did. Girl was clearly happy to see her again, and even gave her a "hug" that wasn't that touchy because Mai doesn't like it. In "The Lost Adventures" we find out that she was also the one who pushed for her and Zuko to get together (though that also ties into her knowing that was the only way to make Zuko come home despite his guilt over what he did to Iroh). Even on The Beach, she's the one who first connects the dots and realizes that Mai is always so aloof because she's used to being told to shut up when she says something inconvenient.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying her parents had no political ambitions (the Yang comics leaning into that was one of the few good things about his writting). Obviously they were happy that their daughter was best friends with the princess and dating the heir to the throne, and I'm sure Mai didn't appreciate being treated more as asset than as a daughter.
But her complaint was not about that. It was about how her parents are simply not part of her life at all. She's an outsider looking in. She can stand next to them and do as she's told, or she can leave. What she can't do is actually engage with them, mean anything to them, expect anything from them, rely on them at all.
Mai's parents are neglectful to a degree that, in the real world, could potentially have them lose custody of her because she consistently has to turn to literally anyone else instead of them whenever she needs anything.
Is it really any wonder she had a soft-spot for Zuko, aka the boy that is always disregarded by his father, to the point of literally being kicked out of his home, and is actually openly pissed off about it and will let everyone know it?
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notmorbid · 5 months ago
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i am homeless if this is not my home.
dialogue prompts from i am homeless if this is not my home by lorrie moore.
i suffer stage fright everywhere but the stage.
i am braced at every turn for disenchantment.
i sort of remember you.
i am here for you and with you.
what is there to be bitter about?
people don't think i know who they are.
reminiscence is an earache.
i am personally unreconciled to just about everything.
i have about two weeks of sobbing i haven't gotten around to yet.
i am so burned out.
do you remember that day?
all 'good' usually means is that someone got lucky.
i don't believe in 'good' anything.
there was no one heroic in my entire ancestral line, i'm pretty sure.
it's easier to speak when you don't have to look at people.
i didn't think you'd live this long.
i never really closed out the tab on ___.
i'm ostensibly more myself, or building up that way.
all that wanting's going to wear you out.
you? feel sorry for me?
i'm so sorry this is happening to you.
every marriage has a sinister little wobble in it.
i thought you might win. i really did.
jesus. i thought you were here to cheer me up.
the real story is never the official one.
if it adds up too neatly, it probably isn't correct.
be careful. you'll hear from HR.
democracy is a fine idea, but we've never actually had it.
did you bring any weed?
i miss you already.
i can't just come home.
i still have some things i want to tell you.
failure is a form of vacation.
i've never been good at connecting dots.
photos are a weird form of time travel.
why were you working so late?
may i kiss you?
you may want to sit down.
we were never on the same page at the same time.
are you trying to hug me?
i don't know how to block people.
i guess i'm like a bad penny. always turning up.
i guess death is kind of a spectrum.
did you think i had forgotten you?
changes of heart are my superpower.
aren't you happy to see me?
are you going to make me do a ted talk about my devious inner world?
it's hard to forgive what you've turned me into.
didn't you try to forget me?
your vitals are not so vital.
i did nothing but want you.
this mirror is gaslighting me.
you never really know where anybody is.
is this a dream? where am i?
i think this is a crime in several states.
it's not the prayer, it's the things you do to move the prayer along that give the prayer a fighting chance.
faith is not about argument.
i want my death to be helpful, even if it turns out it's not. i want to try to be helpful.
did you really die?
are you joking? sometimes i can tell, but not always.
we were each other to each other. not everyone can say that.
i'm sorry that i failed you.
is there something you'd like to share with the class?
you're going to carry me?
i'm a lot of things i didn't tell you.
life is a tough room.
where would we be without music?
i think i should be wearing sunglasses.
hang on. i'm going to sweep you off your feet.
sorry if i resemble a swamp person.
it's not haunted or anything.
i don't keep the shotgun loaded.
if anything seems not to work, just kick it, smack it, or unplug it then plug it back in.
now would be the time to cry.
i have an extra shirt you can wear.
here with you. this is my home.
the dead prefer the company of the living.
do we have a safe word?
you have a lot of weird knowledge.
i know this is too soon, but i do believe i love you.
don't you love farce?
my bad. i thought that you'd want what i want.
i want you in the world, where you belong.
i'm just a bump in your road.
i will miss your rogue and random energy.
tell people i was fun.
listen to me. everything is going to be okay.
you're just going to leave me here?
i realize it's over, but i can't let go.
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leilani-lily · 9 months ago
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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 1)
... So this idea for an Alastor x reader (kinda?) story popped in my brain, and has refused to leave me no matter how hard I try.
Have I written fanfiction recently? Hell no.
Do I even know how to write for an AroAce character? No but I'm gonna do my damndest to represent him properly (and also relying on outer sources so I'm not offending anyone).
Do I feel like a complete fool for being sucked back into the fanfiction world and re-entering with a freakin Hazbin Hotel fic? ABSOOOO-FREAKIN-LUTELY.
But here we are. The writing gods have spoken. And they have declared that I write this story out so my poor brain can focus on other things like work.
Figured I'd share so it's just not on my computer all lonely. Will be a slow burn so fair warning. Let's be real, the deer boi needs love. But not overly romantic love. Just, someone he ends up really caring about and becoming his favourite.
SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. The hotel is looking to hire a chef to prepare meals for the staff/guests. Somehow you're hired and you begin your new life. And somehow end up becoming close to a certain Radio Demon. Word Count: 1.8 K
Chapter 1 under the cut. Enjoy I guess? ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ok, deep breaths y/n. Remember to smile.
You felt your lips curl up into a strained grin as if to fight off the nerves in your chest, your grip tightening on the flyer in your fist. This could go either two ways. One, you get the job and are able to live a life of somewhat normality. Or two, you get hung from the tippy top of the building by your own intestines. With your legs chopped off. And one of your arms sticking out of your ass.
Gotta love Hell and it’s creative subjects.
You shake your head out of those terrible thoughts, surely it wouldn’t be that bad?? When you saw the original broadcast on the 666 News, you couldn’t stop thinking how nice the Princess of Hell actually was. And building an entire hotel to help her subjects reform into something better was, perhaps a little optimistic in your opinion, but it made you admire her gumption and her love for her subjects.
So later when you found the flyer in search of a chef at the very same establishment the princess was hoping to fill… well, it somehow managed to get you all the way here. Standing at the doorsteps of the very lonely looking hotel on the hill. 
You had to admit it wasn’t the look you had imagined, but hey, this was Hell. You had seen worse. And everyone has to start somewhere. Including yourself, arm still poised ready to knock yet not yet making the motion.
You felt so stupid, you had been standing here for almost 10 minutes now just trying to get the courage to enter the damn building. You sigh to yourself and shake out the jitters. Alright, let’s just do this. Once again, you smile, puff out your chest and raise your arm high in the air, ready to strike with a newfound courage.
“Well folks, looks like the little lady is finally ready to take the leap! Will she follow through with her actions? Or will she choke and back out of the fight? Let’s tune in and find out~”
You felt your heart nearly leap out of your chest as you whip your head around to look behind you. A tall demon clad in red and ruby eyes stood behind you, a wickedly wide grin filling his face as he points what appears to be a microphone in your direction. You stare at it dumbly, then make eye contact with him again. He remains poised, half lidded eyes seeming to hold a sparkle of impish joy. His eyes flicker from you, to your raised arm, and back to you. After a embarrassingly long time of connecting the dots, you finally extend your arm closer to the door, never breaking focus on the demon behind you (you can't help but notice he raises his microphone even closer to you), and give the door a good solid knock.
“AND SHE’S DONE IT FOLKS, what a display!!” He pulls the microphone back to himself, as you continue to stare dumbfounded “The form, the elegance, it could almost make a grown Imp cry. Let's give her a hand people.” He begins to clap as a roar of applause plays from… somewhere.
You couldn’t tell if this guy was being sarcastic or genuine, but the whole absurdity of it all, plus the bundle of nerves you were feeling earlier, seemed to bubble up inside of you and you couldn't help a little snort escape. The red demon’s grin widened as he ceases his clapping, stepping closer to you as you continue to giggle.
“Ahhh now isn’t that better. A much nicer smile than the one you were faking earlier. Besides, there’s no need to be so shy my dear. This hotel is always happy to accept wayward demons looking for reformation!”
Upon hearing his words, you turn to face him and put your hands up “Oh nono, I’m not here to-”
“Ohoho~! and what’s this you have here?” Before you can finish your sentence, the tall demon ripped the flyer out of your hand and inspected it quickly, before turning back to you. His half-lidded gaze was now round with surprise, his grin becoming even wider (which you didn’t even think was possible).
“So THAT explains the nerves from before! And here I was just thinking you were a timid little thing. But a business woman! Now that I can admire.” He smiles at you almost impressed and leans in closer, your noses almost touching.
“Tell me my dear, can you make a good jambalaya? Or perhaps a hearty gumbo with cornbread on the side~?”
You were so flustered with the speed of everything happening (plus the close proximity of this demon you had just met certainly didn’t help). All you could manage was a jumbled “Uhh, well yes I-!”
“WONDERFULLLL~!" He straightens up again and you sigh with relief. “I’ll be sure to test you on such skills. But for now we should-”
The front doors of the hotel suddenly burst open and a short gray female stands before you, with long silvery hair and an eyepatch. She looks at you for a moment, before turning her gaze at the red demon and giving him a scowl.
“Alastor, what the HELL took you so long, you should’ve been back ages ago. And quit creeping out new potential clients.” Her gaze adverts back to you, expression softening ever so slightly, “Seriously, if he’s bothering you-” “Oh Vaggie my dear, no need to be so hostile. I was simply going over business with our newest chef!” he brings his long fingers up behind your shoulder and pulls you in close against his chest, making you yelp a moment before regaining composure. You could sense this so-called 'Vaggie' demon tense, eyes flickering between the two of you. You felt as if your brain was sputtering to catch up with the current conversation (he WORKS here??!)  before finally realizing what he had just called you. You sneak a look at him, and he gives you a quick wink before focusing back on the female before him. 
“Now be a doll and have Nifty tidy up one of the rooms, preferably one of a reasonable size and close to the kitchen. And call upon Charlie as well, she’ll DEFINITELY want to meet our newest addition!”
The female in front of you shot a glare at Alastor (you quickly noted these two did not seem to get along), but then flicked her gaze back at you. After a moment, she sighed and turned back into the building as she followed the male demon’s orders. You couldn’t help but notice how Alastor’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips, static humming ever so louder in amusement. He himself began to walk into the hotel, guiding you along with him.
"Now then. We’ll have to introduce you to everyone, as well as get you to fill in the proper paperwork, give you a proper tour of the place and-!”
“Wait wait,” you stop walking, causing him to halt. You notice a slight twitch in his eye and his hand squeezes you for a moment. He doesn’t like to be interrupted, duly noted. You take a breath.
“Sorry, uh for interrupting” That seemed to please him. “But does this mean… I got the job?? You don’t need a resume or a test or…?”
Alastor let out a guffaw of amusement “Why of course my dear! As long as you remain true to your word of being able to cook a good New Orleans dish, that’s all the proof I’ll need! There hasn’t been many a demon coming here interested in the job, so I say your timing couldn’t be more perfect!”
Well that was the easiest damn interview you’ve ever done. You felt yourself exhale a sigh of relief as you smile up to the tall demon. 
“Wow, that’s… that’s amazing, thank you so much.” He gave you a half lidded smirk, clearly enjoying being praised “So… does this make you my boss, Mr…?” 
You heard the sound of a record screech as his eyes widened in surprise. Hand finally leaving your shoulder and placing it on his own chest he began to laugh heartilly, a laugh track playing in the background. You stood there confused for a moment before he finally responded.
“Ohhh my goodness me, my mother would be rolling in her grave if she ever heard about this. How rude of me to be so forward without properly introducing myself!” One minute he was standing right beside you, and then the next he had sunken like a shadow into the floor, only to appear in front of you a few steps ahead. With grace and suave you didn’t realize he possessed, he gave a small hand flourish before bowing in front of you.
“I am Alastor, also known as the Radio Demon. I happen to be the Hotel’s Facility Manager, but you’ll find Miss Morningstar is the real ringleader around here,” You notice the corner of his lip twitch at that last remark, but you pay no mind to it. “If you ever have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to me.” You smile and dip yourself in your own little curtsy as he straightens up.
“My name is y/n, and I’ll be sure to do my best to serve you and this hotel, sir.” Alastor seemed to hum with approval as he looks down at you. “I guess I just have one more question for you, if that’s alright.” 
“Why of course dear y/n, whatever would it be?”
“Well, I uh…” You feel yourself becoming flustered at the question, and the radio demon seemed to notice. Cocking a head to the side, he takes a step forward, opening his arms into a friendly gesture.
“Come now dearest, you can ask me anything! If we’re going to be working together, we have to be honest with each other~” You look up at him and sigh, knowing he was right. With a gulp you straighten your back and wear a serious expression.
“How long did you see me standing by the door?” 
Alastors face didn’t waver, it was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Then his smile grew into what looked like an amused, smug expression before answering.
“The whole time.”
You groaned and felt your head slap against your hand, making Alastor burst into laughter yet again at your expense. He was there watching the entire time?? Satan’s Ass you felt like such an idiot. Was he waiting for you to move so he could get in the building?? The more you thought about it the more you wanted to sink into the floor and die, for a 2nd time. The radio demon wiped a stray tear from his eye.
“Ohhhh y/n, what a riot you are. I can already tell that this is going to be fun~”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
First chapter hoorayyy ♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡ Not sure how often I'll be updating, hopefully soon as I'm currently inspired. Thanks for reading thus far!FIRST (You're here!) PREVIOUS (Doesn't exist ( • ᴗ - ) ✧) NEXT
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boytoyhalo · 11 months ago
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Can we have more of the selkie au please?
are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?
you absolutely can!!
They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.
Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.
"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.
The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.
Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?
Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest
.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.
"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.
"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.
"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.
"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.
"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.
"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.
"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"
"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?
"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?
"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.
"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.
"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.
"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.
"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.
He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.
"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.
"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.
"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.
"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.
There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.
Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.
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abiiors · 7 months ago
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Veee could you write something with matty where reader is also an artist (a way less known one) and its just pure fluff with both of them being inspired by one another?
Feel free to ignore ofc!!🫶🫶🫶
muse - matty x reader
a/n: this took a very different direction than originally planned and got slightly existential sorry about that 💀💀 but i hope you like it regardless <33
divider by @/cafekitsune
cw: mentions of smut, talks of death, general fluff and sappiness.
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the artist flicks through the feature.
her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face--smiling and excited--next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns but the at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his jet black curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.
and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.
when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.
"you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?" matty's voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)
"good," matty nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, "you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous."
"mmm, because you were the centrepiece?" fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes--the bustling art gallery, matty in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.
she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. "he's my muse," she says every time, "this collection is dedicated to him."
"someone's going to connect the dots," matty walks around her, settling himself next to her on the sofa. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle--her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. "if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection."
"matty, we have been each other's muse for years and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides," she snorts, "i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won't be the first time an artist's gone insane."
matty laughs. "maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true."
when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away when he smothers her in kisses.
"seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes." suddenly matty sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.
"love it when you write about me too," she teases, "love being called a gemini and a sexy girl, such poetry."
"oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me."
"the memory of us fucking in the new bath for the first time?"
matty giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. "or waking up the next day with a head cold because we stayed in the cold water for so long hmm?"
"you took care of me though, and so i think you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think." then matty tuts. "actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic."
"ruin the magic?"
"of being your muse and having you as mine. i think a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times--"
"tune of our times..."
"yeah, quit laughing at me!" matty flicks her nose, quickly kissing it after. "so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections."
secretly, she loves the idea--that their love might transcend time and space through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren't just yet.
"of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us."
"that's morbid!" she laughs sharply, "what will the epitaph say?"
matty hums for a bit, thinking, his eyes flutter shut for a second or two almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.
"here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life."
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