#every expectation i had were exceeded by a mile

[natsukazesan]

Took me 41 days to watch all 1071 episodes of One Piece. Next are the movies. Those are for another day tho.

[gleefullypolin]

Can we just take a second before Part 2 comes out...

I just want to take a minute and thank Luke and Nicola. We have said more than once since part 1 came out that we as a fandom have won. And we have. I know we have had ups and downs whining about brothels and how the characters behaved or lied or acted. But at the end of the day, Polin has had some of the most book accuracy and stories coming directly from the book than the first 2 seasons. And that is not by accident.

Luke and Nic both read the book early on coming onto Bridgerton. They listened to the fans. They paid attention to the story and the parts of the book that meant something to the characters. The beats that were necessary even when the show was different than the book.

They fought for things that they thought were needed, ie: Mister Bridgerton. Making sure the carriage scene was perfect, the mirror scene. Luke and Nic knew what beats were going to be crucial to the fans. Having actors play the roles of characters that are so beloved and who understood their fandom so well is why we won so much of this season, it's why so many lines made it into the show. It's why even when the story diverged from the book, pieces of it still shined through.

This came out in the press tour, it showed in their gratitude. And THAT is why the season is doing well. I've seen comments saying that it's because S1 and S2 did well and that's the only reason S3 is doing so good. Poppycock, yes the Bridgerton name helps it to do well, but they are doing more than well, they are exceeding expectation BECAUSE of what they have done. They are not surviving on name alone. They put in the work, the went the extra mile and they became Polin. For US! You can feel that in all their interviews, in the work they put on the screen and I appreciate that. And THAT is why they are succeeding.

You can hate the ship, I don't honestly give a fuck, but give the actors the credit they deserve. They worked hard for Colin and Penelope because they loved these characters from Season 1 and they cultivated it and they knew what they needed to do for this season. Not all ships get that love and attention and even if you didn't love EVERY piece of what you got on screen, you should appreciate for sure the work they did and how they grew.

[storyofmychoices]

Tides of Change

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist] 

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (F!OC)

Book: Open Heart (post series; current time)

Word Count: ~1,000

Rating/Warnings: general (emotional hurt/comfort); wildfires

A/N: Bryce is from Maui (canon) so every time I turn the news and see the devastation the wildfires are causing, I can't help but think about how much this would affect him. I do HC that he lives in south Maui so his hometown is safe but he still would have had friends who lost everything.

Synopsis: With the news of the spreading wildfires on the picturesque island he grew up on, Bryce knows he can't sit by and do nothing.

He sat on the edge of the couch, his gaze fixed on the television screen, unable to look away. The beautiful island paradise he once called home was now overwhelmed by an unyielding sea of flames that devoured everything in its path of destruction.

Just as the ocean waves had once painted the shores with their vibrant waves, this fiery tide painted a grim portrait of devastation, erasing every stroke of beauty that had defined the old city of Lahaina.

His normally composed posture gave way to a tense stillness as the news shook him to his core. His fingers gripped the edge of the cushions. His brows furrowed, a crease etched between them as the world he knew was reduced to ash. His gaze flickered to his phone beside him. He knew what he should do, but they could have called too. He shook his head, his focus back on the news report. It seemed the devastation was isolated to that area for now. His hometown of Makena was located about 40 miles south of Lahaina, but he had friends near Lahaina. He reached for his phone, sending out a series of texts, and with a reluctant sigh, he dialed his parents' number. There was still a lot of work that needed to be done between them, but they had made some peace when he married Olivia, and now with their first grandchild on the way. 

Olivia moved closer, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her gentle touch anchored him with her despite the storm of emotions ravaging him.

As hours and days passed, Bryce's eyes remained fixed on the unfolding disaster. Like the turbulent ocean, the blaze continued to surge with fierce energy, consuming everything in its path. He watched from the safety of his home in Boston, on the screen of his phone during breaks between his demanding shifts at the hospital, and even through the conversations with friends back in Maui who reached out as possible. The fire's relentless advance was a stark reminder of nature's unpredictable wrath. His fist closed tightly around his phone. He couldn't sit here and listen anymore. He had to do something. 

Determined to help however he could, Bryce sprang into action. Rallying his friends and colleagues at the hospital, he orchestrated a food and supply drive to aid those whose lives had been turned upside down by the ravaging fire. Amid their demanding shifts, they carved out time to plan and promote the event. He wanted to send help as soon as possible, even if it meant starting small now and building towards something greater later. 

At the hospital's main entrance, Bryce set out a few humble boxes, hoping they might be filled throughout the weekend. Yet, the outpouring of generosity he received exceeded all expectations. By noon on Saturday, the boxes were already overflowing, and another row had been added. As evening fell, the sheer volume of donations forced them to be relocated as they had begun to block the entrance. By the end of the day on Sunday, there were enough boxes to completely fill a moving truck. 

The back of the truck teemed with non-perishable foods, clothing, bedding, daily essentials, baby food and supplies, letters of support, and a trove of other items. Not only did he manage to secure tangible goods, but many of Bryce's friends in Boston had also donated money to local charities on Maui with which he was familiar. 

As he stood in awe, loading the final box onto the truck, Bryce found himself humbled by the magnitude of support he had received. His eyes welled with tears at the outpouring of love. He could never have anticipated that his quick last-minute initiative to help could manage to have such a profound impact. This was a testament to the unwavering depths of human compassion that reflected the resilient spirit of the island he loved. 

Olivia slipped her hand into his, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You never cease to amaze me." The thumb of her free hand caressed softly across his cheeks, collecting the tears that fell. "You did all of this. This is going to help so many people, Bryce."

Squeezing her hand for support, Bryce slid the door of the truck down and latched it in place. He tapped the side of the truck, giving an all-good gesture to the driver who would deliver it for shipping. 

Bryce rested his head on Olivia as the truck pulled away. 

"Let's go home," she suggested, knowing he needed rest. He hadn't slept well in days. His every moment had been consumed with the drive.

There were no words to reply; instead, he just nodded and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. His fingers rested on her swollen stomach. So many people lost their homes, and the death toll continued to rise every day. He couldn't imagine what he would have done if they had been there, if the stress had caused her to lose the baby, or worse yet if they had been among the victims.

The tears he had been holding onto for days, and the pain of witnessing the destruction of the island he loved, all came crashing down on him. His knees buckled, but she was there to catch him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I've got you," she whispered. Her eyes misted over, knowing she couldn't take away his pain; she could only let him know he didn't have to bear it alone. She wished there was more she could do, but she knew this was what he needed most, a shoulder to cry on, and the comforting embrace of the person who loved him most of all.

His sobs echoed against the concrete walls of the parking garage. The life he had left behind suddenly felt close again, its memories and emotions raw and tangible.

Through it all, Olivia's unwavering presence offered a glimmer of solace, a reminder that just as the island would find the strength to rebuild, they too would embrace the promise of the new life that awaited them in just a few short months.

Thank you so much for reading. The wildfires that have been raging all spring and summer so far have been absolutely devastating. The destruction of so much land, homes, towns, and the loss of life is unbearable. I am a survivor of a house fire, so I do know the pain of losing everything, but I had friends and neighbors who helped us through it, when whole towns are destroyed, and such historic places, it's just heart breaking.

I don't like writing angst, but it felt unfair to continue my fluffy Brylivia series, when such an important part of his life is being devastated.

There might be a part two to this story, because I do want to write a part with Keiki, and I also know this still isn't enough for Bryce. He will always want to do more. His heart is so big and his compassion for his island is not something he could ever really leave behind. This will definitely change him.

This does take place in real time. So it is set in August 2023. Olivia is just over 6 months pregnant with Malia who is born this November.

Thank you again for reading. If you can support Hawaii during this time, that would be amazing. But if not, even sharing posts that have information about charities is helpful. This post has some information about charities.

[theesirenteller]

Reaper's Crow. 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊☞

Chapter one

Chapter two

"Wait! Wait! Please!" The man begged with tears leaking down his face as he fearfully held his hands up. "You don't have to do this. I can give you money. Lots of money and you can walk away from all this."

"And why would I want to do that?" The Reaper questioned. His tone was monotonous and dull as he adjusted his leather gloves to stretch further across his thick fingers,"Unfortunately for you, I like my job." The Reaper's venomous words sent one last shock of fear through his blood covered victim. His monstrous large hands clasped around the man's head with a bone-breaking squeeze. With a violent yank the man's head dislocated from his shoulders. Every bone and muscle in his neck snapped and cracked loudly, The beige skin turned a deep shade of plum and green as it was forcefully stretched and broken apart. 

The metallic odor of blood filled the air as the hot liquid messily splattered over The Reaper and painted his boots.Grueling screams could be heard from afar as he dropped the head onto the floor. Pulling two daggers from the back of his faded black blood-covered jeans, He made his way down the murky hall that smelt of sewer water and shit. He'd been edging his way towards the gated elevator door when a rusty metal rod was plunged into his right shoulder from behind. Causing him to let out a roar and hiss. Before he could react further, harsh blows to the side of his shoulder and face were shot with fists. Those barely hurt compared to the rod sticking out of the side of his shoulder. The burly man turned himself around swiftly and upper cutted his attacker. Who was revealed to be a scrawny man with a gash across his face and pink-fleshed wounds. The Reaper's anger overrode his pain and using an iron fist he punched directly into the man's mouth. 

Over and over again his busted knuckle smashed into the man's mouth. Loud crunches of broken teeth, gurgles of the man choking on his own blood sounded off through the narrow hallway.The victim's jaw dislocated and detached as The Reaper shoved his fist into the mouth. Ravenously, he busted through the flesh cavity and yanked the spinal cord in half. Blood splattering across The Reaper's face and hair. His once golden hair is now crimson red. 

A taller but skinnier male with a bloody hatchet had come out of one of the rooms. A cigar laid between his yellow teeth."Well got dang partner, that worthless sac'a horse shit done gotcha good, boy," The Mississippi hillbilly chuckled."I just got choppin a sorry son of a bitch, myself. Fucker shitted all over my shoes…"

As his partner for this job kept yapping away, The Reaper clenched his jaw whilst wrapping his hand around the rode. WIthout waiting another minute he had yanked it out from his shoulder. A sharp grunt escaped his lips as he straightened up with a shaky breath.

"You cold skinned mother fucker! Woo!" the hillbilly holler and cheers loudly.

Anger replaced the pain the reaper felt, "Let's just finish this shit." He grunted as he held the blood rod in one hand and his dagger in the other. The game was not yet finished and the 'No survivors' bonus sounded great right about now. The Reaper never left any surviving victims and even though the higher ups didn't care either which way. The Reaper always exceeded their expectations. He'd made more money with this job than he ever dreamed of in his past life.

Jax had killed so many men in his time that he felt like a savage. He'd lost, he'd taken, and yet he never gained. Always taking care of his club. They were all he had and went above his children. Went above his family and that was his greatest mistake. What he lost morally and emotionally, he now gained financially. It didn't bring him the money. But it made moving around much easier.

Meanwhile; three hours away Scout had awoken from her slumber in their new residence. WIthin the coastal town of WIlderbridge, Reaper had acquired a home just a mile outside of town. The two story barn-style home was run down. Seated on an acre of land within the high tree forest. Besides the running water and active electricity, the home was desolate and dreary.Scout didn't mind, it was a new place to explore away from her deceased master. Reaper had only been in the home long enough to drop her in it and leave household supplies he'd acquired from a passing shop before he left. Which had been at least two days ago and Scout slept through it all. Now feeling rested, her sock covered feet hit the dusty, creaky floorboards as she arose from the queen sized bed.With her back arched like a cat she stretched. The heavy rain kissing the forest dirt and tapping against the house created a tranquil ambiance within the house.

The old floor creaked underneath her feet as she made her way down the hall and into the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of her bruised face in the mirror caused her to sigh. The swelling had gone down but the bruising had turned a darker shade of purple with hues of yellow and green. A gastly sight that she couldn't bare to look at for too long.without wanting burst into tears.After freshening up with a long hot shower, wrapping her hair in a stretched out henley tee, and getting dressed in sweats and reaper's tee shirt; Scout made her way downstairs. The first floor consisted of a small, almost modest bedroom sized, living room. A large kitchen and a door that led to the back porch. Her baby blue sneakers got scuffled with dust and dirt as she explored the closets. The closet by the front door had a stack of brooms and mops covered in mainly cobwebs and dirt."This will do for now", Scout sighed as she grasped the broom and mop. The Reaper had brought a small bottle of liquid soap from the dollar store on the way home so that was what she used with hot water to clean the place. She mopped, swept, and scrubbed away the majority of the dust and dirt.

After opening up the kitchen windows along with the upstairs ones; Scout retrieved a single hundred dollar bill from the stack of money that Reaper had given her. Stuffing it underneath her bosom she then proceeded to put on a hoodie to compact the brisk weather. A wanderlust blazed within her to go explore. She'd left the home and walked aimlessly through the woods. Mother nature was so enchanting. The hobbit-sized woman looked with awe at the thick trunks of the aged trees as she inhaled their decaying woodsy scent. The damp musty odor of wet mud didn't faze her one bit as she skipped along. The rain kissing at her face caused a child-like giggle to escape her lips. Gleefully she began to run. Run through the forest as fast as a deer frolicking.This was freedom. Becoming friends with the trees and one with the earth. Mother nature embraced the motherless child and filled her. Embraced Scout with gentle arms and listening ears. Filled her with peace, serenity, and most of all enlightenment. In this overwhelming moment Scout couldn't be more grateful to Reaper for saving her. Gifting her with the gift of freedom and for that she felt forever bound to him. Bounded to the dark shadow of a man with blood stained hands and heart of a warrior.

Using her photogenic memory,Scout had remembered the way to town from the drive to the new home. She ended up right in the middle of town with only a few more steps. The town of WIlderbridge was nothing short of close knit that was the perfect place for a family vacation or romantic getaway. Located on the transition area between land and sea. Large cliffs could be seen from miles away. The shops were all tightly seated next door to one another with apartments on top of each one. 'What does a home need?' she wondered to herself.Not just the basics of pots, pans, and some curtains. No, what did a house need to make it a home? That she really couldn't answer. 'Pretty things.' Scout concluded. With a pip in her step, the curly-haired woman ventured forward. 

First stop was the farmer's market.The place felt like a wonderland. Vibrant colors and large varieties of different homemade items. It was beautiful and she hadn't seen anything like it. By the time she finished shopping and spent every penny she had; Scout was drowning in cloth tote bags. She skipped happily through puddles on her way back home. The sky began to grow dark as she returned.

WIth sore shoulders she laid the bags onto the floor of the entryway before leaving her mud covered shoes on the front porch, Just before her hands pushed the door shut,,,the large truck pulled in. Reaper made his way out of the driver's seat and staggered along. Stopping by the front door the pair eyes one another. Scout with widened eyes and Reaper with glaring ones. A permanent grimace across his lips."The hell happened to you?" he grunted over as his chilling blue eyes looked up and down.

"I went shopping…did some exploring."She replied bashfully, eyeing him as well. "You look…" she fumbled to find the words,"Tired."

"Like shit you mean." He scoffed before starting to make his way inside. He was blocked and slightly taken aback by her hand pressing against his wet coat.

"Take off your shoes. You'll track mud inside." Scout said. 

Her request fell on deaf ears as Reaper pushed past her. His movements were swift and harsh. She took notice of how he ducked his head down and dragged himself in through the door. He had barely made it to the living room before collapsing onto the floor. The large thump caused the whole house to raddle.

"Reaper!" Scout squeaked before rushing over towards him. She dropped to her knees beside him and carefully poked his side. He didn't move one bit. The only sign of life was the air escaping his nostrils."Oh dear…don't worry I'll help you." she whispered frantically. her fingers wrapped around the corners of the collar of his wet jacket before she yanked it off with all her might. A groan escaped The Reaper's lips as she did so. A sloppy bandage soaked in blood covered his shoulder. Scout winced at the sight before getting up onto her feet and rushing to the front door. She had made sure to lock it and place a nearby footstool underneath the lock as a makeshift deadbolt. A Sense of fear had struck her at the thought of someone possibly hurting them both now that Reaper was wounded. In his line of work she didn't know what to expect. 

The new pillows she brought would now have to be used. He placed his head on one and used the others for the right side of his body as she used all her waist to turn him over. Pushing herself forward from the strength of her hips and knees, Scout pushed and pushed until he was laid on his non-wounded side. Wounds were nothing new to her. She had her fair share of ugly scars. Either she had to clean herself up or have a maid do it. 

Reaper had a first aid kit laid carelessly in the kitchen sink and when Scout went to retrieve it, she tossed her wet clothing onto the floor before boiling a pot of water on the stove. A few sprinkles of rock salt were added to it with a penny sized amount of alcohol. Once the water was warm enough, Scout carried the pot with her. Thunder crackled loudly causing her to flinch as she rushed back to the living room.The monstrous lightening being the only light visible in the compact space. Popping the kit open she proceeded to take out gauze bandaging, antibiotical cream, and surprisingly a syringe and morphine. 

When she had ripped his dirty henley shirt off her eyes ranked along his back. Angry, reddened slashes healed and some slightly more fresh painted his skin. As if someone played tic-tac-toe with a knife. She swiftly turned away from staring and ran the lukewarm water through the wound. A grizzly grunt escaped his lips against the pillow as she cleaned the wound. She then proceeded to pat the area around the open flesh dry before applying the antibacterial cream around the pink colored scab. The wound looked angry and she practically climbed on top of his lower back to tightly wrap the gauze around his large shoulder and arm. Scout used a total of two gauzes before everything was set in place snuggly and firm. With steady hands, the woman filled the syringe with morphine and injected it into his arm. 

As she cleaned off the day's dirt from his face and hair with a wash rag; scout admired his face. He aged like fine wine. Even with a scowl across his medium-sized lips and frowning crease indented in the middle of his forehead from glaring so much; He was enchanting. He had such a nordic, rustic type of beauty to him. Perhaps he was a viking in his past life. He sure had the looks of one.

"Don't you die on me Reaper." Scout whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

 He felt like hell. The Reaper had awoken by the sounds of rain pickling against wood and the scent of lemon and sugar. Lowly dim lights from candles on the coffee table had  allowed him to see within the once dark room. His bones ached as his body felt heavy. Slowly he sat up with his jaw clenching as pain shot up his arm. Looking down for a moment, he noticed he was covered in layers of quilts. To which he peeled off as he began to stand with help from his arm and hand. The Reaper wiggled his toes as he looked down at the fresh pair of socks that covered his feet.

She fixed him up…Reaper realized as he brushed his hand along his arm. 

"Scout." He called out for her. He began making his way towards the hallway staircase and that was when he heard the loud gushing of the shower running. Turning away on heel, Reaper followed the scent of lemon and sugar to the kitchen. 

A single candle was placed on the table alongside a plate with lemon loaf on it. Some sort of white icing glazed the top of it and Reaper couldn't deny it smells heavenly. As he looked closer, the word 'Reaper' was written in icing across the pastry. The slightness of a smile creased the corner of his lips for a moment. It caused a spark of warmth within his cold being. He took a seat upon the creaky-old wooden chair before cutting himself a hefty slice.The quiet sense of normality in just eating a homemade piece of food and sitting in a kitchen felt so serene. Food had been made for him by the women in his life for as long as he could remember but the thought and feeling felt like a distant memory.

"Oh! I'm so happy you're awake. How are you feeling?" Scout's chipper tone broke Reaper from his sulking thoughts. His eyes ranked over her as she stood before him dressed in a figure-hugging ribbed dress that stopped just above her plump thighs. Her tight coils glisenced with water as they sat at the edge of her neck. a few droplets of water staining the top of her dress. He took notice of how plump and ample her skin was. So soft and squishy in appearance. She radiated the word cozy.

"Better than when I came in." His eyes pierced into hers as Scout walked closer to him. He could smell the fresh mint of her soap. "Thanks for patching me up. Where'd you learn how to do that,darlin?" his attention fell to her ass as she walked by him to get to the stove.

"You took care of me. Only right I do the same." She insisted as she grasped two newly brought kitten mugs, "Trial and error over the years. Some stuff I learned from the maids." Black coffee was poured into both mugs, "I take it you're a one sugar type of guy."

"You're right." Reaper smirked. 

The ceramic clicked against the table top as she set the mugs down. Taking a seat. her eyes ranked along his bare chest. A thick honey blonde happy trail was perfectly laid along his lower abdomen. The script-like font tattoo across his muscular peck sparked her curiosity. She dared not ask about it. Scout figured it was either his father's name or his child's name. Her master had a list of his children's names tattooed on his back. All eighteen of them.

"Are we…are we staying here long? Is this our home now?" Scout asked after moments of silence.

Our home. Our. 

 Terms that Reaper hadn't heard in a decade."The contract is for a year. This place is close but not too close so…yeah." He proceeded to wash down his slice of pastry with the hot beverage. The man nearly choked on his food when he was suddenly embraced in a tight hug. Breasts pressed against his face with arms wrapped around his neck. For a minute, he sat there stiff. His hands soon raised up and with a bit of hesitation, Reaper laid his hands against her waist and embraced her.

Despite the affection feeling foreign; they both basked in it and held one another in silence. "You should get some sleep." Reaper was the first to pull away. Scout bashfully nodded and fiddled with her fingers. She spun around on her heel and left back upstairs without a word. Utterly, at a loss for words. The pair both couldn't shake the ghostly smiles plastered on their lips.

Taglist; @velocibee @darklydeliciousdesires @darqchilddaydreamz @youflickedtooharddamnit

[orange-coloredsky]

x6 lore dump bullshit. hello. very long

in whisper's canon, basically x6 was created as a shaun-clone like s9, but rather than as a child he's from like shaun's 30s.

timelines might be a bit fucky. i tried my best to stick to time periods that Made Sense to me. spot the funny chase and faraday mention at the end there too

DIGITAL DOCUMENTS LEFT BY ASSORTED HIGH-RANKING SYNTHETIC DEVELOPMENT PROFESSIONALS REGARDING COURSER UNIT X6-88 (FKA 'PROJECT CRONOS') AND ITS CREATION. DO NOT COPY OR REDISTRIBUTE.

PROJECT CRONOS (3/19/2266)

With the successful completion of Project Button, we brought into the world the first child synth-- S9-29. Created in the image of the Institute's Father and current Director, this synth has exceeded all project expectations.

We now prepare to send Project Button into its second phase. Since we were effective in replicating a child version of our great Director, we now plan to recreate him at the height of his health and physical fitness.

It is with Project Cronos that we, the Institute, wish to expand our synth production technology to create what humanity has always dreamed of: the best possible versions of ourselves.

With the pristine samples gracefully given to us by our Director, we aim to produce a stronger, more efficient, and more resilient synth. As humanity's last hope for survival, we cannot afford to fail!

PROJECT CRONOS UPDATES

ENTRY 1 (8/30/2266)

Father has been pleased with the results from Cronos. The synth looks... strikingly like how i remember Father looking when he first took the directorate position. It's actually quite unnerving. Doesn't help that there was a malfunction with the pigmentation of its eyes... so instead of a normal dark brown, it's got these steely grey irises. I hate when it stares at me.

ENTRY 2 (9/11/2266)

After just a week of experiments and trainings, 'Cronos' has already exceeded all expectations. Its durability, stamina, and perception are all miles ahead of even our best coursers.

Father is quite enamored by it. I think it's strange, how attached he's getting. Is it narcissistic to be constantly thinking of a younger version of yourself? Maybe nostalgic? Either way, he might have a new right hand synth. I almost feel bad for X4, getting its spot taken by such a newbie.

ENTRY 3 (11/14/2266)

'Cronos' completed the courser exam this afternoon and passed. With flying colors, of course. It was given the designation of X6-88, in order to fit in with the others. What a shame-- I always thought Cronos was a neat title.

ASSORTED RELATED ENTRIES

FROM THE OFFICE OF <DATA CORRUPTED.> (5/9/2269)

Good LORD. I always knew coursers were a struggle to work with, but this X6-88 is a royal PAIN IN MY ASS. I have never in my life felt so belittled by a synth. It listens fine, it follows orders to the T, but always has an attitude with me! Always rolling its eyes, speaking in that snarky tone...

I don't know what its deal is, but I'll be damned if I let a machine speak to me the way it does! I wouldn't care if Father himself had given birth to the damn thing, that doesn't give it any right to think it is above me-- a living, breathing human being!

FROM THE OFFICE OF DR. JUSTIN AYO (12/23/2271)

X6-88 received its first emotional regulation software update and a personality matrix recalibration today. We'd been begging Father to authenticate the procedures for a few years now, but he refused every time. He finally gave in after X6 snapped off a bit too hard on a SRB technician.

I get that Father enjoys its company... but he's been a bit too lax with its behavior, in my opinion. Sometimes I think he's starting to lose his mind, as he's aging. 20 years ago, Father would never have even thought of letting a synth in his living quarters. Now, he's getting up in arms about his favorite courser needing a new matrix. What has he come to?

COURSER RETENTION RATES (3/18/2271)

Sort by: Alphabetical | Recent Updates | [Unit: Oldest to Newest] | Unit: Newest to Oldest | Objectives Given | Retention % |

Filter: [Active Units] | Input Prefix __ | Retention % >85 | Retention % >70 |

Unit: X4-18 (Active, designated 2/15/21)

Objectives Given: 42

Objectives Retained: 38

Retention %: 90.47

Unit: Z2-47 (Active, designated 4/9/33)

Objectives Given: 27

Objectives Retained: 17

Retention %: 62.96

Notes: i'm begging you guys: keep z2 from fucking killing escaped targets. it's a courser, not a damn bounty hunter. we cant afford any more decommissions this year, zimmer's already riding my ass about misplacing a3 and z7.

Unit: X6-88 (Active, designated 11/14/66)

Objectives Given: 43

Objectives Retained: 40

Retention %: 93.02

Unit: Z7-39 (Active, designated 5/4/68)

Objectives Given: 14

Objectives Retained: 12

Retention %: 85.71

Notes: MIA since November 2270, presumed destroyed. Last known location was on the coast, in pursuit of target D2-02 to Mount Desert Island. Due to weather conditions and hostile locals, retrieval/reclamation of body not recommended. Move to Inactive Units.

[thebreakfastgenie]

So my spring break is next week and I'm making a list of movies to watch and I'm looking for some Alan Alda movies, any recommendations?

You have come to the RIGHT PLACE!!

It kind of depends on what you're looking for, because he's in some very different movies. The ones in bold are the ones I'd recommend, and you can choose depending on your mood.

Alan Alda wrote five movies, four of which he also directed:

The Seduction of Joe Tynan (did not direct) The Four Seasons Sweet Liberty A New Life Betsy's Wedding

If you like politics movies, I'd recommend Joe Tynan. It's an enjoyable movie featuring a young Meryl Streep (also the source of "I'm very oral.")

The Four Seasons is one of my personal favorite movies. It's about the friendships between a bunch of middle aged, upper middle class adults and Carol Burnett is incredible. Two of Alan Alda's daughters also have small roles in it.

Sweet Liberty is a very different experience if you have read Never Have Your Dog Stuffed or know about Alan Alda's childhood. This movie is therapy. As a movie, it has its moments, but it's not great in my opinion. You can have fun with accidental gay subtext, though.

I actually really enjoyed A New Life but I wouldn't say it's a top recommendation. Unless you want to see Alan Alda with a perm.

Betsy's Wedding exceeded my expectations, but they were very low. I wouldn't recommend it until you're starting to run out of Alan Alda movies.

Now for movies Alan Alda simply acted in:

Same Time Next Year I really loved this movie! It's adapted from a play. It's about two people who are married to other people, but meet at the same bed and breakfast on the same weekend every year for an affair. One of the first Alan Alda movies I watched and I'd recommend it.

The Mephisto Waltz This movie is not good, but it is incredible. It's a bad 70s horror movie. The aesthetic is delightful. Everyone in this movie wants Alan Alda's body. His hair is also very floppy. I had such a great time watching it.

Paper Lion He plays George Plimpton, a writer who went undercover as a quarterback for the Detroit Lions. A fun movie if you're into watching young Alan Alda interact with football players.

The Glass House This movie is very dark (like, content warning dark, though not overly graphic). It's the movie he was filming in the Utah State Prison when he got the script for MASH. I thought it was good, but only watch it if you're comfortable.

White Mile In the 90s he said this was his best work which I don't agree with but it is fun, he plays a slightly unhinged and amoral executive and also looks like a drowned rat in one scene. Recommend if you're a fan of "rich people fuck around with nature and find out" movies. A little less Alan Alda centric than some of the others.

Canadian Bacon Michael Moore comedy from the 90s about America invading Canada. It's very topical, but I think it's funny even if you're not keyed into 90s politics. He plays an incompetent U.S. president.

And the Band Played On This is not so much an Alan Alda movie as it is an ensemble movie that Alan Alda has a part in, but it's a pretty good movie in my opinion and I think it's Alan Alda's best performance. He's the closest thing the movie has to a villain (aside from the Reagan administration, who aren't really directly represented) and he is so delightful as a sleazy, petty scientist. It's a heavy movie because it's about the early days of the AIDS crisis. I like it because the heroes are epidemiologists. He also wears tennis shorts.

These are not all the Alan Alda movies I've seen, but the others were bad, contained very little of him, or both.

I have heard he was very good in Crimes and Misdemeanors but I haven't watched it yet because I've never actually watched a Woody Allen movie. I probably will pirate it eventually, but I can't give an opinion on it.

I hope this helps!

[st4rbwrry]

ugh i just got finished reading your fic sketch and boy (or girl in this matter) was it good. there are no words to describe how good it was oh my lordt. your fic is the first one i’ve ever read on this app & you have exceeded my expectations (this is coming from someone who has read wattpad fics while growing up, embarrassing ik lol) i have never read anything like it. to start it off, ive never read a fic where one of the main characters has ocd or anything related in that nature so it instantly had me curious as to where this fic was going. i like that we go to know both eren’s & the fl thoughts a little bit throughout the fic, it added a little pizazz (at least to me). like everything in this story flowed perfectly. them meeting at the museum/gallery & becoming interested in each other, them exchanging information so they could kick it later on, the fl not being happy in her relationship, eren & the female lead thinking of each other, & the fl actually coming over. the way you described eren’s place i could imagine it & mind you it’s literally so hard for me to imagine settings in stories when author’s describe the scene but you did it so perfectly i could literally imagine myself floating in 3rd person & seeing every lol. whew & don’t get me started on the build up to the smut- lawd. the cake part where eren was getting some & literally puts it in her mouth! i didn’t know if i wanted to be the fl or eren like- gawd i never wanted to be a character so bad in my life. & then when it finally started to go down i was blushing so hard because it was so hot. ugh i wish i wasn’t such a pussy so i could show you the ss of the parts that i was literally getting 💢⭕️💢⭕️ but i’ll just say it lol. ik exactly what position you were talking about when you said he but his arm around her collarbone & his whole weight was on her 👀 (even tho i’m literally a virgin but we’re just gonna skip over that lmfao). & when he pressed on that spot & was talking to her while doing it, the butterflies i got mann. WHEN HE TOLD HER TO SINK ON IT LAWD. IT WAS SO FUCKING HOT like the switch from eren being the dom to sub my heart almost couldn’t take it. i’m literally a sucker for sub men & the dialogue during that part WHEW. & even the little time skips around afterwards when they were chilling trying to make pancakes/waffles then it lead to the female lead getting ate out, the bathtub scene, & finally them in the bed together as the fl fell asleep while eren was reading warmed my heart fr fr. BUT THE ENDING?!?! the way i didn’t see that coming from a mile away like whaaaaat?! the worst (not like worst worst but in like worst that got me sad fr but best) one night stand i’ve ever read. the very end i was confused on. what did you mean that he was finally free & that the fl wouldn’t find him if she looked? free as in left the earth? 😭 or free as in he dipped & is just never coming back?

moral of this all is, the way of words you have & your attention to describing detail is so fucking good omg! i hope you take writing seriously because the gift that you have ma’am?! 👩🏽‍⚖️💥💥you have a real gift/talent & i can’t wait to read the rest of your fics because this one was straight up heat istg. ugh i wish i didn’t say this anonymously but i’m literally nervous interacting with people so i do it anonymously but still! supporting you from behind the mask ✊🏽 have a lovely day <3

JAJSJSJDD AHHHHH OMGGGG THIS IS THE BEST FUCKING REVIEW FOR SKETCH EVERRRRRRR. thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly. that’s one of my favorite fics i’ve written and, known fact, took me like two months to finish lol. i wanted it to be PERFECT. i’m really really really glad you took your time to read it, analyze, and enjoy it as well as sending me this review. this means EVERYTHINGGGGGGGG to me. i put my foot in that fic so im very grateful. I LOVE YOU VERY MUCHHHHHHHHHHHH. and i completely understand about being on anon and not feeling to comfortable sharing screenshots. your comments were enough fr. thank you. <3

[alarrytale]

Yeah the Mexico numbers were reported directly by the venue. There were a lot of articles about it at the time because he was the first solo singer to perform there. But the venue numbers weren’t out til after the news cycle. So the articles say 60-70k versus the actual 67k attendance & 73k tickets sold.

I remember the Greece situation. People were upset because it went from having some seats available in the one venue to standing only in the new venue.

Agree with you and one of the anons, he does go to places other artists don’t go to. I don’t think he once said he will fill venues like 1D did or Harry does. He just wants to play his music to as many places as possible. Nothing wrong with that. I do think latam took a lot out of him though. He would fly to the next place right after his performance often, even wearing his same clothes from on stage.

Louis had a different tour guy this time and I think the other guy was better at estimating and timing of these shows than this new one. I think he had a solid tour numbers wise and fans enjoyed themselves. Yes we would all love to see him sell out stadiums but as a singer with zero radio support he exceeded expectations. Don’t forget ALL the 1D guys get that support in their solo music but him. That fact was very evident when Zayn and Liam’s new songs came out this year.

Fans want the venue they booked regardless of if this is more demand and LTHQ should honour that. In the case of Athens the first venue was a beautiful ancient amphitheatre overlooking the sea that is a famous and beloved venue. Many people had booked hotels on the coast near it to make a beach holiday of the trip and were then told they had to travel into the suburbs, ten miles away from their hotel, to a basic venue all on one level who nobody had heard of just so Louis could sell a few more tickets.

I don't think the UAs just pull numbers out of their asses.// Well they are overly optimistic because they love Louis. One big UA said he sold 40k tickets for Velez Sarsfield in Argentina but photos showed the mid and top levels were dark and empty and his wiki says he sold 21k.

Hi, anons!

I agree that fans want the venue they booked. I would be royally pissed if i paid for seating close to the stage with good view, but ended up with GA tickets, where if you don’t sprint when gates open, you'll end up in being in a pack of people with blocked view. So venue change should be avoided. It just pisses fans off and make them not want to go next time (or hold off on buying until showtime, which make venue booking for Louis' team even harder).

About the reported numbers. I saw one UA say that tickets sold out (i imagine it was the sectiones they had on sale at the time) and then probably googled the stadium capacity, thinking he'd sold out the stadium. I don't think it was deliberate misinformation to hype Louis. I think they didn’t understand how they sell section for section and "tickets not available isn't the same as sold out.

To sum up this whole discourse. Attendence number isn't everything to Louis. He's more interested in every fan getting to see him play, so he's going places that won't give him the best numbers and he's booking larger venues to assure that every one who wants to see him does. He doesn’t know when (if) he's ever able to come back to some of these places. His tour team and management sucks, they don't respect fans and are shitty at communication to the point of being disrespectful, but what else is new. Louis will never pull the number 1D and H does, for several reasons, and he knows that. Regardless, his numbers are great, considering everything (image, music genre, performance, lack of stage presence, entertainment value etc.).

[salkantaytrek-peru]

Amazing experience with ITEP on the Inca Trail

We just got back from the 4 day Inca Trail hike. It was amazing. And the team from ITEP far exceeded our expectations. Our guide Jesus Rudolfo Validivia Zamora (Jesus) was absolutely the best. I would not even consider going without him again. He was caring and kind. Assessed our abilities and expertly guided us through the 26 mile journey. And all the while with a sense of humor and humility. 

He provided us with both guidance and education along our journey and I truly value and appreciated spending time with him. He joined us in camp and without us even asking he made sure that every need was met and that we enjoyed our adventure. Our team of porters was top notch. They made sure that everything was perfect. And I have to say that our Chef Sebastian was bar none the best adventure chef I have ever had the pleasure of traveling with. With very few resources his meals did not disappoint and were actually better than many that we had in restaurants. He fed us 3 meals per day as well as tea each afternoon. Each meal was unique, expertly crafted and delicious.

It was such a pleasure to travel with this team. They made the trip perfect for us. If you can ask for Jesus as your guide and Sebastian as your chef. This was an amazing adventure and these two made it perfect for us.

Written October 12, 2023

More info:

info@salkantaytrek.org

+51 970 506 205

[deltabposolutions]

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[thehikingviking]

Kisokomaga-take, The High Point of the Chuo Alps

Kisokomaga-take is an ultra prominent peak, the high point of the Chuo Alps and one of the 100 Famous Mountains of Japan. Typically a peak with these kinds of credentials would be too difficult for a man with a very pregnant wife and an opinionated toddler to climb, however thankfully there is a ropeway that takes the softer variation of hiker to within 1,000 vertical feet of the summit. I planned to use this unapologetically. Tagging along with us was our dear friend Jon, who had joined me on a fruitful and adventurous tour of the Yatsuga-take mountain range the day prior.

We woke up at Hotel Route-Inn Komagane Inter, which had an incredibly rude and unintelligent staff. I will save our kind reader from the injustices endured, but I will strongly recommend future hikers to stay elsewhere. After breakfast we drove to the Suganodai Bus Center where we parked our car and waited for a bus to pick us up. After a long and windy ride, we arrived at Komagatake Ropeway Shirabidaira Station. We entered the gondola and flew briskly through the enchanted clouds above.

I had planned to put Leif in the carrier here, but he wanted to walk instead. The trail took us across and up the Senjojiki Cirque.

Leif hiked at a quick enough pace for a while, but eventually I put him in the carrier and we climbed up a series of switchbacks shrouded in clouds. We passed every single group ahead of us, even with babies in tow. We made it to the top of the ridge where there was a hut/restaurant then continued north.

The trail split here with one fork going around to the left and the other going up and over Naka-dake, an intermediate peak to the right. We took the path to the left as this required less gain, and soon after the crowds vanished.

I felt like we were in the Lord of the Rings.

We emerged at the saddle on the north side of Naka-dake and continued up the south slopes of Kisokomaga-take until we reached the summit.

We walked around a bit looking at the various summit structures and shrines, but there were no views to be had.

It was a little cold so we didn’t stay long. We headed back down, but this time chose to climb over Naka-dake. World famous and highly accomplished peak bagger Rob Woodall claimed it was not something he would risk soloing. I was able to free solo what I believe was a 5.6 granite summit block. There is minimal exposure but the climb does require some basic rock climbing technique. I did it in my TX4 approach shoes. Other options included an off-width and a crack. I even found a couple old pitons drilled into a face.

So now it is settled. Most likely everyone on the peak bagger app who logged a successful climb of this peak is a liar. Shame on them. After joining Leif and Asaka on a lower nearby summit, we continued back down to the hut/restaurant. Asaka, Jon and Leif would wait here while I attempt Hoken-dake, another bonus peak to our south.

Many reports online claim this as a difficult peak, but I found quite the opposite. I was literally able to jog almost the whole way to this peak. There was some scrambling near the top but it never exceeded easy class 3.

I didn’t stay long since I had a family waiting for me so I snapped a couple photos and resumed my jaunt back down the ridgeline.

I met the others inside the warm hut. They had ordered food and were ready to go. We hiked back down to the ropeway, getting back earlier than we expected. The hike was only 3.5 miles with all bonus peaks included.

We rode the gondola back down to the bus, then rode the bus back down to the parking lot.

We spent some time in the little village area looking around at the shops then continued on our way.

We then drove to a small village in the countryside where we spent the night at a very remote inn.

[potionsprefect]

Late Night Talks

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Victoria and Ethan chat after their moment together

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff

Whilst the couple were wrapped tightly amongst each other in the bedroom overlooking the waterfront, the city went about its normal business, oblivious to the two in the large apartment who had finally given into their desires.

Victoria knew she needed to talk to him, she never expected to end up in his bed afterwards. They had been silently thinking about their feelings for each other, the kiss in Miami constantly on both of their minds.

And now here they were, lying sated and happy in Ethan’s bed.

“I didn’t think the third time would be as good. But you exceeded my expectations.” Victoria said as she rolled onto her front.

Ethan chuckled quietly. “I’ll admit the second time tired me out, but I’ve always got energy left for more.”

“I had a hunch.” Victoria grinned.

Ethan slid down to her eye level. “And when did you have that exactly?”

“I saw that body during the MRI scan. I had a feeling it could go a few rounds.” Victoria smirked.

“Well I’m glad I live up to expectations.” Ethan said.

“I never doubted you.” Victoria giggled as she turned to lay on her back.

Ethan laid beside her. “There are so many things I don’t know about you. Tell me all about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Victoria looked at him.

“Everything. We’ve already talked about the Teresa Martinez case, we don’t have to go anywhere near that. Let’s talk about some good things.”

“Okay. Well like you, I went to John Hopkins, graduated top of my class.”

“I knew that, remember who read your application?” Ethan smirked.

“I’m sure it was the best of the bunch. What did you like about it?” Victoria asked.

“Well now that would be favouritism. I don’t tell other colleagues what I liked about their application.” Ethan said, a wicked smile on his face.

“True but you don’t have other colleagues in your bed. I think I’m the exception.” Victoria grinned.

“You make a good point, maybe that’s why I was so drawn to you.” Ethan chuckled as he pressed a kiss to Victoria’s neck. “I was impressed by your driven attitude, you demonstrated that you went that extra mile that would make your application stand out. And in the end, it was all worth it.” He smiled.

“When the opportunity to work for Edenbrook is there, you have to go for it.” Victoria said.

“I agree. What else don’t I know about you? It doesn’t feel right to have you in my bed like this when I don’t know much about you.”

“Be honest, you found me attractive.” Victoria laughed.

“Well that is a reason.” Ethan laughed.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Tell me everything about you.” Ethan smiled, leaning on one hand.

“Well I’m originally from Westchester in New York, I grew up with my Mom, Dad and younger brother and sister.”

“What are their names?” Ethan asked.

“My parents are called Jane and Michael, my brother and sister are called William and Sarah.” Victoria smiled.

“Are you the only doctor in the family?” Ethan said.

“I am. And by my siblings standards, I’m the favourite child.” Victoria laughed.

“Usually it’s the youngest, but I can see why.” Ethan laughed. “What did you think of John Hopkins when you first arrived? Pretty impressive isn’t it.”

“It is. I knew I made the right choice deciding to study there. I enjoyed every minute of it. I also should note that I enjoyed reading all the material you published over the years. Without it, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“What here in my bed?” Ethan teased.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I’m supposed to be the funny one.”

Ethan laughed. “I know. You mean here as in a doctor, studying at one of the best hospitals in the country.”

“Precisely. And your work was very good.”

The couple drifted into a comfortable silence, soft touches and gentle kisses every so often. They both felt happy, satisfied in each other’s company. Victoria could feel her eyelids dropping, the warmth of Ethan’s body pulling her into a doze. She sighed happily, snuggling closer.

“There’s something I want to tell you.” Ethan spoke, his voice so quiet Victoria barely heard him.

“What is it?“ Victoria yawned.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night in Miami. The way I held you, kissed you, I’ve been wanting to repeat it for a while. I don’t know if there is something between us. I’d like to see if there is. But only if you want to as well.”

Victoria leaned back so she could look at him properly. “I meant what I said. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long. I want to see if there is something too.”

“You do?” Ethan’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah. We don’t have to label it. We can just be two people, with something between them, exploring whatever it is.” Victoria smiled.

“That sounds good. If it’s okay with you, I’d also like to keep it out of the hospital. People are known to gossip.”

“That sounds like a good idea. And it’ll be fun, only the two of us knowing.”

Ethan pressed his lips to hers. “I’m glad you agree. It’s kind of surreal thinking about it. I’ve thought about it for months.”

“I’ll admit I was upset when you put a stop to what we had in Miami. But looking back, I realise you did the right thing. We waited for the right moment. I don’t know how I would’ve coped if we had slept together and then had to go back to being just an attending and an intern.” Victoria replied.

“We can only look forwards now. That’s the main thing.” Ethan said as he pressed a delicate kiss to Victoria’s forehead.

Victoria smiled as she snuggled further into Ethan’s arms. It had been amazing taking the next step with Ethan and now they were both looking forward to seeing what they had between them.

They fell asleep that night happy in each other’s arms.

And then the silly Doctor put distance between them when he realised they had to go back to being an attending and an intern, and then he went off to the Amazon

Luckily it all ends well!

Tagging in reblog

[xgryffinwhore]

september nights

request:  i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.” 

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.” 

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door,  feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you. 

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you. 

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations. 

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

 you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed. 

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne. 

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special. 

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again. 

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good  bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his. 

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek. 

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers. 

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs.��

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

[lilxberry]

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy​

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao. 

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

_______________

You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

_______________

Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

_______________

You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere​ 

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

WICKED GAME - by @wonderbatwayne & @not-so-mundane-after-all-97

Fandom: DC Titans

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson/Kory Anders, Dick Grayson & Rachel Roth, Kory Anders & Rachel Roth, Rachel Roth & Garfield Logan, Graysonfam

Chapter: 16/16

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Everybody plays a game. Every move counts, anyone, can be a player. Some play dirty, some play nice, everybody's got eyes on the main prize.

In a world of deception, money, and power, where women are forced to dance with the devil in the name of survival, where men need to break their oaths to do the right thing, Dick Grayson is on a mission to win. A man with a plan, with a goal and a target. Trigon Azarath needs to be eliminated by any means necessary. He's been playing a very long and calculated game, and it has to stop now.

But what happens when a little ballerina with raven hair and a guarded heart, a girl who shouldn't even exist for all he knows, spins the table on him like the pirouettes she does on stage? When a woman with green eyes and a bloody past sets his world ablaze instead of being just a step on the road to victory? Will sticking to the rules be worth the outcome?

It's a wicked game to play, indeed.

Rhi:

And with that we draw final curtains on Wicked Game. I'm still in awe we created this, we brought it to life and you all supported us by devouring every crumb and screaming about every plot twist. You are truly amazing. Wicked Game isn't just mine and Mundi's... It belongs to everyone who loves these characters and these relationships as much as we do. Thank you for the incredible ride you've given us, all the love week to week. We couldn't ask for better friends and readers!

But there is one very special person I want to thank. My writing partner in crime. The person who breathes the heart of this story. The wonderful, the brilliant, the insanely talented Mundi. This story wouldn't exist without her. I wouldn't be half the writer I am without her. Thank you bestie, for making this collab such a dream, for always encouraging me to push beyond my limits and always cheering me on.

We've played a Wicked Game with you all these past 16 weeks but now the game is over! I guess we all won!

Mundi:

Well, game's over. It's honestly mind blowing this thing actually exist, I still to this day look at his fic, at all the ramblings and brainstorming and I can't believe we did this. But what's more important is that we did this for YOU. This amazing, wonderful fandom that deserves the whole world, our friends from far away who were right here with us on this special journey. Your reaction to this story, the way it was received, it exceeded our hopes and expectations by miles!!! Every laugh, every cry, all the screaming and all the therapy bills thrown at us, we'll cherish that forever. My heart is in shambles right now because the ride is ending, but I'm also so so so thankful to all of you for joining us on this roller coaster. The best friends we've ever had, the best audience we could have hoped for. THANK YOU.

And of course I have to take off the crown and bow down low to my partner in crime. Rhi, my darling, if it wasn't for you, that little scene of Dick seeing his baby girl as a ballerina in a different universe would still be stuck in the back drawer of my brain. You breathed life into it and helped me nurture it and grow it into this magnificent thing. It was an expierence of a lifetime and I will never forget it, I'll be in my 80s still remember every little detail of this adventure. You are incredible. I've learned so much from you, I've grown as a creator, as a writer and as a person because of you. To find a person who clicks with you so easily, who rides on the same frequency as you and loves the art they make and the show they make it for just as much as you do is sometimes a miracle, but it happened to me and I will never be able to fully express how much that means to me. Here's to you, to you brilliant, unbelievable talent and to this friendship that will last as long as Tumblr and ao3 are breathing and LONG AFTER THAT.

And that's a curtain call on Wicked Game. Roll the credits, check the scores. And then... Play it all over again.

@undertheknightwing @legendsofentity @mejacinta @meetmeunderthestarrynight @escapism-through-imagination @lady-stirling @grocerylines @xburningbluex @ambelle @ffiamgoku @greatthingssmallworld @garsfavouritejacket @redhairgreeneyes1 @halliwellextra @happilyshanghaied @jerriandtheirfanfics @koryvndr

[edie-baby]

Les Fleurs du Mal Chapter 1| Pierre Gasly

Summary: Sava Dvorakova had big dreams for Formula One. An opportunity of a lifetime comes around, so she takes it and runs. She proved just about everyone wrong, and is awarded a very controversial seat on the F1 grid. There’s smiles and grins, hugs and kisses, love and laughter. There’s tears and sobs, fights and break ups. There’s evil where you least expect it, hidden in the garden of eden. The Flowers of Evil.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, shitty parents (they’re a recurring theme), sexism, i ignored a lot of actual f1 rules because i couldn’t be bothered writing it into the story tbh, yuki is fcking adorable, a lot of smut eventually, like a lot.

There were hundreds, thousands, maybe even a million girls who have dreamed of making it into Formula One. It is the pinnacle of motorsport, the highest calibre and the most competitive of its many engine-based counterparts. Many women over the years have tried to make their way into the sport, but as each season becomes more competitive, it seems as though the women of motorsport keep slipping through the cracks. Perhaps it’s a timing thing - they weren’t in the right place at the right time - or perhaps it’s a sexism thing, or maybe the female drivers just simply are not at the same level that a lot of the men are at.

Sava Dvorakova feared being one of those women. One that would try their hardest, but were still unable to make their mark on a sport they had very clear passion for. The seventeen year old had been karting since her fifth birthday, progressing through the levels the Czech Republic had to offer before she moved onto European championships. Nearly every weekend of the year, Sava was in her kart, racing against boys three years her senior and thrashing them each time. However, she didn’t get the opportunity to progress into single-seaters for many years.

It was September 2020, just like any other race weekend when it happened, Sava piled into her kart as the marshalling for her heat was called. Her uncle patted the top of her helmet for good luck, a tradition the two had kept for about twelve years at this point, and she made it out onto her starting place - pole position as usual. Sava pulled clean moves the entire race, defended her position without being reckless or desperate, and had perfect pace. As she pulled back into the pits under her team’s marquee, she spotted her uncle speaking with an older man in a button up and slacks, something quite odd for a normal karting weekend. Sava hopped out, practically ripping her helmet and balaclava off as her footsteps increased in pace to get to her uncle. He scooped her up into a hug, spinning the girl a few times and congratulating her on another victory for the season.

“Bunny, this is Doctor Helmut Marko, he’s the director of Red Bull Racing. He’d like to speak with you about a driving opportunity.” Sebastian, her uncle, stated clearly, his excitement spilling into his eyes as he stared at his seventeen year old niece. Her dyed-pink hair sat matted to her forehead, the majority of it spun into Dutch braids down her back that would be tucked into the back of her race suit before the next race, her cheeks were flushed red, and her bottom lip was cracked in places from how much the Czech nibbled on it on and off track. Sebastian almost laughed at the situation she had ended up in.

“Dr Marko, it’s lovely to meet you. I have an hour until my next heat, so if you would like to speak urgently, there is a small cafe about a hundred metres from the track. If you’d like less of a time constraint, I will be completely free after 4pm today.” Sava told the man in front of her, Czech accent so thick the Austrian could barely understand her.

“It should only take about 10 minutes, so if you’d like, I can buy you and your uncle a coffee at the cafe while we speak.” Dr Marko offered. Sava nodded calmly, her uncle much more vocal about his excitement. Sava excused herself to change into less sweaty clothes, returning in a halter-neck singlet and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Her trusty combat boots stepped over all of the tools, debris, and shit that was scattered around the pits as she made it back to the two men.

“So, Sava, what is your goal in karting?” Dr Marko began almost immediately after the trio had sat down in the cafe.

“To make it into formula one and win multiple world championships.” Sava responded confidently, barely a second between the question and her reply as it was something she had thought about for a very long time.

“So why aren’t you already driving in single seaters?” Dr Marko questioned further, and from the corner of her eye, Sava could see her uncle tense up.

“Because no one’s willing to give me a chance in the big leagues because they know I’ll do a lot better than half the boys on the grid.” The seventeen year old replied. Helmut seemed impressed with the rapid fire, confidence laden responses he was receiving.

“Well, I’m willing to. Jehan Daruvala, a Red Bull junior currently driving for Carlin in formula two is unable to attend the last three races of the season because of health issues. I want you to take his seat for those races, and if you’re as good in a single seater as you are in that kart, I’ll make sure you have a seat for next year.” Helmut laid out, and Sebastian audibly choked. Sava smirked at her uncle’s reaction, and stared into the eyes of the man offering her a fast track to her dreams.

“I’d love to. When and where is the next race?” Sava chuckled, her uncle’s recovery from his choking fit was slow, and Helmut looked on in amusement. He had seen many similar reactions from the drivers he was propositioning, but it seemed as though this duo had reversed the normal roles.

“The weekend begins on Thursday in Italy. You’ll be racing in Mugello.” Helmut told the pair dryly. Sebastian began coughing once again, Sava simply rubbing his back soothingly while she nodded.

“I’ll need to make arrangements with my school, but I presume you’ll make travel and accommodation arrangements from Prague to Mugello?” Sava continued her calm conversation, though she could feel her natural bubbliness and excitement ready to burst through.

“Yes. There will be a Carlin race suit and boots in Mugello when you arrive, as well as a helmet and teamwear. You’ll have a personal assistant for the time you’re in Jehan’s seat, to keep up with the media and to navigate the paddock. I’ll have all of the relevant information forwarded to you tonight, and there will be a contract for you to sign upon your arrival in Italy.”

“Then I’ll see you there, sir. I best be on my way, I’ll need time to change back into my race suit before my heat is called in about half an hour. It was lovely to meet you, and I look forward to meeting and exceeding your expectations.” Sava concluded, standing up to give her new boss a handshake before she turned on her heels and practically sprinted out of the cafe. She speed walked back to the track and into the changing rooms before letting out the ear splitting squeal she had been holding in since she won her race forty five minutes ago.

It was easy enough to sort out her absence with her school, as there were no assessments due and Sava was already miles ahead of the rest of her peers, so her teachers had no qualms with letting their champion out to represent the country.

The issue however, was with her parents. Her father, a man she had been emancipated from for over a year, decided he would give her grief for throwing away her education to take someone’s spot for a few weeks before they would inevitably drop her once they realised how bad she was. Her mother wasn’t much better. As her legal guardian, she technically did have the right to stop her daughter from going into the F2 seat, but after a gruelling discussion and many threats from Sava to emancipate from her mother as well, she conceded.

So, on a very sunny, very early Thursday morning in September, Sava hopped onto a plane with an overnight bag to begin catching her dreams. Unfortunately, Sebastian had work during the week, but would be flying out to Italy on Friday night to watch his niece’s races on Saturday and Sunday. But, Sava arrived in Italy as bubbly and excitable as ever. Her pink hair was split into her iconic high pigtails, a white crop top, and pastel pink pleated skirt and trusted combat boots covered her form, black duffel bag thrown over her shoulder with some clothes for the weekend, and all of her travel documents. The PA standing with her name printed on a sign was very confused when a very small, very pink teenage girl bumbled over to her and said ‘Hi, I’m Sava. But everyone calls me Bunny’.

“I’m sorry, I expected someone a little more gritty.” The twenty-something woman spoke, her blonde hair in a high ponytail with a Carlin shirt and dark wash jeans. Sava guessed the PA expected someone who looked more like herself.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot. Most people don’t recognise me out of my race suit, so I definitely don’t expect someone who’s never seen me to anticipate my looks. What’s your name?” Sava’s Czech accent, combined with her hyperactivity meant she talked extremely fast, and often it was all nonsense, and she simply spoke for the sake of speaking. The PA took a few seconds to process the words Sava had spoken before finally replying with a simple ‘Amelia’. The two made it to the car that was waiting and travelled to the track in silence, Sava taking in the sights, and Amelia tapping away at her phone. When they got out, Amelia handed Sava a paddock pass, explaining the importance of it and demonstrating how to use it at the gates. They walked through to the Carlin garage, one half working away excitedly, while the other side seemed rather dead.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please? This is Sava Dvorakova, she’s our reserve driver for the rest of the season. Make her comfortable, and make sure she feels welcome!” Amelia yelled, very quickly causing silence to spread over the entire garage.

“Hi! I’m Sava, but most people call me Bunny, so feel free to do either! Or if you’d like, Dvorakova works just as well, but it’s a bit of a mouthful so I understand if you mispronounce it. I’ll also probably respond to ‘hey you’ so anything works. I’m really looking forward to working with you all and giving you some good results this weekend!” Sava giggled at the end, her fists clenched in front of her chest as she gave a small cheer with her hands and the entire garage remained silent for a few moments before breaking out into whispers, their eyes trailing over the teenager’s body. The anxiety in Sava’s belly bubbled, and she began playing with her hands until she was approached by a boy who was a little taller than her with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hi, I’m Yuki. I drive the other Carlin. It’s nice to meet you Bunny.” Yuki introduced with a smile and fist bump. He was unbelievably pleased to meet a driver who was smaller than him, though he supposed that her being a girl wouldn’t ease all of the teasing he got from other drivers on the grid. The two chatted about their background in racing, and Yuki gave Sava a few pointers on handling the car she was about to drive for the first time ever.

“Sava, I have all of your race gear to try on, and later on you’ll need to do a seat fitting as the mechanics are just going to modify one of Yuki’s seats since you two are similar height.” Amelia stated, breaking up the conversation between the two youngsters. Sava apologised to her new friend before practically skipping behind Amelia. She received a few weird looks from others in the paddock, including a few F1 drivers she recognised from TV and her Instagram feed. She wasn’t sure why they were in this paddock, but supposed a few of the younger guys had only recently come out of F2.

When she got into a Carlin motorhome, race overalls and her flame-retardant undersuit were thrust into her hands by Amelia, and then pointed toward a tiny bathroom within the motorhome while the PA continued scrolling through emails, updating social media, and answering calls. Sava pulled the suits on excitedly, and though it was a bit tight in the hips, thighs and chest, she thought it looked pretty damn good.

“So, I think this was definitely made for a guy with less boobs and smaller hips, but the fit is still really good.” Sava joked to Amelia when she stepped out, only to see Helmut Marko standing alongside her new assistant. She went red instantly, her shoulders tensing and sliding up toward her head.

“Yes, well, we can certainly fix that before the next race, but right now, I believe you’re needed for fittings in the garage, so throw on your helmet and get down there.” Helmut ordered. Sava quickly snatched up her balaclava and helmet, threading the two onto her arm as she began undoing the pigtails to braid them on her way back to the Carlin garage while Amelia and Helmut stayed behind to talk.

If Sava thought she was getting weird looks on her way to the motorhome, she was getting even weirder ones on the way back from it. From what she could tell, it seemed more like mechanics, engineers and other personnel from other teams and she couldn’t see any drivers she recognised before she slipped into the Carlin garage, one braid half finished, and her helmet banging against her head every time she moved her arm. Yuki laughed at her struggles, ambling over to thread the helmet and balaclava off her arm while she held the half finished braid precariously. Sava thanked him with a quick smile and continued braiding, her tongue occasionally poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. One she was finished, and the long braids were tucked into the back of her suit, she pulled on the balaclava and helmet in record speed, and then was ushered into the F2 car to begin the tedious process of trying and changing one of Yuki’s seats to suit her height and posture. 

After about an hour of fiddling, she was allowed to take the helmet off, and was beginning to doze off in the cockpit while a few of the employees debated different ways of measuring and fixing the seat nearby. Amelia came into the garage to find the new driver fully asleep in her car with everyone still talking around her. She took a photo and uploaded it to Carlin’s Instagram story, tagging the driver and writing a quick word about the reserve driver they hadn’t officially announced yet. She giggled slightly, and when two of the mechanics came back over to lift the seat out of the car, they accidentally lifted the driver out with it. Amelia took more photos of the seventeen year old comfortably in her race suit, curled in her seat while two mechanics held the entire ensemble up above the car.

Suffice to say, Carlin’s Instragram was flooded with adoring new fans, angered stans, and a few cheeky formula one drivers on private accounts.