#de redding van God

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

[alien-magnolia]

Tainted Love

Fic description: This is a dark fic. 18+ MINORS DNI. Dom!-coded Billy Loomis + hyperfeminine, sub-coded afab reader: they are married, committing crimes together <3 and having a wonderful domestic life <3 besides all the blood and murder. Smut/horror genre: kinks include service!, blood!, knifeplay!, ropes!, choking!, spanking!, free-use!, SERVICE, d/s mental dynamics, majorrrr daddy!kink, exhibitionism

If you like this post, pls engage, comment, reblog! It means so much to me, Ty <3 WC 2.7k

October 10, 1996.

The dark red, yellow, with tinges of brown leaves tumbled down the secluded suburban street. A tan cottage stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, yard neatly trimmed, wind chimes ringing on the porch where they hung. A dim light inside. A black van pulls into the driveway, scaring away a few neighboring birds. The door shuts — a young man enters the house.

——

You were just about finished with tonight’s dinner when your partner came back from college. You loved Billy dearly, and so you did almost everything for him. It was your dynamic — and he loved it as well. You served him, your Billy, your daddy.

How exactly did you get involved with a serial killer? Involved far enough to be an equal partner in his crimes? Involved enough to be so cautious and excellent at keeping first-degree murder a secret? Involved enough to live with him?

—-

It began last fall. A chilly November morning, fog rolling in on the campus. You walked in your pretty pink outfit, donning lace and frills, kitten heels, and butterfly hair clips. You were only nineteen. Young. Innocent. You were looking for your ‘Introduction to Early Modern Literature’ class, yet happened to wander over on the other, more secluded side of campus. You stumble over a rock on the sidewalk. You fall, beautiful rosy cheek now stained with a gash of bright, red blood.

Your hands, your knees, cut up from the bumpy pavement. You start crying. This was just too embarrassing!! With your social anxiety and shyness, you really hoped nobody had seen this. You did not like to be perceived by people — that is just how you were. You look around — not a soul to be seen.

Except for a man — lean, sitting on a brick bench, cigarette in hand. You couldn’t make out how he looked, yet fear overtook you as he started making his way over. You start to scramble up, hoping to run away from him, yet your bruises were just too intense for you to do so.

His deep voice asks you, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay? You nod. “Yeah jus’ a few scratches. Can’t see too well in the fog,” you sheepishly explain. “Hey, no worries. Here, I’ll help you up, yeah?” You oblige, taking his big calloused hands in yours as he helps you stand. You finally get a good look at him. God — he was handsome. More than handsome. Extremely, extremely, attractive. You got wet just by looking at his deep brown eyes and crooked smile looking down at you.

“Hey. Don’t be too shy, hun. Come. Want me to help you fix those bruises? There’s a bathroom right around the corner, he suggests. You nod silently, agreeing, following him to a door on the left.

He begins wiping your bruises with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses. You see more of him now. He wears all black. Smells like cigarettes and a dusty old basement. “So what brings you to this part of campus?,” he asks, brown eyes focused on your bruises.

“Just got lost. Needed to find one class but couldn’t. Maybe I’ll skip today anyway…,” you trail off. “Aw. Today’s your first day huh?,” he coos at you, with a smile you just couldn’t figure out. “Um. Yes. I don’t really know the campus, so…,” you quietly answer him, afraid to look into his eyes. His voice, his face, it all made you thirst for him even more.

“I could tell. Hey. Maybe you should skip. Been looking for someone to hang out with,” he suggests, finishing up cleaning your bruises, putting a few bandaids on you. “I’m Billy, by the way.” You introduce yourself to him, a little smile forming on your face. You ended up skipping class that day, spending time with him in that secluded courtyard, smoking cigarettes, listening to The Smiths. You ended up fucking in the bathroom a few hours later. You knew that you were indubitably attracted — glued to him and everything that he was. Something did feel a little off about how he treated others — you did not care.

So it was.

——

~Present day ~

You hear the keys jingle in the doorway, heavy boots make their way towards the kitchen, where you were. You currently donned a short little black dress, fishnets, with nothing underneath. You were waiting for him.

“Hey, sweets. Looking good today,” he compliments you, as he takes your small hand in his, moving you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. You giggle as he peppers your cheek with kisses. “Sweetie. Want’a ask you something,” he insists, quietly, yet confidently. Your big eyelashes blink as you wait for his question.

“Wanna play with me tonight?,” a sinister smile adorns his face, his brown eyes filled with a hint of malice, excitement. Your eyes match his. You loved playing with him, your sessions, where you gave over complete control of yourself, to him. You trusted him completely. He led, you followed.

You were his. His prey, his little girl, his accomplice. You were his, devoted completely, mind and body. The two of you even had matching tattoos: a forever symbol of your unique relationship.

“Yes, daddy. What first?” He chuckles lowly. “Glad you asked, princess. We’re going to the van.” You smile back at him, as he gives you a kiss, pulling you closer to him by your neck. You knew what to do, sticking your hands out, as he takes a rope from the nearby drawer.

The rope felt nice around your wrists, you liked to watch him tie it. You didn’t want your freedom when you played with him. “Daddy’s girl, all tied up, huh? Come sweets. Let’s go to the van,” he sneers at you in the best possible way, as he leads you outside. Still, he manages to grab a coat for you, alongside some knives. You suspected that both of you will be using those later.

“Before we leave our house, thought we might have a bit of fun in the van, what’dya say? I think it’ll be nice for my little girl, yeah?,” he croons at you, caressing your cheek, before gripping it harshly, brown eyes boring into yours.

You’re on your knees for him in his dingy van. His waffle knit white t-shirt feels nice on your bound hands, as you see him start to unbuckle his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor of the van. “Give daddy’s cock some love, hun,” you hear, and his strong arms work to push you down to the floor. You look up at him from your back, you see him towering over you, cock in his calloused hand, slowly rubbing it. He lowers his cock and balls onto your face, you love the feeling of his heavy ball sack on your chin. His cock was wide, not too long, yet wide, weeping, with three beautiful veins and a beauty mark <3

It was all red and ready for your wet throat. You took him eagerly, sucking so much pressure, you felt his silky smooth voice moan out in ecstasy. You keep sucking, swirling your tongue around the mushroom tip of his cockhead. He pulls a knife to the side of your cheek. You stop.

“Look what daddy’s got here hun. You don’t like this little toy, do you?,” he taunts. With that, he lowers the knife to your chest, where he makes a gentle cut on it. He liked to cut you with his knife. Another way to possess you, to mark you as HIS.

“Get up, sweets. Daddy’s gonna cum if you keep this shit up.” He chuckles, and helps you up, wiping that little cut he made with a towel. That same towel now goes in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

His hands tightly grip your hips, pushing you down onto the floor of the van again. Hips spread, gagged, hands still tied, you felt his finger swipe across your clit, down your labia, trailing over your wet, wet, pussy. Your hole was clenching around nothing!! He was going to fix that.

“Aww. Look at you , sweetie. Cheeks all rosy, ass up for me, ready to be bred,” he taunts. You only moan in response. “Does daddy’s little girl want to be bred, hmm? Like a little cow?” You moan in response, he tuts, and lifts your neck up gently. “What was that?,” voice low. Shit. You fucked up.

“Yes, daddy,” your voice is muffled through the gag. He smiles again, that dark smile of his. Sinister. Evil. Exactly what you wanted to see. Without warning, you feel him push into you. Wide, throbbing, filling that sweet spot exactly how you wanted. He went slow for just a little, relishing how good his little girl, his breeding cow, dumpster, was for him. Then he went fast. Too fast. You loved hearing the sound of his cock and balls slap against your ass, your squelching pussy <3

You feel so full of him, you saw stars as his wife cock drilled deeper and deeper into you. You felt him twitch inside, your favorite part!! “Take my cum, baby. Fuckin’ take it,” you hear him grunt, as his hands press your body down into a mating press, his stomach now on top of your back. He had you caged in, tied, gagged, absolutely abusing you on his wide cock. You were in heaven. You were his now, in this moment. The both of you came, and of course, he did not let you squeeze his cum out of you.

“Keep it in, hmm? Want our visitors to know that you’re daddy’s girl.” You nod and smile, making grabby hands at him once he unties your wrists, and takes the towel out of your mouth. He lifts you up into his lap, peppering your face with kisses, smiling up at you as you giggle.

He helps you get dressed, gently cooing at you as you show him the carpet burn you got from being on your knees for so long. He kisses it to make it better <3 and even puts on your white frilly socks for you, helping you with your little black kitten heels and your dress.

“Where to next, daddy?,” you giddily await his answer. “Now, we drive. To meet our special guests for tonight,” he replies, your smile now matching his level of sinister. The both of you were about to go have some fun, with some unconventional guests as well.

——-/

It was now almost midnight. After your play session in the van, you couldn’t wait to play in front of your guests!! The both of you listen to heavy metal as Billy speeds down an abandoned road, the rotting leaves blowing towards the sides from the van passing by on the road. He pulls his van up a few meters close to the woods, and parks.

“Coat, baby.” You nod, and he puts your black puffer on. He leads you to the backseat, where a black trunk with a lock is placed. He opens it. His mask. Ghostface. He puts it on his hip, putting on black clothes over his nice ones. He gives you gloves, and a knife. One for himself as well. Binoculars.

“Come, hun. This way.” You follow him up into a tree, where the both of you take turns with your binoculars. He takes out his block of a phone. How you loved the 90’s. He dials the number, telling you to watch their reaction in the windows. “Hi. What’s your favorite scary movie,” Billy's voice drawls out to his unsuspecting victims in the mansion that you were currently hiding outside of.

Billy continued to harass them on the phone, beckoning you down the tree quietly, and closer and closer to the person’s backyard. Billy stays on the phone, pointing at you to stay put, and opens the window on the first floor. You wait outside, as he slips on in.

You knew what to do. You’d wait for his signal, then follow him in. Then, came your favorite part: where Billy shows you off to his victims <3

You see his hand signal through the window. You step on inside, and see the couple tied to each other, this time with metal chains. Billy is wearing his mask. “Just in time for the show, sweetheart. Kneel.”

You do as said, loving the absolutely sadistic smile on his face right now. He puts on your leash ( only for when in front of un-consenting others) and has to crawl to sit at his knees. “You see here, my two pretties, you two are going to watch me fuck my little princess here. After that, I’ll decide if you get to live,” he chuckles in absolute glee.

“By the way, if you two decide to make a sound, or go at my little girl here, I’ll stab ya. Sounds good? My, my, what a perfect, scary movie,” he narrates to himself, to you, to the two victims, who looked like they were about to mentally lose it. <3

He skips with the foreplay, the blowjob, the fingering. He gets right to it. He wants his victims to see his pretty girl, on his own terms. He roughly pushes you down onto the floor, strong hands positioning your hips in place, giving your ass a few harsh spanks <3 you hear the belt buckle slip, and soon enough, you can feel the warmth of his already hard cock near your puffy pussy.

Your eyes are drawn to the couple. You loved being shown off, being watched. They did not want to watch you. But that is okay. Billy is going to make them. :)

They watch in horror as he starts rutting into you like a beast, bloody knife that he used on one of the victims nearing your neck, staying there. The knife soon drops, he gives it to you to hold as he starts losing control. You were too, feeling so full of him, getting an extra serving of his cum :) was your favorite thing to do.

You smiled as the couple looked on in horror. Billy pulled out just the last second before, and came all over your face. “Look so pretty with my cum all over your face, sweet girl. Clean it up f’me, yeah?” You nod.

After you wipe it off, Billy steps back in front of the two victims. “See how nicely I treat my girl? I’m her daddy, after all. Just wanted to show her to you. She’s mine, forever will be. What a nice show the two of you got,” he chuckles, before stabbing one of them, the screams could be heard from down the block.

Billy finished off the other one, not before giving her a good slap and punch. <3 The pool of blood covers the entire kitchen tiling, making it seem red everywhere. It’s on your shoes, on Billy’s. He takes his mask off, and picks you up in his arms.

“Did so good f’me today, sweet girl. So proud of you,” he praises you. “You did good too, Billy. I love how rough you are with them.” He smiles again, giving you a tender kiss. “Let’s leave, huh? Go back home, watch a scary movie?,” he asks. You nod, staying still in his arms as he carries you over the blood, and back out to the woods.

The two of you make it back to the van. They won’t catch you. As long as you’re together, everything was just fine.

[tainted-liquor]

'Fuck Around and Find Out٠ ࣪⭑

e42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Miles being a dumbass, sassy men, N-word usage, probs incorrect spanish so pleaaase lmk! W/C: 695 A/N: BERLEEZY REFERENCE EUUUUGHHHH!!

It was a peaceful Saturday, and you and your boyfriend Miles were hanging around in the living room when you got a sudden idea. You were going to make Miles play phasmophobia. "Hey Miles? Can you c'mere for a sec?" You called to his crouched form that was 'miles' deep into the fridge as you powered on the TV. He made his way over to the couch, a mix of confusion and amusement as you slid the headset over his head. "Whatchu doin', ma? What's all this for?"

"Shhhh, just play the game. I wanna see what you think of it," You persuaded as you slid both controllers into his hands. "It's...a new game! Yeah! We're experimenting with genres today. Just follow the instructions aight?" You booted the game from your TV and patiently waited as Miles hoisted himself up from his slouched posture, standing in the middle of your living room as you watched the screen. He looks around the electronic space, muttering a confused "The fuck is...phasmophobia" as he begins toying with the various objects in the van.

You explained the game's goal as he nodded in what he thought was your direction, giggling silently as you grabbed both of his wrists, gently guiding his hands to the necessary items and showing him how to pick them up. "Mami, you know I don't fuck with them fuckass ghosts. Why do you have me playing this?" he chuckles as I show him how to move. "Whaaat? Who said anything about ghosts?" you teased, trying to hide the main enemy of the game to get his raw reaction. "I swore I saw a cross over there, so it's either ghosts or demons...n ion rock with either of 'em. The spirit of the lord is HEEEREEE" he exaggerated as he began to play the game. He spent 30 minutes stuck in the van, debating what he should bring to the farmhouse.

When he finally got into the flow of the game, he was scared as bitch. "Why's it so dark in here? This shit got me tight like why am I doing alla dis in the dark?" He spat as he descended the dark halls with his flashlight. He was already antsy as he took out the EMF reader, watching as it spiked to about four with an annoyed fearful groan. But you decided to take it a step further and taunt him just a little bit more. You snuck up to his side with an absolutely evil grin on your face and breathed cold air on the side of his neck.

He unleashed the most unhinged, barbaric, high-pitched, off-the-rails fearful scream as he swung at his side blindly. He would've knocked you clean out had you not already gotten yourself out of the way as soon as you saw his muscles tense. "CHILL, NIGGA DAMN!" You giggled as you watched your boyfriend fearfully run out of the house. He faded in and out between English and Spanish, losing his shit as he desperately tries to explain to you what he felt, not realizing that the ghost can actually...hear him.

"MAMA BICHO! AAAH- MAMI, SENTÍ SU COLD ASS BREATH DE MI LADO!! NO ME DIJISTE IT COULD BREATH!" He practically yelled as he lifted the headset slightly. You laughed manically at his reaction, watching as he scowled and lowered the headset back to his eyes, only to be scared right back out of his headset by the entity. You watched as he jolted backward, hitting the back of his head rather aggressively on the wooden coffee table. You couldn't help but laugh twice as hard, face turning red as you rolled around on the floor, silently crying and clutching your stomach for dear life. "Shit...! Oh my god, Miles, baby are you okay?" You muttered in between harsh giggles, reaching your hand out towards your boyfriend's crouched form with both hands behind his head. "I will KNOCK. yo ass out." he enunciated as he subtly shook on the floor.

"I'm sorry my love!" you cackled as you scooped what was left of a man into your arms, tears coursing down your face from laughing too hard.

[feathered-serpents]

I swear to god the most random people show up as voice actors in the Hellverse. Invador Zim is in it. Norman Reedus plays a sexy rattlesnake assassin. Beelzebub is KESHA

You see this red parrot demon guy?

He's voiced by legendary vampire killer and descendant of Van Helsing, Guillermo de la Cruz

[adhdkiramman]

hello, i’m van!!! i’m a transmasc butch lesbian studying english at my university!! first and foremost, zionists and terfs and the like, fuck off!

while i’ve been active in tumblr and twitter fandoms before, i’m starting fresh on a new account because it has been several years. i never really planned on coming back to this kind of blog, but i’ve been super hyperfixated on arcane, and i really want to engage with some more content creators!! i’m also working on several caitvi fics, including a multi-chapter college au!! find my work on my ao3 linked below and in my bio!!!

if it seems like we’d get along/you’re interested in my writing, let’s be mutuals! feel free to send questions or fic requests to my inbox or shoot me a dm!

the format of this is very rudimentary, so i'll be making a more complete list soon, but these are some of my interests:

shows: arcane, yellowjackets, over the garden wall, she-ra, bojack horseman, the bear, killing eve, sex lives of college girls, wynonna earp, pantheon... i love lesbians and beautiful animation!

movies: horror movies, go fish, i saw the tv glow, clerks, bottoms, but i'm a cheerleader, portrait, jordan peele films, juno, jennifer's body, the substance, the watermelon woman, and more! i love horror, lesbians, 90s indie films, etc.

video games: the last of us pt. 1 and 2, god of war, cyberpunk 2077, red dead redemption 1 and 2, night in the woods, batman arkham trilogy, assassin's creed, and more!

music: lucy dacus, elliott smith, pavement, the silver jews, fiona apple, ween, kendrick lamar, megan thee stallion, ethel cain, rainbow kitten surprise, doechii, mf doom, big thief, adrienne lenker, mazzy star, indigo de souza, boygenius, belle and sebastion, japanese breakfast, sufjan stevens, noah kahan, chappell roan, julia jacklin, and sooooo much more!!!! please send me music recs!!!

[jjtheresidentbaby]

» spn agere week: day 2, little and their caregiver go on a long car drive - jan 30th

» for @spnagereweek event || on my ao3 | 1.7k+ wrd count

» little!sam & caregiver!dean

» warnings: pre canon, hurt/comfort, swearing

“It’s so cool Dean, c’mon admit it!” Sam swivels in his seat of the mini van Dean’s driving. They rented it for a bit while the Impala is in the shop, much to Dean’s dismay, and John’s out on a hunt a few states over so the trucks gone too.

“Okay you’re right, it’s kind of cool. Not as cool as Baby though.” Dean caves and smiles when Sam beams with a mutter about him being right like always. He sounds so happy, it’s a little strange for Dean if he’s honest, ever since Sam hit age sixteen he’s been a ball of angst and anger, but not today.

He’s acting like he would when he was younger- still in his fleece pajama pants because no matter what Dean said he wouldn’t change, giggling at Dean’s cheesy jokes, sitting cross legged in his seat, flipping through the cds that the car rental place left like they’re the most interesting thing in the world, pointing out different colored houses or animals they see as they drive- it’s like he’s eleven again. Dean has no idea why or what’s even going on but he likes seeing Sammy happy so he won’t bring it up.

“Hey they have Metallica!” The cd gets pulled out of the plastic sleeve in seconds and Sam leans to slide it into the radio.

“You don’t wanna listen to something else?” The look he gets in response is somewhere along the line of ‘why in the world would you ask that’ and ‘how dare you offend me like that’ which makes Dean snort. Usually Sam’s complaining left and right about only being able to listen to the tapes Dean and John have stockpiled in the Impala and truck.

“Can’t believe you just said that, who are you and what have you done with my big brother?” Sam teases and blushes with a laugh when Dean pushing his hand at the top of Sam’s head.

“Haha, okay smart guy what do you want for lunch?” Please don’t say salad, please don’t say salad. One more salad this week and Dean may lose his mind.

“Slushies!” Dean blinks once, twice, pulls up to a red light and turns to see if his brother is being serious. He is.

“Sammy that’s not lunch.” A frankly pitiful pout forms on Sam’s lips in seconds, big eyes blinking at Dean like he just told him his dog died.

“We can get them but we need real food too.” That thankfully seems to fix the issue as Dean knows from years of raising Sam that the expression he just had would eventually turn to tears if he’s not careful.

“Can we get mac and cheese?” God he really is like a little kid again. Something sour appears in the back of Dean’s throat, partly worried his brother might’ve gotten cursed or something, but more so concerned that something might’ve triggered this. They’ve been nonstop hunting for a while now and Sam’s even had to skip school which Dean knows he hates. Maybe the drastic change in routine has been messing with him more than he says? Maybe the horror of what they see is finally setting in and this is Sam’s way of getting away from it?

“Course bud.” He smiles and lets his hand rest in Sam’s hair when he pushes into Dean’s touch. He was reaching to ruffle his brother’s hair like when they were younger but Sam’s almost laid across the center of the van to stay touching Dean.

“Thanks De’.” And fuck- that nickname strikes something deep in Dean’s chest.

It’s been years since Sam’s used it, he was still shorter than Dean back then, still got excited when John would come home, still asked Dean a million lore questions he was too young to be asking, still wanted to sleep in Dean’s bed with excuses of it being cold but in reality the monsters outside scared him and he needed his big brother to protect him. He was so innocent back then, short years ago that feels like a lifetime.

-

“The drive through is too long so I’m just going to go in and grab the food.” Dean says as he pulls into the parking lot of the Wendy’s restaurant- it’s the only fast food place Dean knows has mac and cheese and isn’t a two hour drive outside of where they’re going.

“Wait you’re leaving?” A hand quickly wraps around Dean’s forearm before he can turn to climb out of the van. His brow furrows when he sees how upset Sam looks, bordering on looking- scared? What the hells he scared of? He was smiling five seconds ago, humming along to the radio louder than normal and bouncing in his seat a bit like he used to.

“Just to get some food, I’ll be back fifteen minutes tops.” None of it soothes Sam.

“You wanna come with me?” He gets a nod, though it’s hesitant.

Almost the second they step into the restaurant Sam’s hand reaches to grip Dean’s tight like a vice. He’s glued to his brothers side and would be hidden behind Dean’s frame if not for the added height Sam has, height he’s trying to hide in this moment as he shrinks down and curls up against Dean. It’s breaking Dean’s heart a little- there’s maybe five people in the restaurant and yet Sam seems terrified.

“You okay Sammy?” The few people in the place are eyeing them more obviously than appreciated- Dean isn’t sure if it’s the pajamas with the Iron Maiden shirt and converse Sam’s in, the way he’s tucked into Dean’s side, or just the fact that they look out of place in this small town in the middle of nowhere Maine.

“Mm.” Well that’s not good. Sam always got quiet when he was upset as a kid, only giving a hum or nod to questions asked, not caring if John had been pleading with him for an hour to talk or if Dean promised a trip to the movies to see whatever Sam wanted or even if Bobby gave him free range over his entire library. The kids a master at the silent game.

“What can I get for you two?” The voice of the woman behind the register startles Dean which in turn startles Sam twice as bad, he clings his free hand to the loose material of Dean’s t-shirt and stuffs his face into Dean’s shoulder.

All Dean can do is relay their order back to the woman- pointedly ignoring her concerned looks at Sam- and wrap an arm around Sam’s shoulders so he has an easier time tucking himself as small as he can into Dean’s chest. The food takes no time at all to be done and Dean gets Sam ushered out of there as quick as humanly possible without someone thinking he’s kidnapping him. The sigh of relief both boys let out once in the van again makes Dean feel uneasy- they shouldn’t be sighing like this over ordering fast food.

“You wanna go get those slushies now Sammy?” He reaches to place his hand in Sam’s hair again, rubbing his thumb at his brother’s forehead and watching with a slightly furrowed brow as Sam’s eyes flutter shut before back open again. It’s only one pm, they left at seven this morning which isn’t all that early on Winchester time, but maybe Sam’s been acting weird because he’s tired?

“Or maybe stop at a motel and sleep?” The plan was to drive for at least another eight or so hours before stopping to sleep, but the last thing Dean wants is for whatever’s going on with Sam to get worse. He could be feeling sick, it is freezing out and it’s not like they’re exactly up to date with their flu shots.

“Thought we had to meet dad?” Sam asks with a clumsy rub of his eyes that makes Dean give a faint smile. He’s the same little kid he’s always been.

“We’d have to drive back here for Baby anyways, we’re just saving a trip.” Assuming the Impala will be done by tomorrow morning when they go to leave again, Dean can hope, and hope that John doesn’t ask too many details on why Dean and Sam won’t be meeting him as early as they said they would. The hunt he’s on seems pretty nasty so Dean doubts he’ll be paying much to mind to what day the boys get there.

“M’kay.”

It takes all of twenty minutes for Dean to find and book a room at the nearest motel- years of hunting for them in the pitch black makes them pretty easy to spot in the daytime. Sam stays in the car as Dean gets the key and pays for the room- though Dean can feel how hard Sam’s staring at him through the window, he swears the nervous energy radiates far enough that it makes Dean’s spine shiver.

“You okay bud?” Dean says with half a laugh when Sam collapses onto his bed and instantly curls his arms around Dean’s middle with his head on Dean’s chest. There’s an empty queen bed two feet away- it was the same price as getting a single so he figured Sam would appreciate the bed to himself. Apparently he was wrong.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere right?” His face falls hearing Sam’s voice come out so small, nearly whispering as he tightens his hold around Dean.

“Course not. I’m always right here Sammy.” That’s all it takes for Sam to let his eyes slip shut.

Dean can’t even think about going to sleep- too overwhelmed with worry- so he does what he did when Sam was little and starts to rub his hand up and down Sam’s back, counting the breaths he takes with each stroke of his fingers against Sam’s spine. He really hopes Sam’s acting a little more normal when he wakes up but just incase Dean makes a plan for if he’s not, going over the basic steps he used to do to make sure Sam stayed happy when he was a little kid, reminding himself of the habits Sam hasn’t shown in years but may revert back to. If Sam needs him to take care of him like he used to then Dean is going to make sure he does it right.

[cat-angel-936]

Español

*en un parque*

Chris: Zach suelta a esa ardilla ¡ella no te hizo nada!

Zach: ¡me estuvo lanzando bellotas desde que llegue!

Kate: no fue ella, no mientas

Zach: niña no te metas, los grandes estamos hablan-auch! *la ardilla lo mordió y salió corriendo*

Kate: *se tapa la boca sorprendida*

Chris: o por Dios Zach, ¿estas bien? *se hacerca con el botiquín* déjame ayudarte

Kate: ¿puedo ayudar?

Zach: e-esta bien *adolorido*

Una pareja random: que niña tan linda tienen, queríamos saber donde la adoptaron

Chris/Zach: ¿que?

Zach: ¡no es nuestra hija!

Pareja random: oh que lastima, se veían una familia tan minda *se van*

Kate: que raros ¿no? ... ¿están bien?

Chris todo rojo: si

Zach también rojo: ¿porque noblo estaríamos?

Inglés

*in a park*

Chris: Zach let go of that squirrel, she didn't do anything to you!

Zach: He's been throwing acorns at me since I arrived! Kate: It wasn't her, don't lie.

Zach: girl, don't get involved, the grown-ups are talking-ouch! *the squirrel bit him and ran away*

Kate: *covers her mouth in surprise*

Chris: Oh my God, Zach, are you okay? *grabs the first aid kit* let me help you

Kate: Can I help?

Zach: o-it's okay *sore*

A random couple: what a beautiful girl they have, we wanted to know where they adopted her

Chris/Zach: what?

Zach: she's not our daughter!

Random couple: oh what a shame, they looked like such a nice family *they leave*

Kate: How strange, right? ...are you okay?

Chris all red: yes

Zach also red: why wouldn't we be?

(tenía una imagen en la cabeza de esto y nesesitaba recreará, sino esto no estaría completo para mi. )

(I had an image in my head of this and I needed to recreate it, otherwise this would not be complete for me.)

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 3 🏁

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, sports rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, spice

Word count: 15.2k+

A/N: Curious who's going to catch the Tokyo Drift reference 😏 Hope you're ready for the storm cause lightning and thunder just met for real in this one. It was literal hell to write at times, but I wanted to get more accurate with it and bring you as close to the view in my head as possible, so sorry for the delay. Tried my hand at writing tension so I hope it's good. Enjoy lovelies. Smooches to you :)

Raiko's Playlist: Bad Boy - Red Velvet, High Horse - Kacey Musgraves, Antisocial - Ed Sheeran, Travis Scott, True Disaster - Tove Lo, "good guy" - Against The Current, Summer Jam - 99 RZNS, John Gibbons, KOOLKID, How Bad Do You Want It (Oh Yeah) - Sevyn Streeter, Pump It - Black Eyed Peas, Tokyo Drift - Teriyaki Boys, Morning After Dark - Timbaland, Nelly Furtado.

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Day 3 of Tour de Tokai - Final stages

The sun was up before you could catch any sleep, peaking through the thick blinds with bright beams. That brightness didn't bode well with the small hangover brewing between your pinched eyebrows. A remainder of the excessive amounts of champagne you drank last night and the really excited twosome next door, working hard to drill a hole in the wall behind your head all night long.

At one point, they quieted down and you were near falling asleep until they went at it again and again, and you contemplated sleeping in the bathtub.

Putting on your golden blue team kit and the darkest shades you could find in the mess of luggage, you packed and dragged your heavy bags into the hallway and pressed the button on the lift for reception. You caught your reflection in the shiny silver doors and thanked god no one saw you yet. Your hair was a half-tangled mess, hidden under the team baseball cap well enough. Only two days on the job and you already had sunken in eye bags, but those were probably from the amazing beauty sleep you had the night before.

I had better days, you blew out a breath pulling up your shades.

Bags checked out and safely loaded into the airport car until later, you headed for the track. Walking out to the biggest stand on the hill overlooking the road for today, you scanned the grounds. It was still pretty early but the crowds were already making their way to the stands to get the best seats - right in the sputter of a dusty drift corner. The dirt must be doing wonders for their skin if they paid so much to sit there willingly, you thought, grimacing at the dried up mud painting most of the sun-bleached seats.

At least it was a quiet spot to just do some people watching and wake yourself up. You watched the food court vendors open the back doors to their vans before getting to work on the food. Some people were sat on the trunk of their cars, huddled in blankets or hoodies, eating a makeshift breakfast before queuing up for entrance. The race marshals were putting up the access signs and doing other maintenance checks.

The spring breeze blew softly feeling like a refreshing cup of coffee you didn't have yet. Early mornings like these were the best. Just quiet and mundane. Slow and pleasant.

Your peaceful perusal was interrupted by a figure settling in on your right, mimicking your leaned back posture on the wooden fence next to the race banner, hands crossed over your chest and all. You didn't even need to look over to know who it was. The expensive combination of lemony vanilla and other bitter, citrusy fruits entered your nostrils like ten meters ago, before he even stopped next to you.

How can someone so irritating smell so good?

"How did you sleep?" he spoke, voice low and husky, still laced with blissful sleep. A luxury mere mortals are unable to acquire at the expense of divine hedonism. Though, if that was how gods fucked, you wished to never hear it again. The girl's moans replayed like a broken record in your head even now, voice sweet like cotton candy reaching impossible notes.

Jesus Christ, you shuddered, trying your hardest to get rid of the image you just accidentally put in your head.

"I didn't," you said with a tight-lipped smile, turning to the devil beside you. He did look well-rested. "Hearing your name being moaned until three in the morning kinda ruined the peace one needs to sleep."

"I told you to join us," he shrugged, like he was asking you to join a grocery run and definitely not a threesome call. "It was a good sex catch."

I hope that angel never comes across his dick again.

Staring ahead, you hoped that if you ignored him, he would make himself scarce like he did last night at the car reveal. Instead, he leaned over to your side, lips slightly brushing the side of your ear with another offer that made your skin crawl with tendrils of chills, branching out from your nape all the way down to your spine.

"You know, we could've moved the show to your room. Get you out and about with the masses. Learn a thing or two."

You could taste the malice in his voice, looking to throw you off with raw sex talk. He pulled back to his corner, that annoying grin bright as day on his face, way too enthusiastic about his choice of words after last night.

He should work on his sweet nothings some more.

"I have my fair share with the masses. Don't you worry your frozen little braincells with that," you said, trying to shake off those chills still dancing on your spine.

"Ah, so she does get action," he laughed dryly, tilting forward with another remark he was better off keeping to himself. "I couldn't tell."

A little burst of mischief raised in you, so you turned to face him fully, pulling your shades off. Your body acted on a mindless spurt of small revenge as one of your hands lapped itself around his shoulder, gripping the other in balance and to pull him towards you, while the other rested on top of his chest. Under your palm, his heartbeat was calm and steady, just like the engine of the car before the race.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scanned his face to see the ever-present amusement etched into every chiseled dent of his jaw, high cheekbones and perfectly angled lips. You wondered if dimples would pop out on the sides if he ever smiled for real, not just in a teasing manner or for show. Was he even capable of smiling?

The more your eyes drove up his face, the wider that eager glint in his eyes got. In the morning sun, rising brighter over the hill behind you, golden beams reflected off his orbs much like fiery bronze specks glinting off regal statues.

That eagerness turned to confusion when you inched closer to his ear, your lips brushing his in the same way his did. Your breath ghosted over his neck and you felt the smallest rise in his pulse, the muscles in his back tensing under your hold. You spoke small, but loud enough to cover the buzz of the rave music catching volume in the stands, making sure he received every single word.

"You know what would be a better catch?" you asked, tone sweet and tempting like a fiend.

His head craned down slightly and he quirked an eyebrow at you, curious as to where you were taking this. Only for it to not be in the direction he expected it to go in.

"Breaking that penis of yours in two and scattering pieces of it on the track like it's fucking gravel for everyone to drive over it. That," you enforced your threat with a swift gaze at his precious groin then moved your eyes back to his, "would be the catch of the year."

His lips parted in disbelief, the smug look on his face gone completely, as if you just detonated a bomb with his very own hand on it.

That was an unofficial war announcement. Jaw tightened in bold offensive, you stood your ground waiting for his retaliation. Your hand was still on his chest waiting for that spike to come again. But it never did.

Slowly but surely, the look in his eyes morphed to one of challenge, burning with the dire need to crush you to pieces for that daring threat.

Was this a novelty to him? A woman driving the reality train through his brain without having her legs open for him? Possibly. Because his smirk was now taut, filled with the same vindictive goading you carried. Just a tad bit darker and full of hunger for battle.

"I would like to see you try, rookie."

Rookie.

That nickname was starting to get on your nerves. Though there was no lie in it because you were a rookie in the sport, the way he said it implied that there was nothing else to you but that - a clueless beginner that will always stay a clueless beginner. Belittling at its finest. Your temper didn't buy belittling very well.

"Listen here you asswipe-" you started, only to get cut off by Don Tanaka's voice closing in behind you.

"Rai, the crew's waiting for... you..."

The words died in Tanaka's throat the more he took in how curled up you were with Naozumi. At first he was about to reprimand you for dealing cahoots with the enemy again, but when his eyes fell on the teeth grinding murderous looks you both threw each other, he decided on breaking it off before the interaction turned violent.

"Rai, step away from Naozumi."

"This. isn't. over," you gritted out with poison, plying yourself away from him.

Pushing your sunglasses back up your nose and throwing one more sharp imaginary knife right in the middle of his annoyingly handsome face devoid of imperfections, you sourly turned and left with Tanaka.

"I think it is, princess," he muttered behind you.

"Just you wait."

The really funny thing about curses is that they never truly... leave.

They might take a break and sip a cocktail somewhere sunny, like the big white-bearded gramps dressed in red does in his vacation after Christmas, letting you bask in some sort of chill ambiguity that all is well and perfect. Until nothing is well and perfect. Just absolutely horrifying and close to provoking a collective meltdown. Quite like the one in your team pen at the moment.

The team was gathered around the car with discouraged looks decorating all their faces as Sentaro, the main mechanic, relayed the news to you. Not one soul moved, everything and everyone as still as your shut off engine.

This had to be some sick joke. There was no way this is happening.

"What do you mean I can't go out on track today? You're joking right?" you laughed nervously, trying to stop your eye from twitching violently.

Apparently, the mechanics tried to start the engine and black smoke came out of it. While that issue was partly because of a clogged air filter that was vacuumed clean now, the engine also overheated to the point they thought it would blow up if they let it run longer.

From your brief experience with cars and growing up around the team garage, you had a feeling of what the issue could be.

"Is the dashboard blinking with the high oil pressure sign?" you asked Sentaro to which he nodded in response.

You were in front of the car in an instant, popping the hood open to check the oil injection. Pulling out the dipstick on a clean cloth your assumptions were proven right, though you wished they were horribly wrong. The rough dirt roads from yesterday definitely took a toll on the engine's oil filter, judging by the black sludge you were met with instead of the normal light brown color of the motor oil.

Dropping down to the ground with your phone's flashlight, you looked under the car and sure enough, there was a trail of the same dark goo leaking out from the car. The oil filter was the problem. And lucky for you, the oil specialized mechanic wasn't here today.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," said Tanaka, leaning on the side of the car. "There's nothing we can do."

Before you could even browse solutions, Kate ran in the pen nearly tripping over her feet. Thanks to Tanaka's steady hold, she landed upright on her feet, giving him a shy look of gratitude that didn't go unnoticed by you. They held each other's gaze for a while, not one thought behind them but a tinge of affection.

Realizing they had an audience, she cleared her throat stepping away from him. His hand shot up to rub his nape with a nervous smile.

What was that about? you thought, scrunching your nose inquisitively at the two. The faint blush spreading on her cheeks and the playful look in his eyes was a bit of a dead give away of what went on between the two. The car issue was more of a priority right now than their mutual fancy. I'll pester them about it later.

"What's up, Kate?"

Your voice seemed to break her out of whatever reverie she was having.

"The pre-race press conference starts in fifteen," she announced, eyes grazing over your team kit before flying back to yours with confusion. "Why are you not in your racing suit yet? What's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," you replied hastily.

You moved away from the car to grab your bag and went to change in the trailer with her following in tow. Turning back around, your eyes flew back to Tanaka and the rest of the crew.

If the big man was here, he would know what to do. But he left for Tokyo early in the morning for a business meeting with a new sponsor. You were completely on your own with the team, and from the looks of it, it was time to take the lead.

"Nothing you can do," you said with a small smile trying to bring some optimism back into the sour mood. "There's something I can do. Just don't touch the engine until I'm back from the conference."

"Also, go tell the organizers I'm retiring from the first stage and keep them posted on the second one," you told Tanaka, ignoring Kate's gasp of shock. "We might still have a shot at points today. We worked too hard to let that go."

With that, you ran back to the trailer behind the pen, getting changed while Kate's worries doubled and spilled over yours in a frenzy of overly dramatic and stressed hand gestures.

"What do you mean retiring from the first stage? Are you crazy?"

Taking off the kit with a grunt, you made haste for the fireproofs and the suit.

"Not crazy," you groaned, pushing your legs through the pants of the racing suit. "Just trying not to freak out because it won't help anyone if I do."

"The car has an issue that's preventing me from taking part in the first stage today, but I hope," you breathed out, struggling to pull the top part of the suit over your hips, "that we can somehow get it out on track at least for the second stage."

With the already smoldering heat outside and your growing nerves, the ensemble felt so uncomfortable to wear. Pulling your arms through the sleeves and zipping it up to your neck, you fiddled with the soft collar unable to close it properly. Kate swatted your hands away to help you fix it so you could be out the door. Though you couldn't do that without your driver's card that was nowhere to be found.

"On a scale of one to ten, how big are your hopes of that actually happening?"

You stopped your relentless searching for your identification lanyards only to find them in the safe hold of Kate's hands.

"A solid eleven," you paused, grabbing them with a grateful smile. "On a good day. We'll have to see if today is one of those."

You were out of the trailer in no time, heading for the conference room while she ran you through possible questions you could get asked by the stingy reporters. Before you went on stage to take your designated seat, she pulled you back around for a last check.

"You know what you have to say?" she asked, placing her hands on your shoulders to make you focus.

Narrowing your eyes at her with a 'I'm not a child' look, you recounted the rules of publicity she made you repeat before each press meeting. Or more like your very own not so accurate version of them.

"No snarky replies, wait for my turn and try to maintain the already crumbling image we have. No biggie."

She smacked your cheeks together, shaking you hard to bring you back from sarcasm land. Better sarcasm than a full blown meltdown. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic antics, reciting the actual holy trinity of rules to get her off your case.

"If it's not for my own benefit or the team's, don't reply. Avoid all questions about my or dad's personal life with a simple 'no comment'. Keep levelheaded and avoid conflicts of interest," you finished confidently, but with a slight confusion on the last one.

She nodded with a bright smile, letting go of your cheeks. Whirling you around, she made quick work of your hair in a ponytail and fixed your team cap on top of your head to look more professional than you felt at the moment.

"You've got this, Rai," she encouraged sweetly like she always did. "I'll be right here in case of anything."

"Thanks Yuzu," you smiled at her, trying to ease her stress before it rubbed off on you, turning you into a ticking bomb. "I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one," she quipped as a matter of factly.

"Yeah, yeah," you waved her off, turning for the stage. "I'll tell dad to add a holiday bonus to your paycheck."

"All debts are paid," she replied, sounding like an ATM machine that just cashed out your first salary before you even saw it in the account.

You went up the stairs, taking a seat behind your name tag, near the middle row on the lower side of the makeshift stage. Most drivers were already in their seats waiting for the show to start so you could all be on your way. You caught sight of Akira about two chairs down to the left, already clocking you with a small wave.

At least there's some sunshine in the world.

You leaned over the seat, turning the mic away. He scooched over, meeting you halfway with a short smile that was enough to send butterflies swarming wildly in your stomach.

"Hello there."

"Hi," you replied sheepishly. "You ready for today?"

"I hope so. The tracks today look way better than whatever the fuck those three were yesterday."

You both shared a horrified look remembering the disaster that almost left your cars in totaled wrecks the day before.

"What about you? Ready?"

"It's complicated," you looked down in disdain, conscious of the mess awaiting you in the team pen after the conference.

What was the point in elaborating further? He's going to see the scoreboard anyway. The retirement issue was better kept under wraps for now, in case press inched to you like leeches before they even got to ask you a question.

"Hogging my seat doesn't look that complicated."

That tone of mixed delight and irritation could only belong to one person. That and the shady vibes prickling the hairs on the back of your neck like the very shadows of death were about to swallow you into the underworld.

Sure enough, craning your head backwards Naozumi was right behind you. Alarm bells rang in your head replaying his words again. His seat? What the fuck is he on- Your eyes fell back on the name tag right beside yours, reflecting Naozumi Hiyama back at you, bright as the light of day. Oh.

Naozumi was to be seated on your left for the next half an hour. What a joy. For some poor sick bastard, definitely not for you.

How did I not notice it before I sat down? I could've switched seats with the backfield guys in a heartbeat and no one would know a thing.

Looking back behind you, your small hope was crushed as most seats were taken up already, busting your escape plan. Your gaze landed back on the man, now more interested to know how much of your conversation he heard.

"How long have you been standing there like a scarecrow?"

"Enough to almost physically gag at your conversation."

Ah, there he was. Repulsion in human form. Wonderful.

You bid Akira an apologetic smile and leaned back in your seat, letting nation's finest walk by to take his own. He held onto your backseat to let himself down in his. Leaning way too close to you again, you caught an extra accidental whiff of that expensive perfume of his, toned down by the scent of the burnt rubber fumes caught to his suit. You turned your head away with a breath, resisting the urge not to choke. From the snicker on his lips pointed downwards, you could tell he did that on purpose. Fucker.

It wasn't long and the press conference finally commenced. As expected you weren't first in line for questions, both to your relief and growing unease. Your thoughts ran back to the car. The longer you spent here, looking pretty for the media that could care less, the less time you got to spend on fixing the car. Changing the oil filter was relatively less time consuming than the oil draining and changing. Besides, who knew if there weren't other problems. There were always problems.

Tapping your feet impatiently under the table, your eyes trained on the digital clock at the back of the room, mentally pushing the flickering red dots bouncing between the numbers a tad bit faster. Boring questions aimed at the other drivers went in through your ears, fading together, getting lost into an incorrigible mess of side thoughts, all while you dissociated somewhere far away.

At some point, something heavy moved on top of your leg that seems to have taken on incessant bouncing. You broke your eyes away from the clock to check. Thinking it must have been a bug or your sleep-deprived hallucination, you were beyond surprised to see a hand resting there, all five fingers of it splayed wide on top of your knee, nearly enveloping it whole.

Following the path of the muscular, veiny hand to the grey material going up the plush arm of a racing suit, you found it connected to Naozumi's shoulder. His gaze was set ahead with his chin propped on his other hand, a bored look taking over his usual amusement.

Is he looking for entertainment again?

Focusing your attention back on the press crowd, you went to push it off briskly. You felt it slide off your leg, shutting your eyes in relief that he let go and didn't put it back, going back to your daydream.

The clock ticked by infuriatingly slower, and by the looks of it, only ten boring minutes passed. You resumed your foot tapping, unable to keep cool without releasing tension in a way that kept you calm and levelheaded for the rest of the conference. You even started repeating Kate's set of three rules, again and again, until they blurred together in your head into a mess of words.

Unconsciously, you resumed the knee bouncing. That's when the same familiar weight sat back on top of your knee, trying to cease your restless shaking. You groaned mentally, aware that there was nothing else you could do but let his hand sit there until he got bored of being annoying.

Was it weird that the touch gave you a small ounce of comfort? It was so far from an actual touch, closer to a simple brush. But it grounded you back to reality in a less impatient way than your nervous foot tapping.

Jesus, Rai. The man fucked the sleep out of your brain last night. He's trying to get under your skin.

Leaning forward on your hands, you shifted your position so your feet crossed under your seat in hopes his hand would slide down again. His grip never lessened, turning firmer on top of your knee, seeing right through your trick. You huffed a breath through your nose, trying to calm down before you shoved your fist heavy with rage in his beautiful face to do some overdue damage, since he was asking for it so nicely.

In your line of sight, you saw him reach down for his water bottle, right beside his leg. His hand trailed down your calf with the movement, only for it to slide back up to its original spot on your knee.

This wasn't anywhere near comforting. This was teasing. Maybe even payback for this morning for invading his space with violent threats of castration. The side of his lip curled up in the slightest, letting you know he was enjoying tormenting you a whole lot.

Since he's so into masochism, we'll see how brave he is next time when I sneak in a lighter. The suit might be fireproof but I don't think his fingers are.

Somewhere between Naozumi's idiotic game and your patience running thin for the male species, the press finally remembered you existed and your name was called out by a reporter.

"I'm Hina from Daily Times. I have a question for Rai Suruki of Suruki Racing."

"Go on," you nodded with a smile.

"There haven't been a lot of female entries to rally in past years. Are there some goals you hope to achieve with your participation in the Seiko Rally Cup Series?"

That was quite a nice question. She seemed a little unsure of herself, probably new on the job since she was already being mangled down by the experienced male gazes in the room, especially from the reporter clique.

Turns out rally isn't the only industry where women are not welcomed.

"Well," you started, "I hope that if more girls see me out there on track, they can gain the courage to get racing too. Be it karting, rally or any other series. I grew up seeing my father's generation race and it felt daunting getting into it in the first place, since there was little to no female involvement. But times are changing and I hope it's for the better. Goal-wise, I would say the biggest one is to get girls into the sport, technically or behind the wheel," you ended with another smile, making sure she got a good amount of detail to work from.

That encouraged her to show you a bright smile in gratitude before she sat back down. You nodded back at her with one that matched.

"For Raiko Suruki, from Automotive Racing," called out another reporter, much older than the rest. "Heard the car is totally self-manufactured. How's the pace on track so far?"

Ah, technical questions. I like those.

"So far it's good. We're still testing bits and pieces to see what works best, but so far it's responding well to our tinkering. Like any car there's setbacks, as you may have seen in the previous stages, but we're working to remedy that and maximize its current performance. There's a lot of power under that hood and we're trying to see just how much of it we can bring out."

He nodded, scribbling down your words in a stacked leather notebook filled to the brim that has definitely seen better days. At least that said he's passionate about the sport and not just here to get a quote for a flimsy article. True to that, he geared up with another question.

"Performance progress-wise, do you think it's a car able to compete for the cup this year? Maybe even to reach the WRC?"

It was a reach to aim for the title, knowing the team barely got back on the road. But it was a goal nonetheless.

"Absolutely," you answered right away. "We wouldn't be here if it wasn't. As for the WRC, I guess it's all in due time."

"I'm looking forward to your evolution. Thank you," he concluded his short round of questions, sitting back in his seat.

"One more question for Miss Suruki," shouted another reporter. "From Tokyo Action Sport."

Uh-oh.

Tokyo Action Sport was one of the big ones Kate told you to be wary of. Due to their huge coverage of all sports around the country, sports buffs took their word like it was the weekly Ten Commandments in print form. That and the fact that they liked to scandalize most, if not all of their headlines - basically the foul celeb tabloids in dirty sports version.

From the way the reporter twirled the pen around his nimble fingers and the sneer on his face as he skimmed over his fancy notebook, you could tell he was looking for another front page story with an equally disarming question at the ready. You nodded for him to talk, bracing yourself for the incoming attack.

"Last night, at the official car reveal, you said you will compete for Suruki Racing until the team no longer wants you," he started, lifting his icy eyes from the paper to cut through you. "Does that mean your contract has an expiry date?"

If there was a question that, when uttered out loud, would have the power to open the gates of hell, it would be this one.

Expiry date? Driving for the team that has my name on it? Fuck me if I know.

Your nervous tapping resumed tenfold, forgetting all about Naozumi's hand that was still stationed on your leg, now struggling to stay there in the wake of the shaky earthquake coursing through you with the sharp truth of the real world.

You never thought of the possibility of driving for another team. Right from the start, Suruki Racing was to be your forever home. For Christ sake, you were the only hope for the team to stay alive at the moment. But that was just your opinion, maybe Tanaka shared it. But the team might still be adamant to take you as their only viable option and that might just be the case for your father too.

Nothing guaranteed that you will always be their number one choice.

"Why did Suruki Racing pick you out of the wider talent pool out there?"

"Are you trying for yourself or for him?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

Your nervous shaking was several tempos away from rattling the panel table and attracting attention you were better off without at the moment. The aftermath of that happening was already in sight.

Suruki Racing's finest cracks under the pressure of her first press conference, would read the first page in the later Sunday print.

Is Suruki's own bloodline able to keep the legacy with no surety of a long-term contract? another one would say.

If you were lucky they would put it on the second spread or in the middle pages next to some old car adverts. But the worst part of it all is that the majority of the rally community, including the panel of drivers around you, would wholeheartedly agree with the newspapers.

Maybe this was just you making movies in your head but those were always possibilities upon possibilities and they all pointed to failure. Your failure of saving the team and seeing it succeed if you caved in to them.

The weight on top of your knee moved higher up your leg, stopping mid-way on your thigh. Enraged out of your mind, you were about to swat if off like a fly just when Naozumi did the unthinkable - his thumb started rubbing the side of your leg in circles over the suit, alternating patterns. You could feel that touch burn even through the triple permeable fireproof layers, sending all your senses in override, heartbeat pounding louder in your ears with each languid stroke of his thumb.

Was he trying to calm you down? Or was this him riding on the wave of anger surfacing from the depths of your very being to make you inch closer to exploding? Because there was a thin line between the two and you struggled to find which direction he was steering in today.

Strangely, that mildly provoking but oddly comforting caress worked. It calmed you down and drowned the black hole your mind went down into, bringing your focus back on the task at hand - giving the reporter an answer before your silence was taken as one.

"I'm afraid not," you responded, your voice bouncing back way too quiet on the microphone for it to sound like you were sure of yourself.

A handful of chuckles erupted behind you, rippling down into the audience and the rest of the media crews around the room.

"Everyone has an expiry date on their contracts, doll," commented a gruff voice from behind you. "Better find it out before the press does," they added with a chuckle.

You turned around to match the rude remarks with Katsumi's face, driver for Top Rank Racing. From what you knew about the man, he's been in rally long enough to know that he was right. Though he could've delivered that a bit more nicely.

Casting an unsure look at Kate, you saw her beckon you to say something else, mouthing several pointers that fell unheard with your growing unease. There was nothing else to say. That was the pure truth. No one had a safe seat in rally, except if you were Akira with loads of talent or Naozumi with a shit ton of cash to throw around. But you... you were lucky if there was a next year for you at all. And that might just be the case for your team too, whether it takes off or it burns to charred ashes again. Whether they keep you with them or not. And that realization hurt the deepest of them all.

"There you go again with useless questions, Misano," spoke Naozumi, successfully diverting your attention away from a meltdown.

His voice carried out smooth like whiskey over the shushed murmurs in the room, able to charm the attention of even the stingiest creature. His dark brown eyes were throwing sharp daggers with the aim to impel the man in the middle of the press convoy, almost like he had some personal vendetta against him, able to see past his journalistic tricks better than anyone.

From the few words he uttered your way you could tell why.

"Why don't you wrack your brain for something more interesting to ask?" he added bitterly.

Misano could only glare at him, shifting his attention from you to the man beside you, much more poison seeping from his tone at being interrupted.

"I was just about to get to you Naozumi. Impatient as always," he sneered. "I do have a really good one," he chuckled lowly to himself, like he was about to get the scoop of the century.

Naozumi was absolutely unfazed by his tactics. Just like you were, before he opened his mouth.

"You and Shinkai are in quite the fight to reach the higher ranks of the WRC. Did you solve the misunderstandings from last year to prevent more incidents from happening this time around?"

Naozumi laughed dryly at that, averting his eyes away from the man so overzealous for drama. When his eyes fell back on him, it wasn't with the same playful gaze reserved for toying around with people, but with raw hunger to rip him to shreds until every other word he was dying to write was out and cut to tiny little pieces on the floor.

Even you shuddered at the intensity of that look. You thanked the heavens it wasn't directed at you. If you were in Misano's shoes, you would shove those words back down your throat and run to puke them out somewhere they would be more well received, like the trash can outside, right around the door. That might do everyone in here a favor.

Naozumi finally let go of your leg, turning around in his seat to face the press with more interest. You breathed a small sigh of relief at the loss of contact. But a small part of you mourned the reassurance it provided for a short while, letting the nerves about your future race back up your spine again. At least they were dimmer now, since you put your focus on the charade of power to your left.

"If by misunderstanding you mean forced damage to my car," paused Naozumi with an icy grin matching the gaze that never once faltered from Misano, "then no, we didn't solve anything."

He delivered that affirmation so smoothly that even you leaned over the table to get a better look at him. Contrary to the calmness in his voice, there was a furious annoyance taking over his features. One far more irritated than the other looks you've seen him sport in the past three days.

"You can't solve misunderstandings with hardheaded people," piped in Akira, matching the same sweet venom in Naozumi's voice.

Naozumi could only smirk coldly, dropping his gaze to his team racing suit before he aimed it at Akira.

"That's where you're wrong," corrected Naozumi. "You can't solve misunderstandings with irresponsible people that can't admit to their faults."

It was Akira's turn to be vexed, staring down the man on his right. Those eyes, softer than melted chocolate, turned into the most violent tempest catching speed by the second. Though he wasn't necessarily asked a question, he was just as involved in the one served to Naozumi, so he turned to Misano with a comment.

"I think what Naozumi means by that is that some things are better left in the past. Or swept under the rug for the sake of it."

Point, aim and shoot.

"Let's leave the talking to the track," grinned Akira, patting Naozumi's shoulder in feign respect.

Naozumi broke into a toothy smile, tongue coming out to swipe over his teeth in disbelief. That smile grew and grew until it matched Akira's, just like a Cheshire cat. Then he leant over to him, whispering something in his ear. A threat you just so happened to hear.

"Stay the fuck away from my track. And don't fool yourself that thing was accidental to free your conscience" he mumbled.

The cameras flashed to immortalize the moment, making sure to get all sides of the burning declaration of war. They held each other's gaze with impending rage, pumping hard enough to blow out big dark fumes like messenger torches.

Keeping levelheaded and avoiding conflicts of interest was a rule their agents were probably negotiating with them, not even close to being able to enforce it.

From the looks of it, there was way more tension between the two than they let on with those loaded glances passed from one end of the paddock to the other in between stages. They had history that was better left unraveled for the sake of the rest of the season.

I take it back. The car reveal was a baby next to this shit show.

After that, the rest of the conference went by uneventfully. Surprisingly. The stifling tension however, was still palpable in the air. It was crazy how just one question from Misano turned the mood salty real fast. He hasn't asked anything else ever since, sitting merrily in the audience with a smug smirk, utterly pleased at causing an uproar.

The rest of the reporters went for decent questions as the drivers geared up for mayhem on track. As soon as the organisers let you, you dashed outside, welcoming the fresh breath of air and freedom away from that purgatory room.

Got nine more of those to endure.

"Not bad for your first press conference, rookie."

Was that supposed to be an encouraging pat on the back? If anything it sounded haughty and kind of condescending.

Does it hurt him to shed off some of that superior complex thing he has going on?

Upon remembering his game back in the conference room, you whirled around to him instantly, backing him in a corner so no one could hear your murderous intentions. The flames inside of you were leaping high and violent again. But that must have been the Naozumi effect at this point - setting you on fire then walking away only to come back and kindle you again whenever he saw fit.

"Don't ever touch me again or I will rip your hands and shove them down your cars' exhaust. Understood?"

"It was a good distraction though, wasn't it?" he smirked, pinning you with that knowing look of his that made you want to spit fire like a dragon.

"It was so fucking unnecessary-" you stopped, the rest of your words dying in your throat. "It was so -," you growled. "You're so -"

You gave up on speaking. There was no point in explaining why punching him was the right thing to do because the more you looked at it you realized he was right. That playful stroke was a good distraction from going berserk with all those demons patiently waiting to pick you apart like flies that dove into shit on the side of the road. Even if it was for a while, he managed to calm down your stormy temper. It was a miracle for anyone to even do that in the first place.

He leaned down to you, stopping just a few inches off your face. His eyes drifted down to your lips for a brief second before securing your gaze again with that dark look of his that has probably disarmed more girls than you could count on all your existent fingers, hands and toes included.

"That's what I thought," he said as teasingly soft as a brush on canvas.

Before you could say anything else he walked off, leaving you dumbfounded with your tongue poking your cheek, and kind of questioning your sanity.

He's so goddamn infuriating.

Back in your pen, you took off the suit, changing back in the team kit and made a beeline for the car. There was no time to waste. The crew gathered around you in a heartbeat, waiting for your directions.

The skilled gazes laid on you, full of years of garage work, made you very aware of the fact that they expected full professionalism from you.

God, I hope this works.

"Okay so, we need to change the oil filter," you started. "The oil inside is contaminated and from the looks of it, it's not usable anymore. The filter itself appears to have blown a gasket, so that too needs replacing," you finished in one breath.

"But our oil person isn't here today," Akio, one of the mechanics, pointed out.

"Mister Hinode isn't," you sighed, hoping the old man was enjoying himself for taking the day off today of all days. "But I am. I watched him change enough oil filters back at the garage to know what I have to do."

"Very well. Lead the way," he replied with a nod, fully placing his trust in your hands.

Though slightly unsure, the rest of the team followed. Looking back at Tanaka, you saw him nod too, letting you know he had your back. At the silent show of support, you pushed the nerves away and got to work in your full element.

"What I need from you is a car lift, a drain pan, the new oil filter, and four or five liters of motor oil," you told the team. "Draining it will take about an hour, more or less, and replacing it a little less in theory. We have less than four hours until stage two so we can't afford to lose any time if we want to get something out of today."

"You heard the girl," clapped Tanaka, moving to get all hands on deck. "Let's move."

You turned to Sentaro and the electrical engineer.

"I need you guys to run the electrical checks again, now and after I finish changing the filter, in case anything else goes off and needs fixing so we're on top of it ASAP."

"Got it. Also, regarding the oil pressure, it was on high levels last night when we brought it back from the event, but we thought it was from being out on track for so long," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. It can happen out of nowhere too, especially considering the roads I drove it down yesterday. But do ping Mr. Hinode in case there's something we're missing."

"Thanks, Raiko. You're a lifesaver," he said, walking back to his laptop.

Eh, I'm a what now? you blinked trying to take that compliment in. Shaking yourself out of it, you rolled up your sleeves to your elbows and worked to lift the car at an angle you could fit under it.

Pulling over a creeper, you leaned back and got under, looking for the oil plug under the dirty chassis. Finding it right away, just a little off the underside of the front bumper, you unscrewed it with a wrench. Barely twisted open, the splotchy black goo started spilling everywhere, much more liquid and disgusting than you thought it would be. What was on the dipstick was nothing compared to what spilled out on the sides of the plug. It smelled horrible, like murky grass and three days old mud had a biochemical hazard lovechild. And there was about four liters of that to drain out.

The more you unscrewed the plug, the more it splattered everywhere, some of it flying in your hair. Jerking away so it wouldn't land in your eyes, you turned the plug tugging it off completely. The oil flow doubled right away and you realized you should've had the drain pan under it before you unscrewed it.

"Fucks sake," you grunted, holding out a hand to whoever was close by. "Loosen the oil cap on the top and hand me the drain pan."

A hand pushed the drain pan into your own and you moved fast to shove it under the oil drain, to avoid more of it staining the asphalt.

You slid out from under the hood to breathe in some fresh air, meeting with Kate and Tanaka's faces, looking at you with matching disgusted looks as they took in your very contaminated appearance.

"Your face..." started Kate, pointing at your face as she pinched her nose.

"All natural," you shot back. "You should try it sometimes."

Tanaka howled a laugh as he pulled you up from the ground, handing you a few clean cloths. You wiped your hair as best as you could, frowning at the dirt coming out of it. That will take a lot of showers to take out.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait. And make other checks on the car to make sure nothing else is broken."

Come on, pick up.

Pacing the dusty ground above the stands, you listened as the line rang and rang, each dial tone pumping the nerves back in your system. You were starting to regret this until he finally picked up on the seventh ring.

"I'm in a meeting right now," filtered your father's shushed voice through the phone.

Of course he's in a meeting. That's why he left early this morning. In the chaos with the car and the press, you forgot all about that. Now the scope of the call didn't even really seem that important anymore, preoccupied with the fact that you interrupted something that probably was.

"Raiko? Are you there?"

A car whizzed past on track, pulling roars of cheers from the crowd, prompting you to find a quieter corner.

Was there even a point in asking that?

Fuck it. Just get it over with.

"Does...," you started, but the rest of the words got lost somewhere in the mess in your head. You took a deep breath and tried again, this time sounding a bit more composed. "Does my contract have an expiration date?"

He could tell something was off. You could be as composed as you wanted, but your father could always pick up on the uncertainty laced in your voice.

You heard shuffling, rushed goodbyes and a door closing shut, before a chair creaked. His voice came through more clearly now.

"Of course not. I told you you're welcome to drive for Suruki Racing until you no longer wish to."

Those were the same words you said out loud to the reporter just last night, so sure of yourself and knowing what you wanted that it would be impossible for anyone to second guess it or even challenge your claim to the seat in the team. Until smug-face opened his mouth to comment on it in the press conference today.

"Is everything alright, Rai? I know I left in a rush but if there's anything you need, please let me know."

"Everything's alright," you reassured him, trying to sound more on top of the situation than you felt. "Sorry for disturbing the meeting."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I could use a break," he chuckled, making you chuckle too.

It was so good to finally talk to him like that. Like you were father and daughter for once in a while, before being team principal and driver.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked again, willing to listen to any concerns you had, big or small.

"Yeah," you sighed softly. "It is now. Thanks dad."

He could tell there was more to it than you were telling him, like the issues with the car and missing the first stage, but you didn't push it. Tanaka would catch him up on it later anyways. There was no use in railing him up on a plane right now.

"Always, firebolt. Good luck out there."

That always was your I love you. He wasn't one to be a softie for cheesy stuff, like blurting out those three words, but that always never failed to reassure you that you'll get through anything and come out on the bright side. No matter what.

"Good luck to you too," you piped up, ending the call.

Looking ahead, you caught sight of the Spica Racing blue hues right on time, approaching a rocky corner. Naozumi took it so effortlessly before diving into the last drift portion taking it wide, closer to the barrier, lifting the dust and gravel off the ground to fly off in the stands like a gust of sand.

You backed away coughing a little, shaking your head with a smile at the gesture that was one hundred percent intentional.

At least someone's having fun today.

You got back to the pen at the same time Naozumi pulled up. He got out of the car much more pleased with his run than he has these past few days. He didn't even yell at his engineers this time. Peace and quiet ruled the Sigma Racing pen surprisingly.

Unfortunately for your short lived peace of mind, he caught sight of you and turned your way with a smile as wide as his pride must be flowing in from head to booted feet for completing a stage this nice. If only you had the chance to go out on the road too.

The closer he got to you, he eyed you from head to toe, taking you in all your muddy glory, scrunching his nose at the smell that was still glued to you like you sprayed on intense dirt road cologne. The nasty kind that barely washes out of your clothes after rolling in it. Your clothes also reeked of motor oil. If someone had a flint they might as well light you on fire if you just breathed in their direction.

"What happened to you?" he frowned. "Did you DNF into a bush of skunks or something?"

"Haha, really funny," you deadpanned. "I didn't even start the race for that matter."

Throwing a look at the scoreboard in your pen since it was closest, he scoured all the names of the drivers until his eyes landed on yours, staring back at him with a DNS in bold letters, right at the bottom of the grid. Shameful and defeated wouldn't even begin to explain your sour mood.

"What? How did you even manage that?"

Was he actually concerned or was he just planning to fumble the bag for more insults based on your answer? Closing in on the playful glint in his eyes, it was probably the latter and you were not in the mood for it. At all.

"Engine issues," you sighed, slumping in defeat.

It's been half an hour and you were still waiting for the oil to finish draining before you could actually fix anything. Time was ticking away and so were your hopes of somehow participating in the second stage.

"You missed a spot," he said, gesturing to your face.

Bringing your hands up, you wiped them everywhere coming up entirely clean. Is he seeing things?

He shook his head before coming closer, wiping his thumb over the tip of your nose. Your heart thrummed in your ears, drowning everything else around you but his touch and how close he was. Feeling the callused pads of his fingers on your skin, without all those fibrous layers of the suit between you, felt like being touched by millions of sparks of electricity at the same time. Heat surged on your cheeks quicker than you could hide it.

Him being him, he just had to ruin the moment. Not that there was one there.

Instead of getting the splotch of mud away, he smudged it all across your cheeks with a grin.

"There. Much better," he concluded, stepping back from you, proud of his outstanding work of art.

That only provoked you, flipping the switch on your rage. You kept it under wraps long enough and at this point, he was just asking for it. Not your fault his decency sensors must have been broken since he was born and folded in a blanket.

"I told you not to touch me ever again," you rasped, swatting his hand away a bit too violently.

"Hmm, I don't recall," he hummed, wiping his thumb on his suit to get rid of the dirt splotch he scooped from your nose. "It was probably an empty threat."

An empty threat? Hah. He's really starting to piss me the fuck off.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Because he had many of them and most of his recent issues included disturbing your peace on an undetermined period.

"I don't really have a problem, rookie," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Stop calling me that," you seethed. "I'm not a rookie," you breathed out with eyes closed to try and calm the fuse inside of you before it blew. Though you didn't mind if it blew in front of Naozumi's face and set him on fire a little.

"Oh, but you are." He took a step closer to you, broad shoulders branching out to appear more intimidating. "Need I remind you that you stepped foot in the car not even two days ago? A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

"You think you're the shit, don't you?"

"And you are?" he chuckled darkly. "You don't have the guts for it. Why don't you go back to being daddy's little spoiled princess, driving plastic cars, since it's very obvious you can't drive a real one?"

Naozumi had a talent at making sure his words drove straight to their recipient, cutting deeper than intended, at times with a purpose more painful than the edge of a knife could do damage.

But words were empty to you. You trained yourself not to believe the little white lies and rumors people tried to feed you to stay as far away from letting it affect you as possible. This was just another one of those confrontations meant to throw you off and undo the steps you've already done on the climb towards the top.

Hard pass on downgrading. But nice try.

"At least I'm not the idiot that wrecked the car in the easiest turn in the whole region just yesterday, driving it full speed with an engine failure only to blame it on my team. It takes real skill to pull that off."

His jaw ticked with fresh blood. You definitely ticked a nerve with that. If you're throwing knives at each other, might as well throw them deep just for the funk of it.

"At least I didn't get a DNF and a DNS first time on the job. Your father may have put that winning image in your head to motivate you, but if you think it will be that easy, you're wrong. You will always be a rookie and there's nothing you can do to help it."

If that was supposed to make it hurt more, boohoo, it missed it's mark. Kinda late to the pity party. Might invite you next time.

"Oh, you're one to talk," you scoffed incredulously. "You're nothing without your team and you can't even see that. What's gonna happen when they all walk out and leave you stranded to work on the car all by yourself? Will you magically pay your way out of it by hiring other people?"

"That's none of your business," he hissed.

"Real drivers help their team," you growled.

You were overtaken by a sense of kinship for your team stronger than anything the world could say or throw at you. He probably knew nothing about what it means to make constant sacrifices for something you love body and soul. But he sure had the nerve to come and preach it to you like a total hypocrite since the rules of normal society apparently don't apply to him but they do to everyone else.

"You don't get to tell me how to be a driver," he shot back, tone becoming more menacing with every word.

"And you don't get to trample all over my hard work. My team's hard work. Don't talk to me about privilege when you're living off it just fine."

You didn't even notice you closed the distance to him, getting right up in his face, seeping into his space once more, this time with a different kind of savagery - one that felt a lot like unleashing chaos. You were a brief remark away from spearing your claws out for some physical atoning.

"You don't know shit," he growled, towering over you. "So I suggest you to back the fuck off."

"Or what?," you gritted back.

The corner of his lip turned up with a dark wicked smirk, a warning pledge of fast approaching colossal disaster, just like the words rumbling out of his throat, low and deep like thunder.

"I'll make sure the rest of your time here," he paused, raven eyes boring into yours with intensity before he whispered the last words a mere breath away from your lips, "is a living hell."

A living hell?

I'm already living hell, pretty boy.

You simply chuckled at that. He had no idea that you laughed in the face of danger. He must have thought you were crazy for it. It took more than a threat to steer your wheels in that direction. The direction of sin.

His head tilted in slight confusion at your reaction, though his eyes never left their furious fire behind. You quipped a brow, silently accepting his challenge, wondering just how far he could go to prove a point and preserve his pride in the face of a mere rookie.

"I'd like to see you try."

"You're gonna regret this."

This man loved to make enemies with everyone. But he picked the wrong person to start the fight with. Unfortunately for him and his loud wrathful thunder, vengeful lightning always strikes twice. Always.

"We'll see about that."

Not another word came out of his mouth. But you knew better than to accept his silence as a retreat. His mouth curved, a devilish grin over it, as if he already started devising a wicked little plan in his head to pull the earth from under your feet when you weren't looking.

Regarding you with one more look full of hatred, he pulled back, walking off to his pen.

Little did he know, he just met his match.

Regrets... you had many for yourself. But you were sure as hell that him of all people was the last one to add to them.

Never in a million years would you let that happen.

I wouldn't wish hell upon anyone. Especially mine. But if I had the choice to curse one person in the whole wide world right now...

I would curse him in a heartbeat.

You were sitting outside the pen, glaring at Naozumi's back, until Tanaka called out to you.

"Raiko. The oil has drained out.," he said, stopping in his tracks. "What are you doing out here?"

Googling ways to overcome your enemies with the power of forced distance.

"Nothing," you scoffed, heading back inside.

Time to get dirtier than my soul.

Taking your place back under the car, you worked on changing the oil filter with a new one. Screwing off the old filter entirely by hand, the leftover oil spilled everywhere again. At least there wasn't that much left in the basin to really stain anything.

It would've been nice not to have to do this with your bare hands, but you've been Mr. Hinode's human flashlight enough to know that the filter can only be tightened by a bare hand to make sure it's in the right spot and that none of it can leak out.

"Could you hand me a filter wrench?"

"Here," popped in Akio's head, who now became your human flashlight.

"Thanks."

A little shimmying and the old broken filter finally popped out with the rest of the oil leaking out down your arms. The last drop fell on your forehead. A good luck omen? We shall see.

Passing it to Akio, you motioned to him to shine some light on the broken filter. You noticed the head gasket was indeed damaged.

"Is the new filter ready and rubbed with oil yet?"

"Yep. Good to go?"

"Yeah."

Checking the engine block with the flash light one more time to make sure there weren't any other bits or parts stuck inside, you tried putting the new filter in. You struggled to make it do inside the engine block, moving down a little farther under the car. Not a fun thrill to experience with a ton hanging above you lifted by a tool weighing less.

Please don't crush me, hun. I drive you but I can assure you that you don't want to drive me.

Spinning the part to the right, you finally got it in, puffing out a breath. You screwed it on until you felt it stop turning. You gave it another spin with your hand before you tightened it with a wrench the rest of the way.

"We should be good to go now. Pour the motor oil in."

One of the mechanics poured the oil in on top. You waited to see if any of it would still leak out only to see none.

The new oil filter was successfully attached.

Well fuck me, I just did that.

Rolling out from under the car, you breathed out a sigh of relief as the team started applauding you and howling your name out of nowhere.

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

They all laughed at your antics. Tanaka and Sentaro pulled you up as the rest threw their cloths at you to send you to shower. Your team kit was sticking to you like you just took a dip in an oil lake, save for the sweat rolling down your back. That one belonged to you.

"You smell as bad as the car after a day on track and I'm saying that in the nicest way possible," said Akio.

"Haha, really funny," you laughed, throwing some of the cloths back with oil stains. "If I had a hose I would drench you all. Don't tempt me."

Little did you know that someone came around to check out what the ruckus next door was about. He watched you from the sidelines, running around to smear the oil on your hands on whoever landed in your range of attack. Most of them didn't even move, welcoming your attack with defeated smiles. The corner of his lip tilted up in a delighted grin at the scene.

Maybe I underestimated her.

"Everything's got the green light, right?"

"Yes, Raiko," Tanaka reassured you for the hundredth time since you stepped in the car. "All other car checks came out good. Stop stressing."

"I'm not stressing."

Well, you kinda were since you lost a lot of points by retiring from the first stage. You needed a clear head before the race and after today it just wasn't happening. You fixed the car before it was time to race, but if you didn't do right by this one, you could kiss any advancement ahead in the series goodbye.

"You saved us today. Any other driver would've ripped their contract to pieces in front of the team if they had to get anywhere near motor oil."

"I think you're forgetting I'm not just any driver," you smirked, pulling your helmet on. "Let's do this shit."

You went out there and enjoyed it for the first time this weekend. Your run was smoother than anything else today. The corners were mostly wide, mid-range turns, and the car felt great with the new oil change. It would be another 3000 miles before you had to change it again and hopefully, the filter would last longer than that.

Even Tanaka seemed to enjoy himself. He didn't reach for the door handle not even once like he was used to whenever he was in the car with you. You did accelerate faster in some turns watching his hand come up halfway only to stop and retract back.

"6 left 100. Flat out."

One hundred meters left to the widest corner left in the race.

Come to mamma.

The dirt flew up in the air behind you, leaving a trail of dust on each side. You dove closer to the left where the stands were, taking the last corner with a large drift that rose up huge clouds of sand from your rear. You heard the roars of the crowd before the puckers from the slide over the gravel, all getting lost in the rave music booming through the speakers.

This is what racing was about. Leaving it all in the hands of the wheel for two minutes where the world quieted down. Being on a one track mind.

Once every driver went for their run, you sat on the hood with the rest of the team waiting for the final update of the track times. You chewed your lip in thinking, tapping your foot on the floor.

I hope all those sacrifices weren't in vain. We all worked way too hard to fall off the track right now. We need this right now.

The scoreboard loaded to display the first three names and all heads perked forward. No one spoke. Not even the wind dared to rustle a banner.

1st place - Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory

2nd place - Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing

3rd place - Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works

Naozumi's ego was strong today. He just so managed to bag podium after that whole show of arrogance. Fucker. Pushing your annoyance for the man away, you focused back on the board.

Come on, load faster.

4th place - Katsumi Ishibashi - Top Rank

I can kiss top five for Tour de Tokai goodbye. So long world.

5th place - Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing

What the fuck-

Loud cheers erupted all around you like the national football team just won the World Cup. That was totally impossible but you did it. You placed in the first point rankings. You were in top five! Still far away from the podium, but at least you didn't fall off the scoreboard.

Before you even said anything, the screen updated to display the Drivers Championship standings so far.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing - 61 pts

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 53 pts

3. Neil Emerton - Cusco Racing - 47 pts

4. Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works - 38 pts

5. Fairuz Badawi - Eliot Racing - 31 pts

6. Katsumi Ishibashi - TOP RANK - 28 pts

7. Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing - 25 pts

"It's not much, but they're good points," said Tanaka, patting you on the back. "Amazing work today, lightning strike."

Turning back to everyone, you called out to them. The team gave you their full undivided attention. Your team. Most of these people saw you grow up from a rowdy teenager into the driver you are today. They were more than your team. They were your extended family. You owed them everything.

"I know dad's not here today, but someone has to do the honorary speech" you clapped your hands together, trying to will some normal words out.

"I wouldn't have been able to get out there without you guys. You're the reason this team works like oiled parts, no pun intended."

Some of them laughed at that. You happened to have your father's humor.

"I know there's no podium celebration for us this time, but I will work even harder to bring it to you soon. For now, please rest up, eat well and stay safe. The Fuji Highland Masters round is nearby so we need to get in the gear for it soon."

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Guys, please stop," you giggled, suddenly flustered at all the attention. "Come on, go home. Before the organizers kick us out."

Grabbing your duffel bag with your things, you went back to the race banner. You pulled out your phone and took a photo of it and a selfie.

Your career officially started. It was a rocky start and the climb up to even get a chance at podium was even rockier. But you were willing to fight for it with your teeth.

Suruki Racing was born again this weekend and you were planning to keep it alive for longer than it has before.

Turning around, you cast a look at the podium. Naozumi just received his trophy, smashing the champagne bottle to spray the crowd. That million dollar smile was back on his face, wider and brighter than you've seen it. It almost looked real. Among all that lust for fame and money in his blood, he looked like he fit right in with the haze of celebration. Like he was made to be a winner.

On the other side of the podium, Akira lifted his 2nd place trophy too, fully enjoying the squeals from his fans. You didn't know what came over you, but you pulled your phone out to snap a picture of both of them for safekeeping.

Spotting you on the side about to leave, Akira took off in your direction. His hand tugged on your arm to spin you around.

"Hey!"

"Hey, you," you smiled. "Second place, huh?"

He looked down at the trophy with a small smile, not really reaching his eyes like usual.

"Yeah. Not my best drive but it's alright."

"Could say the same."

"Are you coming to the party?"

"The famed afterparty on Naozumi's yacht?" You looked back at the podium, watching him throw the champagne bottle down his throat, spilling everywhere on his suit in the process. "No, thanks. I'll pass."

"He wants everyone on the grid there. Though I would much rather not go, my agent said it's good publicity. To tame the media after that stunt today or something like that. So, come with me."

After declaring each other mortal enemies, you wanted nothing to do with Naozumi at all. Not even being in his range of view. Going to a party, on his yacht, in the middle of a body of water was the last thing you needed.

"I'll think about it."

A staff member came to pull him away for a quick press interview. He seemed adamant to leave but you waved him off. You were in need of a shower before the mud became one with your skin.

"I have to go," he pressed his lips together in a smile, dimples popping on the sides. "See you back in Tokyo?"

"Sure."

Would going to that party be so bad? I could definitely use some alcohol and if it's free, why the hell not? He must have expensive alcohol on board. I can let my pride go for a free drink.

There was no lie that Tokyo's skyline looked so magical at night, especially on a yacht ride down the central river. Skyscrapers stretched out into the sky, multicolored lights blinking back at you with sparkles. The rich really had this superb view every night and they barely took a ride here if it wasn't for business purposes.

At least yours truly knows how to pick a party location.

Speaking of the man of the hour, you counted about eight girls around him from your secluded spot at the bar. You could hear their high-pitched voices all the way there, asking him all kinds of questions about himself and the car. He just hummed in response to all of them, focusing his attention elsewhere.

If today wasn't so shit and he didn't literally declare war to you, you might have just been a tad bit happy for him. The most you mustered was a mumbled congratulations when you boarded the ship. He just passed you a grin and left it at that.

He doesn't deserve my cheerfulness. He gets it from the world enough as it is. Plus the fact that he invited everyone on his yacht just in spite.

None of the drinks at the bar were for free and most were too expensive for your pocket, so you had to drink a mocktail. Even his hospitability was in mocking.

More girls scooched closer to get a piece of him, tanned arms and bare legs brushing up against him from all sides. He didn't even seem to be bothered in the slightest that his space was being taken up. But he did mind when it was you doing it.

"Then let's make a toast again!"

"Cheers!"

"Congratulations on being the champion!"

The girls cheered and clinked glasses, sipping on the expensive champagne. He joined on the clinking too, though he didn't drink with them, keeping his glass aside.

His eyes drifted from the champagne glass in his hand to you. The small smile on his face turned into a smirk of provocation. A smirk that went right to the epicenter of your rage. He came to kindle that fire again.

Before you knew it, you made a beeline through the crowd stopping right in front of his table. The girls shot you disapproving looks, sizing you up and down in every way they wanted. Picking apart your messy, tousled hair. Your tomboy outfit. Some even mumbled something about your nails not being in fashion. You shot them a look and they stopped looking at you altogether.

Naozumi just regarded you with a knowing look, averting his eyes to the water surrounding the boat in dismissal. You just stood there with your arms crossed, waiting for him to stop his passive ignorance.

"Got something to say to me, rookie?"

Would he explode if he just called me by my name?

"I do actually."

"Then," he extended a hand around one of the girls getting more comfortable with her. She snuggled into his body, giddiness taking over her for getting so close to him. You could feel the jealousy oozing off the other girls, waiting for their turn. "Let's hear it."

He really does have a thing for public humiliation.

Akira stepped beside you, lightly pulling at the sleeve of your leather jacket to get you away from trouble. Little did he know you loved trouble more than anything in the world. Especially when it involved a certain know-it-all with an annoyingly handsome face.

"Rai, let's go," he muttered, aware that some people turned around to watch the scene. "You're better than him. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"I wasn't talking to you, Shinkai," spat Naozumi, not once lifting his eyes away from you. Not even when the girl at his side caressed the side of his neck with obvious want. "Go lick the boots of your own team principal."

"Talk, rookie. Or did the cat get your tongue?"

You want war on and off track, Naozumi?

You have it.

The words were out of your mouth in a heartbeat, not one thought behind them. Nothing but the sole need to see how he would react to being challenged publicly.

"Let's settle it on the road. You and me. Our cars back at the docks."

An illegal race on the streets of Tokyo. Might as well be career suicide for some. But you had way too hanging by a thread, while he only had his pride. Taking that away would be like shoving him off his throne and sitting on it like it was yours.

Best case scenario, you win and leave him with a shattered ego.

Worst case scenario, you lose or end your career.

The only good thing was that the odds were in no one's favour out there on the road. It took skill to win an illegal race in a city that was built up on street racing of the highest stakes.

"What does the winner get?"

"Always so set on winning, aren't you? Would losing something dim your small manly pride?"

His tongue pushed his cheek in the same annoyed manner it would at his brother reprimanding him for being incapable of listening to simple directions.

"That's between you and me," you added, settling on making this as private as you could.

The sudden realization was written all over his face. He knew what you were referring to since you threw his very own words back at him.

"A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

Ripples of gasps echoed around you, people already murmuring things about you. Until the rumors started being directed at Naozumi and his ability to drive. It was time for him to prove himself worthy of the crowd as well.

Naozumi sat back swirling the champagne in his glass until the liquid was left without bubbles. He seemed to give it a good thought.

There was that curiosity dancing in his eyes again. The same rush of novelty measuring up on your very own. He wanted to know where you would take this if he gave you the chance.

"Fine by me," he said, taking you up on your offer.

Shaking off the female arms circled around him, he got up and threw back that glass of champagne emptying it in one go, before calling out to the captain to turn the boat around. He walked to you, stopping mere steps away from you.

"Where?"

"The hill over there down to the docks. No time cuts, no tricks."

"You shouldn't drive after drinking," you remarked.

He smirked, taking one more step towards you. "Are you worried about me, princess?"

"No," you said, taking one step in his direction.

One more step from each of you and you were chest to chest, facing off like it was a real battle for the very pride of driving. People made a circle around you, staying away from the tension already wafting through the air.

He bent down to your ear. "To settle your worries, it was non-alcoholic champagne. But don't let them know. I keep my alcohol for the big wins."

He really was the biggest asshole on the planet.

The two of you were the first to get off the boat and find your cars, driving them up the top of the hill with some of the crowd from the yacht following right behind. It would be a drive down through traffic and tight corners but it looked much more doable than the roads you've driven through today.

You heard his car purring before he pulled up next to you turning in your seat to gawk at it - a midnight blue R8, a beast of a car compared to yours.

It was an older model, so overpacked with modifications it made your head spin. Nothing on that car looked like it belonged on it and you had a hunch that long hood curving over the engine held a lot more mysteries than the outside body of the car.

He rolled down his window, leaning a hand over it to check yours out too. He scanned it back to front and from the twinge in his lips, he appeared impressed by your weapon of choice. Who wouldn't gape at it when yours was a collection car worth more than three of his yachts together.

"Veilside RX-7. Not bad for a rookie."

He sounded genuinely respectful.

"Thanks."

"I'll give you a five seconds head start," he added.

"I think you could use them a lot more than me," you shot back.

He revved his V8 engine, roaring it to life like a lion looking to claim his rightful throne. You did the same, revving your V6 longer to prepare it for the sprint race. Your engine missed two cylinders and some horsepower but yours had way better grip on the road. Though small compared to his speed intake, you had a shot at winning this.

He was big and wide, a monster under the hood but one that got swallowed on serpentine roads like the one that awaited you. It was a show car. It wasn't made for racing. That and your car was smaller and bunchier, meaning you were able to whizz through corners much faster if needed.

He can't beat me at what I know best.

I was born with the drift in my veins.

And illegal street racing?

Not my first rodeo, pretty boy.

Someone walked to the front stopping between your cars. It was the blonde woman from last night. Shorts that were shorter than your lifespan climbed up her buttocks, joined by a tank top that hugged her boobs better than any of your bras could. A checkered flag hang in her hand, getting rustled by the cool night breeze.

"Not too late to back out," he piped up.

"See you at the finish line. That is if you can keep up," you said, rolling up your window to avoid more of his attitude from seeping inside your car.

You cast a look down to your right at the docks then turned back around to the road.

On second thoughts, Tokyo's skyline looks way better from up here.

The blonde rolled her hand with the flag calling out a count and holding up her fingers. The crowd cheered behind you, already getting gassed by the fumes burning out through the exhausts.

"Three."

It's not about how fast you go.

You revved the engine loud, feeling the car shake with the raw horsepower under the hood.

"Two."

It's about how long you go fast.

Throwing a look at Naozumi, you caught him looking right back at you, that shit-eating grin back on his face.

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

The flag barely hit the floor when you pressed the gas like a madman. His extra horsepower propelled him a few meters ahead of you. You kept close on his tail, letting him take the tight corners before you so he felt it on his own skin that this wasn't the type of road to get cocky on. Not with a million dollar car like his.

Passing the first two corners, he moved to the middle of the road to cover more ground. He must have realized his car takes way too much space to even drift. And this was a drifting road.

The next corner gave him an opening to shift gears and drift. You went on the outside, trying to overtake him but he was way too wide to get past. You needed a wider corner.

Moving around a rocky hillside, you noticed the road barriers curving down into a wider path, less narrow with more flow.

Naozumi slowed down, reducing his drift angle in the process, rear jerking in a light drift. That's my cue. You pulled the hand brake, pressed down the clutch then quickly stabbed the gas, turning the steering to the left. Accelerating, you flew past him, sliding in front of his car over the middle of the road, slick and smooth like butter on a hot frying pan.

The next turn was just as wide. He accelerated trying to get past you and he almost did if you didn't know him any better. You took the drift faster than him, with the risk of letting the car skid off the road. The tyres screeched loudly at the excess of pressure. Thinking fast, you dropped in the clutch moving down in second gear, finding the sweet spot where the rotations aligned and swerved left into another perfect drift. The roaring growl of the engine was music to your ears.

This is how you drive a car, baby.

A few more turns and you skidded out into intense night traffic. The move from rough to slick asphalt sent your rear wide in the middle of an intersection, passing a red light and being honked at from all sides of the intersection. Naozumi followed right behind you, mere meters away from smashing into your tail lights if you slowed down in the slightest.

You entered a tunnel, whizzing past city cars as fast as you could, overtaking them in fast twisting zig zags. Going back down the hill of the main road, he slid in beside you, pushing the car to its limits to close the gap to you. You didn't let off either, dropping down another gear to rev the engine and push past him.

The docks were just a few blocks away. So close.

Police sirens howled loudly in the distance. One look in the rearview mirror and sure enough the red and blue lights shone bright behind you, heading for you and Naozumi.

Three more police cars pulled up two blocks down, trying to block the street and the two of you from passing through. You shot him a quick look he shared with you, fully aware that this was going to get messy. He threw his head to the blocks on the side, wanting to take the longer route and go around. You laughed at that, turning back ahead.

Go hide, Naozumi. I like to face things head on. You should try it sometimes.

Pressing the gas pedal to increase the speed, you slid in front of him and went through fast. The hands on your speedometer went past 120 kmph. If the officers didn't want to get crushed, they had to pull away. But they didn't. Not that you wanted them to.

You cut the gas, tapped the clutch and steered left really tight, drifting down the lane of the street that was left unguarded. You held on tight to the wheel to stay in control of the car as the force pushed you into the door. Your tyres skidded with a screech at the amount of power, but you drifted into that lane and got the car back around straight, leaving the law enforcement behind you.

Two hundred meters in, you repeated the same maneuver this time to the right and steering wide, diving into another turn down the street, completely losing them. The farther away you got, the less you could hear the sirens. They didn't follow.

One thing about police here: they didn't give a fuck if they didn't stop you on the first try. With the amount of street races around Tokyo at night, they gave up on speeding tickets too. If you can do better than one-eighty they can't catch you. They just liked showing up for some ruckus for people to know they were worth their taxes.

Naozumi slowed down behind you, unable to understand how you got away. He followed your drift on the stretch, miscalculating how wide and low he was as his wheels got up on the sidewalk, scraping his front bumper in the process.

Circling around the last blocks with him in tow, he raced up to you, catching speed until he reached you again.

Now it was finally head to head.

Eight hundred meters stood between his dignity and your career getting knocked off and thrown into the river. None of you backed off, increasing the speed to inhumane limits. Not even the rally cars went this fast. The tyres gripped the asphalt hard, engine thundering under the hood, wheel quivering in your hold the faster you drove.

Five hundred meters.

On your left, his R8 got closer, trying to take away from your ascent. A lower portion going under a bridge came up ahead with a tight corner between the pillars. You veered under it, drifting with his car at the same time. He took the inside pushing you off into the rocky sidewalk as payback for his scratched bumper. Your rear wheel caught onto it, swaying the car off the road. The tremors shook your seat the more you drove over the rocks and you managed to get off it just before you smashed into the pillar, sliding back on the road.

Motherfucker.

You pushed the car even faster to catch up to him. You played fair and square and he was pulling tricks. Fairplay was in the trash at this point when it comes to him. What was worse was that you expected more, but maybe that was a mistake.

Three hundred meters.

The size of a football stadium stood between you and the finish line. The docks were now in view, tall and shabby warehouses littered on the sides of the road. Time for Plan B.

Just because I don't have one between my legs doesn't mean I can't act like a dick too.

You let go of the throttle, slowing down to fall behind him and tailed him, sticking to his end like a leech. He liked to play dirty. At least he could have a taste of his own medicine.

He tried to shake you off, going in chicanes and slowing down in the process. He was growing impatient and it showed because you weren't letting off his tail not in even a little, keeping close to his end. If you had more horsepower you could've kissed his back bumper for shits and giggles.

He tried his hardest to lose you, turns getting Once he steered right really wide, you took the opening and accelerated, speeding through ahead and leaving him behind. You turned to wave at him with a smile as you passed by, bolting through to the end.

You whizzed past the redhead waving the checkered flag, getting the crowd yelling as you drifted around them, lifting some of the dust up in the air as you did some victorious doughnuts. Naozumi pulled up behind you and you circled him a few times before you stopped in front of him.

That dark look in his eyes was full of hatred just a few hours ago. Now, it turned furious with rage, pride absolutely shattered. He took a gamble on your inexperience and he lost the game he started so confident in his own powers.

Everyone rushed to your car to cheer on you. You got out shocked at the crowd pooling in. Akira bolted through the endless mob of people, reaching you and bringing you in a bone-crushing hug you couldn't help but melt in.

"That was batshit crazy! We could see everything from down here."

"I know," your voice came out muffled from being tucked in his shoulder. "I can't believe I did that."

"Well," he pulled apart to hold onto your shoulders, "believe it 'cause you absolutely just did that."

The crowd started chanting your name and you couldn't help the giddiness overtaking your senses. Some of those people were either drivers or really famous and they were calling out your name with excitement.

You might have fallen off the track today but you won the crowd tonight. This was yours to enjoy fully and no one could take it away from you. You earned it. You proved that you belonged on the road.

Naozumi finally cut the engine off. He slumped back in his seat for a moment before he got out to inspect the damage on the front of his car. You walked over to him to see him threading his fingers over the scratched paint stretching over to a dent, covering a good part of the corner in front of the right wheel.

"That looks nasty," you said.

He shot you a look filled with hatred. That graze looked worse than nasty could describe and from how he grinded his teeth in annoyance, it looked like it was entirely your fault in his head.

Not one word was uttered between him getting back in his car and speeding away, leaving his victory celebration for you to enjoy.

I think I scratched his ego too.

Akira slid in beside you, eyes trained on the back of his car, watching it drift away until you could no longer see it.

"Is it wrong that I feel bad for him?"

"Nah, you earned this. He's just complicated." Then he paused, rotating to you. "Frankly, I don't think anyone threw him off his high horse this hard before. Not even me," he said with a grin, happy at Naozumi's demise.

Maybe he was right. Naozumi was a really complicated person. But the more you faced each other on and off track, the more you got to know more about him. And the more your hands inched closer to unravel that puzzle on the shelf with his name on it.

One thing was for sure.

After today's events, that plastic foil on his puzzle box was entirely gone. And one of your dying curiosities was satisfied tonight.

You now knew what made Naozumi tick.

And it wasn't losing.

🏎️Glossary of terms and other useful information 🏎️

The Points - Points in rally get awarded on a top 10 places basis. Depending on the placement at the end of the final stage, the score one gets differs. First place can get as high as 25 points, while tenth place gets only one point. *The last stage is called the Power Stage, giving drivers in top five extra points in the overall standings.

Drivers Championship standings - The overall points gathered over the course of all rounds. If you're familiar with F1, it is the equivalent to the Drivers' World Championship standings.

Downshift - One of Raiko's favourite things. Changing gears from an upper one to an inferior one, where the car revs up before it speeds up. Also the sweet spot where the rotations align and the engine roars.

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Taglist: @ellisaworld @howimeetyoukit @jonnelpunk @nadlx33333

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Love Across the Galaxy 🌌 | Helmut Zemo Imagine

Contains spoilers for GOTG Vol.3

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Baron Helmut Zemo x Roman Goddess/Guardians!reader (romantic), The Thunderbolts—Baron Zemo, Bucky Barnes, Thaddeus Ross, Valentina Alegra De Fontaine, John Walker, Ghost, Justin Hammer, Taskmaster, Yelena, & Red Hulk (platonic), The Guardians of the Galaxy—Quill, Mantis, Nebula, Drax, Rocket, Groot, Kraglin, & Cosmo (platonic)

Content Warnings: profanity, light angst, fluff, mentions of death, fighting & violence, spoilers for GOTG Vol.3 (don’t read if you haven’t seen it!) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: In which Baron Helmut Zemo, hater of the Avengers and desire to rid the planet of enhanced beings, becomes a member of the antihero team led by General Thaddeus Ross & CIA Director Valentina Fontaine where he meets the legendary group of misfits turned Guardians of the freakin Galaxy and loses his heart to a Goddess with a love for 80s music and talent for cutting of limbs.

Note: GOTG Vol 3 has permanently altered my brain chemistry and I cannot stop thinking about it. Truly the best film since Endgame & it’s inspired me cause I’m also back to loving Zemo again. I refuse to believe Marvel would give us a Thunderbolts film w/o Zemo so I will make sure he’s in this team.

After learning about all the Gods in Thor: Love & Thunder, picture you are Minerva, the Roman Goddess of Wisdom & War (Roman equivalent to the Greek’s Athena) and has cosmic powers similar to the Eternal’s Thena and has been with the Guardians since the events of the first GOTG film.

————————

Fall 2023

“I don’t see why we need these people to help us,” Zemo rolled his eyes, strolling beside General Ross with the rest of the team around them. Once outside the cool breeze hit him, ruffling the lapels of his coat as his eyes squinted from the bright light.

Ross lets out a tired sigh, “Because, Zemo, as much as it galls me to admit it this threat is far beyond what we can deal with. It’s not terrestrial and chances are these…” he had trouble coming up with the word, “let’s just say they’re more experienced for this situation.”

They all stop before the flight line. It’s clear all around them with no sign of an approaching vessel.

“Who are these guys again?” Justin Hammer popped some jelly beans in his mouth. John looks down at the file in his hands, making a face as he does.

“They call themselves…The Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“Oh God,” Bucky moans, immediately making mental notes to protect his mental arm knowing a certain talking animal was on the hunt for it. He was gonna have to sleep with one eye open.

Zemo raises his brow, “Friends of yours, James?” Bucky is not pleased by the assumption.

“I wouldn’t call them that.”

“Aren’t they part of the Avengers?” Ava’s tone is slightly disapproving. While Scott Lang and the Pym/Van Dyne’s helped her, she still got bad rep despite doing what she did to survive.

Zemo, not happy with the idea of working with Avengers, snatches the file from Walker.

“Not technically,” Ross replies while Zemo reads over the page. “They arrived with Thor in 2018 against the first battle with Thanos, remained an associate to the team while continuing whatever the hell it is they do in space, and returned in 2023 to defeat the purple bastard once and for all.”

“Did you fight with them, Bucky?” Yelena asks from beside the soldier.

“Yeah,” the memory appears in his mind. Specifically where he grabbed Rocket by the scruff and spun them in circles to cover more area as they fired off their guns. “Our interactions were brief…but memorable.”

The Baron had seen many things over the years, like the rest of humanity with the formation of the Avengers and reveal of intergalactic and enhanced beings, but to stay he wasn’t thinking, ‘what the fuck?’ by the picture in front of him would be a lie.

An earthling turned ravager, a blue mercenary, a woman with antennas, a genetically engineered raccoon, a living tree, a gray alien that could take down Thor, a man with a metal Mohawk, a telekinetic dog, and an exiled sword wielding Goddess. All misfits and outcasts, mostly space criminals turned superhero guardians of the cosmos.

Well….they were quite the bunch.

“They are not still with the Avengers, I take it?” Zemo wanders around, eyes lingering on the Goddess. White streaks adorned her natural hair color, eyes gold and lips painted with what appeared to be a permanent smirk. She wore a gold and white headpiece that had an owl extending its wings.

Name/Alias: Minerva, Goddess of War; Race: Deity; Planet of Origin: Caelum; Age: approx. 2500 yrs (39 Earth yrs); Occupation: Warrior/Mercenary/Defender of the Andromeda Galaxy; Allegiance: The High Council of Caelum (formerly), Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor, God of Thunder, The Avengers (formerly); Abilities: Cosmic manipulation, enhanced strength, agility, speed, & durability, thermal detection & mental teleportation; Specialization: artillery and battle strategy.

Ross let out a sigh, “only when the planet is about to go to shit due to an intergalactic threat. Which we’ve now got on our hands, but considering the Avengers are all on sabbatical I’m sending you in,” he checks his watch, “but I need all the extra hands and like I said, they’re experienced.”

Zemo stares at the blank sky, “How will we know they've arrived?”

“Believe me,” Ross mutters under his breath. “You’ll know.”

A loud rumbling noise caught everyone’s attention, gazes turning upward as a hexagon shaped breech in the sky revealed a very large spaceship in its wake, followed by the distinct lyrics of AC/DC’s ‘Back to Black.’

“Back in black. I hit the sack. I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back. Yes, I’m let loose. From the noose. That’s kept me hanging about.”

“Oh my,” Yelena breathed out, hair flying back from the gust of wind. Zemo lifted a hand to cover his face from the leaves, as did the others, many wide eyed.

“I’ve been looking at the sky. ‘Cause it’s gettin’ me high. Forget the hearse ‘cause I never die. I got nine lives. Cat’s eyes. Abusin’ every one of them running wild.”

“Great song,” Justin voiced, grinning from ear to ear. The ship made its descent, music getting louder.

“‘Cause I’m back. Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back,” it approached the tarmac, “Yes, I’m back. Well, I’m back, back.” wheels hit the tarmac, engine powering down but music still blasting, “Well, I’m back in black,” the ship doors opened, revealing steps extending to the ground, “Yes, I’m back in black.”

It was almost like a scene from a movie. Slow-motion if one will by how the Guardians exited their ship and stepped foot on the tarmac with AC/DC on full volume. All dressed in their new suits of red and blue leather with the Ravager flames on the chest.

Arriving in style.

Quill led with the rest flanking his sides. Drax munching on snacks while Nebula looked menacing and Groot towered over everyone. Cosmo had her tongue out in excitement, Rocket carrying his gun strapped to his back. Mantis’s chin held high, like she was on top of the world and Kraglin trying not to appear lost. Lastly Minerva was drinking a caprisun, Ray Bans covering her gold eyes.

Zemo tilts his head in amusement at the sight. He expected the Goddess, of war nonetheless, to have a more menacing approach like Nebula considering her reputation. But she was just as relaxed and laid back as Drax.

The Guardians walked several paces until they were directly in front of the Thunderbolts. It was then the music stopped, Ross being the first to address them. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

Quill gave a smug grin, “We know.” Hands go to his hips, “You’re wearing a suit so you must be the boss man. Although I believe there’s also a boss lady we’re here to do business with.”

“Director Fontaine is currently occupied. She’ll be arriving in the morning.”

“I assume we won’t be knowing a damn thing until that happens, huh?”

Ross tightens his lips, “You assume correctly.”

“I told you we should’ve handled it on our own,” Minerva’s glances to Quill annoyed. Surprised by her voice, Zemo's eyebrows raised at her sudden input. Her accent was slightly Italian given her mythological origin is Roman.

Quill clicked his tongue, “We don’t have authority here, Minnie.”

“Midgard is part of the Andromeda Galaxy. Technically we should.”

Now the man was giving her a pointed look after Ross’s body language turned defensive, “I’d rather not get our asses thrown in Earth’s prison system. We go by the rules—the ones we established.”

Minerva grumbles under her breath, finishing the last remnants of her juice pouch, “Would’ve finished the job faster. They wouldn’t even know we were here.”

“Okay well, we’re doing things this way. We’re here as a team to work with a team. Right, Mr. Secretary?”

Ross’ disapproving eyes linger on Minerva, who in return rolls her own, before turning his attention back to Quill, “Yes. Now let’s move on shall we?”

He lets out a breath of relief, “Agreed.” Bidding a warning look to each of his teammates, they all wait for what the man in the suit has to say. Ross extends a hand to the people on either side of him.

“This is my team. All with different levels of skill and experience. Justin Hammer is our tech and weapons specialist,” Justin gives a wave, “Yelena Belova,” Ross points to the blonde in a white tactical suit, “former Black Widow and master assassin.” At the mention of Black Widow Rocket, Nebula, and Minerva all tense, faces becoming solemn at the memory of Natasha. They were the three remaining Guardians during the blip, becoming close with the Avenger.

“Ava Starr, she can phase through anything,” they all look impressed, finding the talent cool. “Antonia Dreykov, who we like to call Taskmaster.”

“Why’s that?” Kraglin asked intrigued.

“She has photographic reflexes and can mimic your fighting powers. Basically use your own moves against you.”

“Niceeee,” all the Guardians echo. Ross points to the two individuals in between Zemo and Yelena.

“Our super soldiers, Captain John Walker and I believe you all know Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky tightens his mouth with a curt nod.

“You still got that arm on ya?” Rocket muses, earning a nudge—well more like a kick—from Minerva. The rest of the Thunderbolts besides Bucky all become wide-eyed at the talking Raccoon…even though it said on the file he could.

But how the fuck else were they suppose to react to a talking raccoon?

All Bucky does is glare, “Don’t even think about it.” Rocket shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

“Why is that one carrying a giant frisbee?” Drax’s mouth is filled with Zargnuts. Walker, the man in question, becomes visibly offended.

“It’s a shield not a frisbee.” Zemo bites back a smirk at the soldier's tone. Not to mention the Guardians' reactions were priceless.

“A shield?” Mantis repeats confused.

“It’s a frisbee,” Drax mumbles.

“Like that circular object Minerva conjures to deflect attacks,” Nebula tiredly explains. Mantis’s mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’.

“And lastly,” Ross sounds just as exhausted as the cyborg, “Baron Helmut Zemo, former intelligence operative.”

“I am Groot,” Zemo’s attention goes to the tree alien, confused by his words. Minerva, seeing his expression, addresses it, “He says he likes your fancy cape.”

‘Cape?’ He thinks, but doesn’t comment on it and his perplexed reaction makes Minerva smirk. Instead Zemo says, “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Thank you.” Groot’s pleased, grinning wide like a child.

It’s then Quill’s turn to formally introduce the Guardians. The Thunderbolts bite back their own amusement at the nicknames and surprise of hearing the dog, Cosmo, speak through her suit with a distinct Russian accent. Afterwards Ross leads them all into the hangar, Minerva removing her sunglasses now that she was inside, allowing her gold eyes to be visible.

From there they all interact, awkwardly for the most part as they have no idea what the hell to do as they wait for further instruction. It soon becomes bickering and even challenging someone in hand-to-hand combat.

Well, what can you expect when a team of heroes meet a team of villains/anti heroes? Rivalry at its finest.

“Any day now, Quill,” Minerva groans, relaxing her stance. Across from her several feet away was Walker, confused by why she was taking so long to attack. They were standing in the middle of the squared off area with the teams surrounding them, but giving enough space to avoid being in the crossfire. Quill was scrolling through his Walkmen.

“What’s he doing?” Zemo whispers to Kraglin, eyes flicking back and forth from the human Guardian and the Goddess.

“Trying to find a good fight song. You know, get the vibes going.” Out on the square Minerva lets out a loud huff signaling her annoyance was increasing.

“Just give me another second—.”

“Quill.”

“I almost got it.”

“Pick a goddamn song!”

“Fine!” Quill shouts, randomly selecting the first one his finger hits. A second later Duran Duran’s ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’ blasts through all the speakers attached to the Guardians arms. The antiheroes become perplexed, while also noting the song choice. Justin and Yelena started to bop their heads.

“Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

Minerva smirked, retaking her stance. As she lifts her hands, cosmic energy around her consorts to physical matter, taking the shape of a spear and shield in either hand. Wide eyes take over the Thunderbolts.

“Woman, you want me, give me a sign. And catch my breathing even closer behind. (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do)”

“Wow,” Justin exhales. “In touch with the ground. I’m on the hunt, I’m after you.”

“That’s so cool,” Yelena muses, others muttering in agreement. “Smell like the sound, I'm lost in the crowd. And I’m hungry like the wolf.” Keeping his admirations to himself, Zemo watches the scene unfold in silence.

“First one to step or get thrown out of the square loses,” Bucky shouts over the music, “Ready….” Walker clutches the strap of his shield, Minerva twirling her spear once, “Fight!”

“Stalked in the forest, too close to hide,” Walker lets out a cry, charging at the Goddess. “I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side (Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do,” Minerva blocks his attack, pushing back slightly only to crouch to swipe at his legs, “High blood drumming on your skin, it’s so tight,” Walker dodges her spear, but fails to avoid her kick to his chest, sending him backward. “You feel my heat, I’m just a moment behind.” He brings his shield up in time as her spear barrels down at him. “Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do.”

They continue their one-on-one for several minutes, both coming close to getting the other out of the square and the song changing to ‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways—a favorite amongst the Guardians. The entire time Zemo was mesmerized to say the least. Every move she made was effortless, showcasing strengths and ability to predict Walker's moves.

He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman in so long. And here he was experiencing a feeling that was almost unfamiliar.

Ultimately Minerva wins the battle in what one would call a divine move. At the peak of the song, Minerva’s golden eyes glow bright resulting in the eyes of the owl headpiece to also glow and become animated. It takes form, coming to life and soars straight at Walker, throwing him off by covering his face.

“What the—uuugh!!” He’s flying through the air, back meeting the harsh ground with an audible groan. The owl leaves him, returning to Minerva and consorting back into a headpiece. When it does her eyes dim back to their normal hue. Her team broke out into whistles and hollars, meanwhile Walker’s were unimpressed.

“Guardians for the win!” Rocket cheered.

“I am Groot!”

“Never underestimate the power of Duran Duran!”

Minerva helps Walker up, “Not bad, soldier.” As she turns to head off the pad, her eyes lock with Zemo’s and a wink is sent his way. Heat rises in the Baron, glancing away to hide his smirk.

Oh boy, trouble was on the horizon.

Next Yelena went against Nebula. Their fight was even more intense and nearly ended in a draw. Eventually Yelena overpowered the cyborg and got her to step out of the square. It was a tie. Groot and Rocket teamed up against Ross in the form of the Red Hulk—which took a lot of convincing—the two claiming the win after fooling the General. Taskmaster beat out Quill, handing his ass to him which had the Guardians in a heap of laughter.

“I enjoyed that more than I should have,” Minerva teases, crossing her arms as she takes a spot beside Zemo. He glances at her, mirroring her expression.

“Not a common occurrence for your friend to lose a fight?”

She scoffs, “You’d be surprised by his record.”

Lastly Bucky went toe-to-toe with Drax, and of course Rocket had to yell, “Take his arm and give it to me!” And well….it ended with them tackling each other out of the square.They didn’t know who won at that point, so the teams were tied 2-2 initiating a debate on who should be crowned the best.

“Okay, let’s call it a day,” Ross announces, ending the squabbling between the groups. “Night’s upon us and frankly I could use a drink. We’ll return here first thing in the morning—7am sharp to discuss the threat and where to go,” he turns to Quill, “we’ve got sleeping quarters arranged for you all if you please. Otherwise my guess is you’ll remain in your ship?”

About an hour later, after both teams settled for the night, Zemo decided to take a walk around the flight line. It became a habit of his since joining the Thunderbolts. A way to clear his mind after a long day of briefings and training. He basked in the peace that came with being alone, but there were times he felt lonely and longing for company to share the peace with.

Ten years since losing his family and the pain never strayed. Yet, he managed to live with it. He accomplished his goal in 2016 when he tore apart the Avengers. Likely is to blame for the loss against Thanos resulting in half of the universe’s population turning into dust for five years.

Did he feel remorse for the consequences of his actions? Possibly. Did he regret it? No. At this rate he’s accepted the reputation he painted himself to be.

“Zemo, correct?” The sudden intrusion spooked the Baron, jumping slightly by the glowing eyes in the darkness. A moment later Minerva stepped into the lighting, eyes dimming to normal. She was still in her suit, though her hair was pulled back, white streaks seeping through the natural color.

“Yes, but you may call me Helmut,” he replied, nodding in greeting to the Goddess.

“Helmut,” she tests the name, “like the headwear people use when they ride bikes or spacesuits?”

“That’s one way to look at it, but yes I suppose so.”

“Interesting. What brings you out this late in the evening?”

He shrugs, “wanted to get away from the constant complaining of my comrades,” eyes go to the sky, “and I like to admire the stars.” Minerva moves to his right, glancing up as well.

“They’re much more incredible up close.” He peers down at her, not bothering to question her judgment. She lives in space after all.

“I bet so. I’m sure the view from here is nothing compared to what you’ve witnessed.”

She shrugs, “These stars you don’t even know if they’re still alive. It took years—possibly millions—for the light to reach Earth.” Zemo looks back up, focusing on the North Star.

“For all we know they burnt out ages ago.”

Their eyes connect, Zemo feeling a weight on his chest by the intensity of her gaze. It’s followed by unease when she says, “Natasha told me about you.”

Instantly he looks away, feeling an unfamiliar wave of dread. “Ah.” Here was a discussion he was not expecting, nor willing, to have.

But Minerva didn’t show criticism. In fact, her gaze and tone resembled understanding. “How do you do it?” The question took him aback.

“Do what, exactly?”

“Align yourself with people who go against what you stand for?” Minerva’s tone wasn’t condescending at all, only curious. “Most of your team are enhanced individuals—two are super soldiers to be exact. You went to many lengths to disband the Avengers and put an end to superheroes,” there’s a slight tilt of her head, eyeing the Baron with intrigue, “but you join a group consisting of people who fall between the spectrum of hero and villain where most are the exact thing you wished to eradicate. Not to mention led by two people you wouldn’t say you share similar moral values with. Why join them?”

For the first time in his life, Zemo was at a loss for words. Not a single word uttered as he tried to comprehend what Minerva had just confronted him with. How could he explain? Hell, he didn’t even know the real truth other than wanting to stay out of his cell. A big price to pay in exchange for freedom.

Minerva spoke again before he could respond, “I once committed an act similar to you,” the surprise is evident on Zemo, “Vengeance against those who were responsible for the death of my loved ones. It’s why I was exiled,” a frown appears, her attention returning to the stars. “So I understand you, probably better than anyone here. Understand why you committed those acts to destroy the Avengers. I don’t fault you for what you did—if I did it would make me a hypocrite. You’re not the villain Ross and the Avengers made you out to be.”

“How so?” His voice is strained, “what have you lost?” He didn’t mean to come off as defensive, but the conversation was bringing up emotions Zemo didn’t want to face.

“As Goddess of War all I knew was bloodshed. How to prevent it and how to fight it. Battle strategy was my domain, and the High Council knew better than to question my judgment,” she releases an exhale, “but Mars, the God of War and my brother, was my ultimate rival. He hated how much our father doted on me and agreed with plans I coordinated. It made him feel inferior. He’d do anything to prove himself.” Her tone remains neutral despite the painful memory surfacing.

Zemo remained quiet, picturing the scene as Minerva relayed it. Though stoic the Baron could see the pain and sadness lurking behind her eyes. Managing it as best she could for the sake of her friends. Who knows how many years it’d been since she lost whoever it was close to her. But the hole would always remain.

“To put it short,” she started again, bidding a glance, “Our home was under attack and his rash decision to slow down the enemy led to the death of my family—my husband and children.” Sympathy arose in the Baron, understanding her anguish, “An intentional move on Mars’ part because he believed I wouldn’t be fit to remain on the High Council after stuffing such a loss, therefore he would take my place as Head Commander of our armies and my father’s second Command.”

“He wasn’t exiled?” The question left Zemo before he could stop it. Confused by how the God avoided persecution for his crime, Minvera was shunned. “Your family was targeted.”

Minerva’s smile was bitter, “because their deaths were a result of war, the High Council viewed it as collateral. They failed to see Mars’ responsibility, believing he didn’t intend to kill them. So, I took it upon myself to bring justice. Not only to Mars but also the High Council.” Her smile fell once more, “I made sure they would pay. And they did, but it was far from over after finishing the job. Those who survived didn’t hesitate to throw me out to the wolves once I was contained.”

Zemo nods his head, “where did you go afterward if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was imprisoned on Xandar for some time,” well they certainly had some things in common, “Once I escaped I became what your people would call a bounty hunter. Where it led me to meeting those clowns I now call my family,” she pauses before adding, “and escaping prison for a second time. Only it was to save the Galaxy.”

The laugh that escapes Zemo surprises him, “I guess it all worked out then.” Once more they lock eyes, twinkling against the stars shining down above.

“I suppose it did.”

Three Years Later

Zemo raced out the door the moment he awoke to rumbling that shook the foundation of his home. After three years he’d recognize the sound in an instant, only this time it was without warning.

An action that rarely occurred.

Throwing on his coat and house slippers, the clock read 2:30 am, flooding the Baron with worry. ‘What is she doing here at this hour?”

Usually when Minerva drops in she gives Zemo a heads up. A day or two’s notice, but recently he couldn’t get a hold of her and passed it off as the Guardians on a job. With the unexpected visit, so late at night, Zemo instantly knew something was wrong.

Hurrying out to the front lawn right as her ship landed, Zemo jogged to where the stairs extended. When they did, the doors revealed his Goddess, still wearing her suit, standing before him. Zemo noted the exhaustion painting her demeanor. Dark circles beneath her eyes, which appeared dimmer than usual, and scars indicating recently healed wounds.

His arms are around her the moment she’s within distance, her own around his neck, “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry I didn’t call,” the exhaustion was evident in her voice. Barely above a whisper causing Zemo to tighten his hold.

“It’s alright, darling. I’m just glad to see you are okay,” his hand runs along her hair, “wanna tell me what happened?” He hears her sniff, increasing his dread, “Close call?”

“Too many,” her voice cracks and there’s a pause. “We almost lost Rocket. We saved him thankfully, but then we nearly lost Peter. And I almost—,” she stops short, not wanting to relive her near death experience. “This was…it was too much for all of us, Helmut.” A kiss is pressed to her head, offering comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, mein schatz.” Zemo leads Minerva into the home, sitting her in the living room while he goes to put a kettle on the stove. Filling two cups of cherry blossom tea, Minerva’s favorite, he joins her in the living room.

After taking her first sip of the brew, Minerva removes the headpiece from her hair and makes herself comfortable before giving Zemo a play-by-play of the past three days. He stays quiet, listening intently but visibly reacts with each awful detail Minvera relays to him. From the unexpected attack from Adam Warlock, to the disgusting abuse Rocket endured at the hands of the High Evolutionary, to Quill nearly imploading in space had it not been for Adam’s change of heart.

Zemo’s knuckles turned white when Minerva spoke of what happened to her. Anger consumed him and he wished he had been there to protect her. Seeing his distress Minerva placed her hand on his, gently squeezing, “I’m okay, Helmut. I’m here now and we all made it out. There were many close calls, but we’re all alive and that’s what matters.”

Taking her hand, Zemo brought it up to brush his lips against her fingers, softly kissing her knuckles. “I don’t know what I would've done if I lost you, Minnie. I—-,” he stops himself to exhale, squeezing his eyes shut, “I would’ve found a way to fly across the galaxy to avenge you.”

“I know you would,” she murmurs, removing her hand but positioning herself in his lap. Arms snake around his neck, pulling him so they were inches apart. “I’d expect nothing less. Also I’d be a hypocrite considering I would do the same for you.” A playful smirk formed, “I was already plotting when Ross let you get captured by those bastards last year. Had it ended any other way, Ross would cease to exist.”

Zemo snickered, “I see we haven’t really changed completely despite our friends believing the opposite. Neither of us hesitating to return to old ways if it comes down to such circumstances.”

She smirks, “No, I don’t suppose we haven’t.”

“What a pair we are,” leaning in, his lips meet hers in a soft caress. Warmth seeping through his veins. That effortless high he believed he’d never have again after the loss of his family.

But he found it with a Goddess in the stars. Where love swept across the galaxy.

When they pull away after a moment, Zemo keeps his forehead against hers. Gold meeting brown. “I’m not sure I can let you go now, liebling. At least not for a while.”

“You never have to anymore,” her words have him startled, the man pulling away slightly to get a better look at her.

“What are you saying?”

Minerva’s gaze turns soft, though there’s slight nervousness, “After everything we all realized something. We found the family we were searching for, but some of us needed to find ourselves. Peter’s here on Earth to find his grandfather. Mantis is off on her own adventure. Drax and Nebula are on Knowhere to help raise the children we saved from the High Evolutionary. Rocket and Groot are leading a new era of the Guardians. And me,” she stops, emitting a gaze full of love that takes Zemo’s breath away. “I’d like to be here. With you, Helmut. If you’ll have me.”

If his heart could explode from the happiness Zemo was feeling it would. Tears were threatening to prick his eyes, the Baron willing himself to remain composed. “Oh, Schatz,” he croaked, cupping the side of her jaw. “I should be the one asking you that. Of course I’ll have you. I love you more than every star in the galaxy.” With that he kisses her, putting all his love and passion it causes her own eyes to water.

“I love you too,” she kisses him again. They remain on the couch, falling asleep eventually curled up in each other’s embrace. Their last thoughts filled with joy as they awaited the new adventure on the horizon.

An adventure just between them. A reinstated Goddess and a fully pardoned Baron opening the next chapter of their lives. Together.

[siena-sevenwits]

Goodness of yesterday:*

We had all been asked to attend the birthday party, which was themed around French Canadian history and the Order of Good Cheer, in clothing evocative of New France. I was going for a peasant habitant look, or at least a fantasy version of one with my limited costume choices. (Alas! I own a million costumes that are all made for a bunch of skinny high schoolers, and I am not that.) I cobbled together my red split front overdress, my gathered white chemise, and a thick petticoat beneath. About my waist I arranged a couple of coureur des bois sashes and a buckskin purse (which a real peasant woman probably would not have worn in the way I did, but at least they screamed "French Canadian.") Topped it off with a sort of cap made out of a toque and some lace, which I tucked my hair up into (probably the least convincing part of the ensemble, but I'm told it worked okay.)

I went into a shop to buy a present. My own car wasn't up to the road conditions, so I had borrowed my mom's van. It is the most massive thing you ever did see. I am entirely comfortable driving it but parking it in close quarters always has me in a flurry of second guesses. Anyway, the parking lot at the shop had been cleared of snow in the most insane way. A mountain of chunky snow the size of a small building blocked the end of several parking rows, so there was now way to drive the perimeter, and most importantly, no room to turn around in a honkin' big van. I slipped into the very last available parking space, only just managing to fit, right next to the mountain of snow. And I was terrifying I would not be able to back out. Yeah, I could back out the way I'd got in, but not turn around. (Add to this that of course the parking lot lines are all covered with snow, which leads to people just guessing and parking in a shambles way. Well, I've been in situations with that huge van which I did not want to relive. So I found myself praying to Jesus that when I came out of the shop, the car parked immediately across from me would be gone and no one would have taken its place, so I could just drive through the empty space and escape. And when I came out, He'd done it for me. I was so happy. Nothing miraculous by any means, but I felt loved.

And so I escaped.

The shop in question was Indigo. They had a single copy of 84 Charing Cross Road, which would be right up my friend's alley! They've never had it in stock before. Very gratifying.

Then on to the amazing birthday party. It was an absolute blast. The house was resplendent with Christmas. We had hearty French Canadian fare (including one of the best tourtieres I have ever tasted - beautifully flaky crust!) and ciders and homemade teas.

We sang lots of traditional songs in French (I was one of the only people there who did not speak French, but I kept up all right with the sheet music in front of me. It helped that I knew I couple of the tunes.) Sometimes the music was accompanied on harp or piano.

Everyone was also asked to bring a folk song to sing for the company. I asked them if they felt like hearing about kings or crime. One lone voice called, "Kings!" The rest of the room chorused, "Crime!" So I sang them "The Lincolnshire Poacher."

I was asked to call a ceilidh. There was not much room for longwise dancing in the living room, but they managed to dance The Bridge of Athlone like pros!

I did some praying in the car on the way home and became aware in a new way of some areas in my life that are messed up and that I really need to get serious about working on. It was not comfortable, but it didn't disturb my peace and get me down with shame, which often to me is a sign that it might be worth taking seriously as from God, rather than just a streak of discouragement or anxiety. And it's a grace, and a very Advent one, to have a chance to see these things more clearly.

I fell asleep reading about Amarantha and her "kidnapping."

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Good afternoon, my bookish bats. I hope you have a good book, delicious latte, and sweet snack within reach! No TBR is complete without a few young adult novels, and plenty were released in March! Here are a few YA releases to consider adding to your shelves.

🩷 March 5 🩷 ✨ What Monstrous Gods - Rosamund Hodge ✨ The Prisoner's Throne - Holly Black ✨ Defy the Storm - Tessa Gratton and Justina Ireland ✨ The Stricken - Morgan Shamy ✨ The Encanto's Daughter - Melissa de la Cruz ✨ Breathing Underwater - Abbey Nash ✨ One Last Breath - Ginny Myers Sain ✨ Bad Like Us - Gabriella Lepore ✨ Promchanted - Morgan Matson ✨ Song of Freedom, Song of Dreams - Shari Green ✨ The No-Girlfriend Rule - Christen Randall ✨ Ellie Haycock Is Totally Normal - Gretchen Schreiber ✨ An Unlikely Proposition - Rosalyn Eves ✨ A Different Kind of Brave - Lee Wind ✨ The Baker and the Bard - Fern Haught

🩷 March 12 🩷 ✨ The Hedgewitch of Foxhall - Anna Bright ✨ Six Truths and a Lie - Ream Shukairy ✨ Monster Crush - Erin Ellie Franey ✨ Infinity Kings - Adam Silvera ✨ The Other Lola - Ripley Jones ✨ Just Another Epic Love Poem - Parisa Akhbari ✨ Not Your Average Jo - Grace K. Shim ✨ Book, Beast, and Crow - Elizabeth Byrne ✨ Meet Me in the Fourth Dimension - Rita Feinstein ✨ Ariel Crashes a Train - Olivia A. Cole ✨ These Bodies Between Us - Sarah Van Name ✨ A Feather So Black - Lyra Selene

🩷 March 19 🩷 ✨ Where Sleeping Girls Lie - Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ✨ Under This Red Rock - Mindy McGinnis ✨ The Last Bloodcarver - Vanessa Le ✨ The Revenant Games - Margie Fuston ✨ In the Orbit of You - Ashley Schumacher ✨ Cancelled - Farrah Penn ✨ Rules for Rule Breaking - Talia Tucker ✨ The Veiled Kingdom - Holly Renee ✨ Taka - Ryan Jampole

🩷 March 26 🩷 ✨ The Poisons We Drink - Bethany Baptiste ✨ Dead Girls Walking - Sami Ellis ✨ Royal Scandal - Aimee Carter ✨ Icarus - K. Ancrum ✨ The Perfect Guy Doesn't Exist - Sophie Gonzales ✨ Chronically Dolores - Maya Van Wagenen ✨ Out of Left Field - Jonah Newman

[specificpollsaboutbooks]

(Unverified yet) submissions for couples from books (polyamory ships will get their own tournament too later) :

Other :

Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard)

F/F :

Rosethorn/Lark (Emelan)

Blue/Red (This Is How You Lose the Time War)

Dellaria “Delly” Wells/Winnifer "Winn" Cynallumwynsurai (The Ruthless Lady's Guide to Wizardry)

Kyoshi/Rangi (Chronicles of the Avatar)

Sarah Bishop/Emily Mather (All Souls trilogy)

Maud Blyth/Violet Debenham (A Restless Truth)

M/M :

Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish (The Raven Cycle)

Naolin/Brennan Sorrengail (The Empyrean series)

Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton (The Montague Siblings series)

Simon Snow/Bazilton "Baz" Grimm-Pitch (Simon Snow series)

Jesper Fahey/Wylan van Eck (Six of Crows duology)

Aristotle Mendoza/Dante Quintana (Aristotle and Dante books)

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (Ths Shadowhunters Chronicles)

Robin Blyth/Edwin Courcey (A Marvellous Light)

Jack Alston/Alan Ross (A Power Unbound)

F/M :

Part 1 -

Blue Sargent/Richard Campbell Gansey III (The Raven Cycle)

Sophie Hatter/Wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon (Howl's Moving Castle)

Abdullah/Flower-in-the-Night (Castle in the Air)

Lettie Hatter/Wizard Suliman a.k.a Benjamin Sullivan (Castle in the Air)

Lady Amalthea/Prince Lír (The Last Unicorn)

Schmendrick/Molly Grue (The Last Unicorn)

Christine Daaé/Vicomte Raoul de Chagny (The Phantom of the Opera)

Jonathan Harker/Mina Murray Harker (Dracula)

Linh Cinder/Prince Kai (The Lunar Chronicles)

Scarlet Benoit/Wolf a.k.a Ze'ev Kelsey (The Lunar Chronicles)

Winter Hayle-Blackburn/Jacin Clay (The Lunar Chronicles)

Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows duology)

Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbrair (The Folk of the Air series)

Puck Connolly/Sean Kendrick (The Scorpio Races)

Laia of Serra/Elias Veturius (An Ember in the Ashes series)

Evie/Lend (Paranormalcy)

Margaret Welty/Weston Winters (A Far Wilder Magic)

Emily Wilde/Wendell Bambleby (Emily Wilde books)

Lucivar Yaslana/Marian (The Black Jewels trilogy)

Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games)

Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)

Isaac Bell/Marian Morgan (Isaac Bell Books)

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase (Riordanverse)

William "Will" Herondale/Tessa Gray (The Infernal Devices)

Princess Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee a.k.a Ani or Isi/Prince Geric (Goose Girl)

Anne Elliot/Capt. Frederick Wentworth (Persuasion)

Finlay Donovan/Det. Nick Anthony (Finlay Donovan)

Francesca Stirling/Micheal Stirling (Bridgerton)

Matthew Clairmont/Diana Bishop (All Souls trilogy)

Penelope/Odysseus (The Odyssey)

Romeo Montague/Juliet Capulet (Romeo and Juliet)

Patricia Delfine/Laurence Armstead (All the Birds in the Sky)

Part 2 -

Nancy Drew/Ned Nickerson (Nancy Drew series)

Princess Buttercup/Westley (The Princess Bride)

Pepper/Blue (A Closed and Common Orbit)

Matthias Hevlar/Nina Zennik (Six of Crows)

Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley (Pride and Prejudice)

Lucy Carlyle/A.J. Lockwood (Lockwood & Co.)

Kell Maresh/Lila Bard (Shades of Magic)

Marisa Coulter/Lord Asriel Belacqua (His Dark Materials)

[thesunsethour]

Little Les Mis Things - 11/01/24

My ramblings (aka an in-depth analysis) on how amazing the current West End cast of Les Misérables are having seen the show yesterday (a particularly special version because of how many amazing covers and swings performed!) This is also the first time I’ve seen Les Mis in London with the new production changes (so much to talk about!)

Yesterday was my 6th time seeing Les Mis, and 4th time in London - let’s get into it!!

Jean Valjean - Played by the absolutely wonderful Killian Donnelly who is MY Valjean. This was the third time I’ve seen him play this role and no one has come close to him for me. The tenderness he brings to the role without losing any of Valjean’s rougher edges is sublime. His voice is as divine as ever yet at the same time has matured so much over the years since I first saw him as Valjean in 2017. The result is the most beautiful blend of roughness at the beginning that over the course of the show mellows as Valjean ages - but at the same time is always distinctly *Killian*. His rendition of Bring Him Home is the best version of all time. I would like to apologise to my aunt for this sacrilegious statement against the wonderful Colm Wilkinson but after yesterday I cannot deny it anymore. I always cried at the end of Les Mis, but yesterday was the first time I was sobbing from Bring Him Home onwards, and that is thanks to Killian Donnelly.

Javert - Played by Jordan Simon Pollard, who usually plays Claquesous but is first cover Javert. He was sensational! His voice filled every crevice of the theatre and his rendition of Javert’s Soliloquy was out of this world.

Fantine - Played by Ellie Ann Lowe, who usually plays a Factory Girl but was on as Fantine yesterday and smashed it right out of the park! Beautiful voice (especially at the end of I Dreamed a Dream) and an incredible actress to boot.

Cosette - Played by the lovely Lulu-Mae Pears. Her Cosette was a treat to see and her voice was stunning. Side note I LOVE Cosette’s new costumes for the London production.

Marius - Played by Ben Oatley, who usually plays Joly, and was making his debut as Marius yesterday! He is second cover Marius and this is his first ever West End show having graduated last year and it’s almost hard to believe when you see how talented he is - like he’d been doing the role for years! If you want to imagine this Marius just picture Mr Bingley from Pride and Prejudice 1995 now give him bucketloads of trauma. And then BOOM! A Ben Oatley Marius.

Éponine - Played by Rosy Church, an ensemble actress who is also making her West End debut with this current cast of Les Mis! She was simply outstanding, with a voice as clear as a bell and a higher register that really surprised me for a bit but I loved. Her ‘On My Own’ sent goosebumps down my arms - simply brilliant.

Enjolras - Played by Djavan van de Fliert who made the entire audience fall in love. The most charismatic Enjorlas I have ever had the pleasure of seeing, he filled the stage when energy whenever he was on it. During his entrance for One Day More he fell down on stage but didn’t miss a single beat and got an absolutely rapturous round of applause at the end.

Little bits and bobs I loved from this production:

* They’ve changed the tops that the chain gang wear from brown to red - it initially appeared quite jarring to me but then really grew as the show went on. It makes Valjean stand out more (especially important for people like me, who were watching from the Grand Circle all the way up in the Gods)

* Killian went for the higher note for “took my FLIGHT” which I always simply adore when he does that

* The way Killian said “the whirlpool of my SIN”… I cannot explain in words how many emotions he can pack into one word

* An addition from the last time I saw the show in London was that Valjean goes to help a little girl when going from town to town at the beginning and gets shunned and attacked for it, and this adds an extra weight to when he takes the coin off the little boy later on

* Valjean gets beaten up a LOT more than he used to… it works so well on stage but also leave my father alone…

* The actor playing the bishop in this production (Adam Pearce) was so brilliant - he played the role with an underlying tinge of anger which was a unique choice I’d not seen much of before. He seemed to be angry not AT Valjean but at his circumstances, which really worked well

* One of the factory workers called Fantine a bitch with such vitriol that the dozens of teenagers sitting in front of me on a school tour gasped out loud

* I loved Killian’s acting during the scene when Fantine was fired, she was begging him to look at her letter and Valjean just waved her away - it was made more obvious than in other versions and really helped to heighten his guilt later on when he finds her in the street. Also some excellent background acting with Valjean instructing the workers in the back

* When the man attacked Fantine after Lovely Ladies it was the most violent choreography of it I’ve seen so far. Then Fantine punched AND spat at him

* When Valjean finds Fantine it takes him a good couple minutes to admit his own guilt but when he did it was overwhelming to him

* Killian also kept putting his hand on Fantine’s cheek and then over his own heart…. killed me actually

* Ellie’s “you let your foreman SEND ME AWAY” was breathtaking

* I LOOOOOVED Valjean and Javert’s interactions when Valjean is Mayor because like for example after lifting the cart obviously Valjean had to take off his coat and Javert was holding it and it was after some very tense seconds where Javert was suspicious Valjean just motioned for Javert to return his coat bahahaha. So subtle but so brilliant

* Javert was getting worked up and said “but MONSIEUR LE MAYOR-“ and Valjean just held up a single hand to silence him and it was so perfectly done - I love their shifting power dynamics so much

* And during the Confrontation Valjean stole Javert’s chain and kept slowly wrapping it around his hand before delivering the most satisfying punch

* The little actress who played young Éponine was so fantastic, she kept mirroring Madam T’s behaviour

* I love how the new production emphasises Valjean’s nose boops to Cosette. They are actually so important

* But then… a huge travesty… they changed the line from “Yes Cosette, yes it’s true. I’ll be father and mother to you” to something along the lines of “Yes Cosette, yes it’s true, there’ll be a castle just for you”…. really don’t like this change. I always adored the “father and mother” lyric :(

* And I can’t even keep track of the amount of lyrics changed in Master of the House…

* Once again one of my favourite sections in the musical is The Thénardier Waltz because I adore Valjean’s exasperation and passive aggressive reaction to their antics

* Also when they were talking about his Cosette was often ill, Madam T said to Cosette “play dead!” Excellent new addition

* When Valjean went to pick Cosette up to spin her around Killian said ‘h-UP’ which is such an Irish thing and made me so happy like I really think Killian’s acting with young Cosette and even later with Marius in the sewers has so much more depth since Killian himself has had children 🥺

* Now we’re in Paris (side note they’ve got rid of the location and years projections which I miss…)

* They still have the “everyone’s equal when they’re dead” line for Gavroche which I never liked as much :(

* Although they did let Gavroche carry around a little baton the whole time to mock Javert which I loved

* They made Éponines “I know a lot of things I do” quite overtly sexual which is a change from other versions I’ve seen and I wasn’t mad on it

* I love how the Grantaire and Gavroche has been developed over the years it’s so endearing

* I really loved all the Marius and Grantaire interactions - and really Grantaire with the whole ensemble, such wonderful friendships

* When Enjolras took Grantaire’s bottle off him he immediately took out another one

* Marius sang the first few lines of ‘A Heart Full of Love’ from the top of the fence which I’d never seen before and loved

* Also I am CONVINCED Éponine said “shit!” when she noticed Valjean come out the door

* And later when Éponine delivered the note from Cosette to Marius via Valjean he was so soft towards Éponine and even softer when he realised she was a girl. He clasped her hands and told her to stay away from the barricade

* Death’s kiss!!!!!!! Éponine kissed Marius!!! And I sobbed

* When Éponine was dying one of the Barricade Boys brought Javert out and made him look at her body but Javert kept looking away… oh god quick where is that Éponine and Javert parallel post

* Éponine’s anger at the end of ‘On My Own’ was so palpable and especially her “a world that’s full of happiness that I will never KNOW” was so painful

* Drink with Me while very sad was also very funny because everyone was having a good time and then it’s like “oh good Grantaire is joining in- OH NO HE IS NOT OKAY”

* Enjolras really seemed have a lot of respect for Grantaire in this production which made it all the more painful when Grantaire shook his arm off when Enjolras tried to comfort him

* Grantaire’s “IS YOUR LIFE JUST ONE MORE LIE” really played into his NEED to believe in something

* BRING HIM HOME WAS THE MOST SPECTACULAR PERFORMANCE I HAVE EVER SEEN. I sobbed throughout. Killian is so talented. Because his voice is so soft naturally and the beginning of the song is extra soft it means the gut punch of “the summers DIEEEE ONE BY ONE” all the more powerful

* Grantaire and Enjolras hugged over what they thought was Marius’ dead body… god…

* Valjean looked so devastated that he couldn’t save all the other boys at the barricade oh god it killed me

* Once again Grantaire was the last to die and shouted “YOU BASTARDS”

* One of my FAVOURITE additions to the new Les Mis staging (which Killian does particularly well) is Valjean saying “good boy good boy… good boy” to Marius as he heaved him up. I burst into tears again

* Turning was soooo good because they have a little girl sing the lyric “who will wake them?” and then she stares at Marius as he comes out for Empty Chairs

* I hated the lyric change in Beggars at the Feast from “that one’s a queer but what can you do” to something like “that one’s a queer but guess he’ll do”… like why. why.

* When Valjean was telling Marius about his life he kept rubbing and clutching his wrist which made me think of Fantine’s line about chains binding him… oh god

* As always Valjean’s death was so beautiful and painful… the part of the show that always gets to me the most

* THE BISHOP HUGGED VALJEAN WHEN HE DIED TO WELCOME HIM TO HEAVEN

* and then I died too. I love this musical so much

[feetoffire]

individual showjumping final! this course was gorgeous in all respects (especially love the wall that looks like the notre dame rose windows) (and the curled-up lizard topiary thing. love that guy) and also tricky as all hell. only three riders went double clear (bc the oxers are massive and the striding is so so technical).

Canada: Mario Deslauriers on Emerson. i love watching the jumpers move - they’re so forward. two sets of reins. nicely in time, but two rails down. 

Germany: Phillipp Weishaupt on Zineday. drop noseband. some gape between fences. one second over, one rail down. 

Argentina: Jose Maria (jr) Larocca on Finn Lente. started rough with a knocked rail, and the combinations really got them. one second over, five rails down. 

UK: Ben Maher on Dallas Vegas Batilly. mare! nose net. froth. i love watching this mare; she’s got so much scope and so much try. in time, one rail. Just caught the oxer in the double.  

USA: Laura Kraut on Baloutinue. came in nice and quiet, and Baloutinue seems fairly settled. i think she’s my favorite rider in the field. fighting a little in the turns. he tries so hard to keeps his legs out of the way over the last fence but it doesn’t quite work. in time, one rail. 

Austria: Max Kuehner on Elektric Blue P. drop noseband, froth. gape. also knocks the last fence - i think the riders are going to have to take that extra second to come at it perfectly straight. one rail, in time. 

France: Simon Delestre on I Amelusina R 51. rough start, knocks the first fence. gape. coming in close to the red flag on most of these fences. god that’s so much gape. in time, two rails. 

Germany: Christian Kukuk on Checker 47. i do love watching the jumpers move but so many of them are hyperflexed before the round starts and that i could do without. lots of gape -  there are so many stride adjustments in this course. rattles a rail on the double combination, but it stays. double clear!

Belgium: Gregory Wathelet on Bond Jamesbond de Hay. still love this name. hackamore! couldn’t quite clear the water. very fast round. two rails. 

Netherlands: Maikel van der Vlueten on Beauville Z. little awkward over the double combination - think it was a long spot. making full use of the space. double clear. 

UAE: Omar Abdul Aziz al Marzooqi on Enjoy de la Mure. little bit of froth. looked like a touch of sass in one of the lead changes (we've all ridden that). clever striding. in time, two rails. lots of pets for Enjoy as they leave. 

Japan: Takashi Hasse Shibayama on Karamell M&M. rolls the first rail out of its cups, knocks fence two and both in the double combo. elects (smartly) to retire. 

Saudi Arabia: Ramzy al Duhami on Untouchable 32. mare! gape - i can see her tongue in the close-ups. this mare is scopey as all hell - only knocks the oxer in the first double combination. in time, one rail. 

Mexico: Andres Azcarraga on Contrendros 2. having trouble over the oxers. takes the turn to the water fast and just slides to a stop; Azcarraga comes off. 

Brazil: Rodrigo Pessoa on Major Tom. Major Tom has braids in. starts a little under speed/behind the leg. knocks two rails, elects to retire.

USA: Karl Cook on Caracole de la Roque. mare! one of the hackamore girlies (and her noseband is fuzzy!). still don’t like her topline. they’re fighting about speed - Caracole has Opinions. the turn to the card suite jumps is awkward and the combination doesn’t go well. in time, two rails. 

Belgium: Gilles Tomas on Ermitage Kalone. nose net. nice quiet feeling round. in time, two rails down. 

Norway: Victoria Gulliksen on Mistral van de Vogelzang. having a Moment before the round starts. double combination literally trips them up - thought they were both going to fall trying to get over the oxer in the double combination. half a second over, two rails down. 

Brazil: Stephan de Frietas Barcha on Primavera. mare! two sets of reins. fast around the turn to the water, some speed discussions in the ensuing fences. scrapes her way through the triple combination and the card suite fences, but she makes it! really using that fifth leg. if you click with a mare, she will do anything for you. in time, one rail. 

UK: Scott Brash on Jefferson. his stripe and snip are so cool. drop noseband. knocks the oxer in the double combination. in time, one rail down. 

Saudi Arabia: Abdulrahman Alrajhi on Ventago. red ribbon. lots of stride adjustments. tt’s a bit of a slog for them today and you can feel it. uses all of his space to the card suite jumps. one second over, one rail down. 

Netherlands: Kim Emmen on Imagine. two sets of reins. first rail comes down. he’s tired - this is his fourth round this week. in time, three rails down. 

Italy: Emanuele Camilli on Odense Odeveld. hackamore? i think? shadow roll. first rail down. handles the double combination nicely. in time, three rails. 

Sweden: Henrik von Eckermann on King Edward. nose net. makes it through the water and following line by sheer force of will only for King Edward to make a wrong turn. little bit of discussion about it, then Eckermann comes off and takes the bridle with him. insists on leading King Edward back himself (we love to see it). Edward is still worked up - Eckermann is using the elbow in the neck trick to make space. yeah been there (regularly).

Switzerland: Steve Guerdat on Dynamix de Belheme. mare! gape. she is bound and determined to make this course her bitch. good for her! double clear. 

Switzerland: Martin Fuchs on Leone Jei. drop noseband. looked like Fuchs almost came off in the double combination and he lost a stirrup. almost swings left (same as King Edward) but recovers. in time, one rail down. out of the medals, but that was some impressive riding. 

Netherlands: Harrie Smolders on Uricas V/D Kattenvennen. froth. some gape. he’s trying but he’s tired. two time penalties, one rail. 

Ireland: Daniel Coyle on Legacy. mare! love her. she’s ready to get it done. froth. stretching down in the turn to the card suite fences. i think the striding gets fucked up, they knock the next four fences (card suite combination and the two after it). Coyle elects to retire. 

Ireland: Shane Sweetnam on James Kann Cruz. converter reins. knocks the oxer in the double combination, runs into trouble in the triple. in time, three rails down. 

France: Julien Epaillard on Dubai du Cedre. mare! our other hackamore girlie 🎉 her blaze is fantastic. arguing about speed.sShe's scopey as hell and putting everything in. not quite steady enough to the second card suite fence. in time, one rail.

[inspiredwriter]

*En la habitación*

Stefany :*se piena la peluca* date prisa Anastasia, Leo y Mikey vendrán en cualquier momento😃😁

Anastasia : ya voy amiga casi termino de plancharme mi peluca😀😅👩‍🦰*se plancha la peluca* es increíble el día de los inocentes que haremos una broma a los chicos 😈🤭💕💞💗

Stefany : Por supuesto te lo conté Hace unos días para la broma perfecta 😁😉✨*se acomoda la peluca* ya tenemos bien colocado las pelucas de colores 😃🙂👩‍🦰cuando salgamos y diremos que nos pintamos el cabello de nuestros colores favoritos y se van a volver locos😈😆

Anastasia :*deja la plancha en la mesa*jajaja si, Supongo que te cantas las brujas 😏😃(pensamientos💭) será igual que colocamos un balde con brillantina arriba de la puerta en la habitación de Raph 😁😆🚪🪣✨*escucha un ruido* Oh escucho que alguien viene? 😲😀🔊

Stefany : debe ser los chicos bien hay Qué actuar como platicamos😄😉✨

Leonardo and Miguel Angel :*camina por el pasillo*

Leonardo :* frunce el ceño*Mikey sé que hoy es el día de docentes😒🤔 Pero no quiero que te ocurras hacer una broma conmigo mientras estaré en mi habitación con Stefany viendo la película 😡😤🚪🖥️💖💓💕

Miguel Angel :*pone sus brazos atrás de su cabeza* relájate Leo no te haré bromas para que no arruinar su privacidad de romance con tu gatita 😏😁❣️💕💖 Yo solo quiero estar con mi princesita y haremos bromas juntos🥰😄💘💝💞 pintaremos el caparazón de Donnie con pintura que brilla en la oscuridad mientras duerme 😈🤫🖌️

Leonardo : está bien espero que te diviertas haciendo bromas juntos ☺️🙂💖💕❣️*toca la puerta* Chicas, sabemos que están aquí pueden salir? 😀😊

Stefany and Anastasia :*sale de la habitación* hola chicos🥰😘👋💕💖❣️¿les fascina nuestro nuevo look nos pintamos el cabello de nuestros colores favoritos? 😏😁👩‍🦰🩷🧡💞💝❣️💕

@inspiredwriter

Leonardo and Michelangelo: Eeeh, cool idea, girls...😅😁

Leonardo: Wow, Stefany, I always knew how much you loved the color pink, but I couldn't imagine that enough to dye your hair...😀😅💘💕 (Thoughts💭) God, how could Stefany even come up with such an idea?!😧😱 Probably, when she was talking with friends, Candy suggested that she do this🤔 But I liked my kitty's natural hair color better...😥

Michelangelo: Haha, you look great, my princess...😅😁✨💖💞 (Thoughts💭) Why?!!😭 I liked it better when my lovely Anastasia's hair was golden and fluffy, but now it's red and limp!!😫😩👩‍🦰 Come on, Mikey, control yourself, you should not upset Anastasia, you should love her in any way😠😤💓💞

Stefany and Anastasia: Hihihi, boys, you are so funny🤭😄💗💘💞 *Take off their wigs* Ta-da!😄😆 It was april prank!!😃😘🎉💝❣️💓💕

Leonardo: *Hugs Stefany's waist* Ooh, Stefany, you managed to fool me, I'm so proud of you because ninjas are very inventive😯😏💗🩷💓💞

Michelangelo: *Grabs Anastasia in his arms and kisses her on the cheek* Mua~😚💖💘💕 mmua~💓❣️💞 Haha, that was really funny and unexpected, girls😃😉✨ *Kisses Anastasia on the lips* Mmmuah~😚💗💖❣️💕 *Sniffs Anastasia's yarn of hair* Mmm, aah~🥰😍💘💗💓💕 (Thoughts💭) Glory to heavenly pizza that the hair of my adorable little flower was not damaged!!😆😌💨💓💖💝💕

Stefany: *Hugs Leo's waist* But we are very pleased, boys, that you didn't turn away and still continued to love us even when we changed our hair color🤗🥰🩷🧡👩‍🦰💘💝💞 *Whispers to Leo in his ear* Perhaps I will reward you for your kindness heart while watching the movie , my sweetie turtle~🤫😈🖥💖💘❣️💕

Michelangelo: Haha, my hunny cake, do you want to make prank of Donnie while he's sleeping in his room?😄🤫💤🩷💗💕 *Caresses Anastasia's booty and whispers in her ear* And then we'll have a little fun in my room~😏😈❣️💓💝💞

Anastasia: *Blushes* Haha, with pleasure, my orange cheeks😳😍💖💘💗💕 *Caresses Mikey's cheeks* Huh, Mikey, it seems to me that something is showing on your face...😧🤨 Oh, my love, as I understand it, someone before painted a mustache on your face with invisible paint, but now it has appeared🤔🥸🖌

Michelangelo: Really?🤨 Anastasia, are you talking serious?..😧😲

Stefany: *Takes out a pocket mirror and hands it to Mikey* She's telling the truth, Mikey, just look at your reflection😧😕

Michelangelo: Hmm?🤨😟 *Covers his face with hand* Ooow, I look stupid!😖😩

@swagreecrow

[seventeen02]

favorite movies !

say you love me

a moment of romance

in blow

scarface

life is beautiful

death in venice

purple noon

mr and mrs smith

hackers

leon

girl interrupted

in the mood for love

days being wild

fallen angel

the beautiful person

the apartment

fuyajo

the black swan

the godfather 2

my own private idaho

two lovers under one roof

the scent of green papaya

vertical ray of the sun

stealing beauty

teorema

call me by your name

bonnie and clyde

fight club

kill bill

city of the rising sun

wheels of ashes

fruit of paradise

floating clouds

ghosts

inception

x movie

ley lines

the brown bunny

american psycho

platonic sex

last night in soho

emma

pride and prejudice

red lights

the dreamers

the wind rises

closer

six in paris

mermaids

garden state

on the occasion of remembering the turning gate

the doom generation

the girl on the motorcycle

open house

the place without limits

ratatouille

twin peaks

before sunrise

malèna

possession

all about lily chou chou

bride for rip van winkle

the lover

amelie

rebels of the neon god

as tears go by

a moment to remember

the hot spot

less than zero

edward scissorhands

eyes wide shut

un homme et une femme

the story of adele h

the last mistress

billboard dad

metropolitan

the pillow book

singles

la la land

mirrored mind

fatal frame

and then we danced

dear ex

tune in for love

one fine spring day

reality bites

running on empty

millennium mambo

lost and found

who's the woman, who's the man

mulholland drive

Jess + Moss

swallowtail butterfly

dorian gray

durian durian

hana & alice

40 days and 40 nights

l'amour braque

picnic

to each is own

guilty of romance

vagabond

city of madness

three times

mary is happy mary is happy

comet

sleepless town

like someone in love

hausu

house

46 okunen no koi

2046

l'enfer

cloud atlas

old boy

mystery train

the odd one dies

kedi

l'amour l'apres-midi

fire on the black hand side

le bonheur

fantastic planet

mirror

belladonna of sadness

daisies

lost highway

sweet movie

pearl

heathers

moulin rouge

suspiria

the rich man's wife

requiem for a dream

the others

return of the living dead

dracula

interview with the vampire

wir kinder vom bahnof zoo

le mepris

chi-n-pi-ra

chungking express

ashes and snow

shuttering island

the grand budapest hotel

the young girls of rochefort

the florida project

the edge of love

irreversible

crash

gone girl

bullet ballet

of love and shadows

minari

galaxy express 999

audition

lan yu

silsila

belle de jour

taal

dead or alive

videodrama

lost in translation

washington square

soulmate

summer lovers

barbarella

snake of june

a woman under the influence

mysterious skin

red eye

happy together

the walk

brick

l.a. confidental

love & pop

linda linda linda

swing girls

nana

the lover

hirugao

helter sketler

suzhou river

kaili blues

kamikaze girls

valerie and her week of wonders

comrades, almost a love story

naked lunch

endless love

whiplash

taxi driver

vivre sa vie

la collectionneuse

dog day afternoon

night in paradise

my mister

my name

better days

himizu

first love, letter on the breeze

split of the spirit

one million yen girl

juncchi mori

la belle

ITSAY

mermaid legend

blue spring

badlands

marie antoinette

aftersun

brokeback mountain

portrait of lady on fire

nostos: the return

shiki-jitsu

farewell my concubine

constantine

never let me go

bones and all

paris is burning

trouble everyday

memories of matsuko

pierrot le feu

taipei story

blue velvet

a woman is a woman

buffalo 66

the love witch

valley of dolls

the rocky horror picture show