#finally learning to drive at 23 and it's going so well
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Shout out to everyone who's also hitting milestones later than society says you should. Take your time, move at your pace. It'll be okay and I fucking LOVE YOU. SO MUCH.
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Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
main masterlist
summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!
a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3
The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.
You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.
Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.
But that could never happen.
You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.
You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.
Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.
“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.
But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.
You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.
“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.
“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.
“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.
You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.
This is going to be a long trip.
Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.
“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.
“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.
You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.
“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.
The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.
You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.
You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.
Because that's exactly what you do.
It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.
You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.
You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.
The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.
You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.
His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.
You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.
Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.
You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.
“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.
You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.
You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.
“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.
You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”
You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.
You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.
You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”
You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.
Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.
You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.
“The hell you doin’?”
You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”
Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.
You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”
His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.
This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.
“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”
You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.
“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.
“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.
“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.
Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.
You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.
The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.
When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.
Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.
You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.
You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.
He stands leaning against the frame in silence as his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.
You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.
“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.
“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”
“It’s just us then?”
“Mhm,”
You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.
You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.
Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.
He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.
“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.
He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.
“Please,”
“Please what, darlin’?”
You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”
Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”
You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.
You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”
“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.
Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.
His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.
You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.
He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.
Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.
“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.
“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.
He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.
You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.
You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.
You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.
A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.
“y– ha – yes,”
“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.
“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.
You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.
“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.
You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,”
He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.
You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.
“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.
He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.
He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.
“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.
You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.
Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.
The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.
“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.
His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.
You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.
Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.
When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.
You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.
He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.
After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.
You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.
“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.
You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.
Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.
#joel x reader#dbf!joel#road trip#smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#i'm literally terrified to share this omg#concert without the concert#happy tlou day and happy birthday to joel#dbf trope has me in a chokehold
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A Little 'You’re Mine' SMAU
Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader SMAU | Following the first fic 'You're Mine' of of The Complete 'Ours' Series
See Full SMAU here
(Let me know if this is how SMAUs work. This is my first one)
From the beginning...
liked by trentarnold66 and others Y/N.jpg Ended up here 🤫 view all 23 comments… trentarnold66 finally 🫠 Lauren.xx What did you even pack in those suitcases? ↳ Y/N.jpg 🙄… Good luggage tho innit? ↳Lauren.xx Who taught you to speak like this???¿¿¿ Winnie.Baby1 Um… Where are you? ↳Y/N.jpg out of this comment section. I’m scared 🤭
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Y/N.jpg “high maintenance” view all 394 comments…
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sasharebecca RT user65 IK this is HIM ↳ user03 right? szoboszlaidominik 😎 mayajama you two 🥹😘 ↳ user17 Trent being remotely friends with maya actually makes my head hurt ↳ user22 she’s friends with Y/N! user11 Ahhh this man 😍😍😍 ↳Y/N.jpg well…my* Trentarnold66 Mine all mine ↳ user20 so confirmed?
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I hope you enjoyed! Next part here!
See all 6 parts here!
#trent alexander arnold#Trent Alexander Arnold x reader#alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold imagines#taa x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer x reader#fie fic#trent alexander arnold smau#footballer smau#trent alexander arnold x reader smau
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Husbands (we love typing that as much as you love reading it) T.K. (Ronen Rubinstein) and Carlos (Rafael L. Silva) are coming into the fifth and final season of 9-1-1: Lone Star (premiering Monday, September 23 on Fox) already dealing with the unsolved murder of the latter’s father. But there’s more drama to come.
Carlos’ obsession with that investigation is going to put their marriage to the test. T.K.’s half-brother, Jonah, is coming to Austin (which is sure to affect Rob Lowe‘s Owen as well). Below, co-showrunner Rashad Raisani previews that and more that’s ahead for the fan-favorite couple.
Carlos is investigating his father’s death. What can you preview about that investigation? That’s also going to involve Campbell (Parker Young), right?
The way we’ve been talking about Campbell and Carlos is that they’re like two brothers, the big brother and the little brother. Carlos comes along, and in Campbell’s mind, he got kind of a free pass because of who his dad, Gabriel Reyes, was, the legend, and to go to the front of the line and become a Texas Ranger. The first episode is about these two brothers both fighting for daddy’s love and daddy being Chief Bridges, their boss. But what’s gonna happen is they learn to respect each other and they’re gonna discover that they’re so much better when they work as a team and they really complement each other brilliantly, not just as investigators, but as characters and frankly to me, as actors. I think just they have a wonderful dynamic that only gets richer as the season goes forward.
Carlos’s father’s murder is a thing that Carlos is not giving that up. It is the central driving force in Carlos’ life. And there’s no way we’re going to end the series without giving that poor guy some answers. So there will be some answers at the end of the day on that.
The season description says that T.K. and Carlos’ marriage is put to the test because Carlos becomes obsessed with solving his father’s murder. What can you tease about how we see that play out and how tough things are gonna get in the middle of that for them? I do have faith that they’re gonna be okay by the end.
A big part for me about their marriage was I really wanted to treat it like a real marriage, and by that, I mean that even though these guys are so wonderful to each other and they’re so handsome, life isn’t perfect no matter who you are and everybody has real struggles that affect even great relationships. And the true strength of a relationship isn’t the absence of challenges and problems, it’s how you grapple with them and encounter them and if they make your relationship stronger or weaker.
And so for Carlos, this burden of his dad’s murder is going to sit there and take up a lot of oxygen in the room and T.K., who is an incredibly supportive husband, is gonna try and be patient and graceful and allow Carlos to have that space. But at a certain point, he’s got to advocate for them to have a future together, and that’s part of what you were talking about with Jonah. I like to think that little boy, in some ways, represents the future of their relationship and Gabriel’s murder represents the past of their relationship, and there’s gonna be a tension between those two things and that’s gonna be their central dynamic this year, is that one person is struggling to get answers in the past and the other person is struggling to move on and build a future, which I think is a very relatable human experience.
All of this makes me think about kids, and that has been a bit of an issue for them in the past. How does that come into play?
I think that’s another pressure point because Carlos was very upfront with T.K. about, “Hey, I’m not ready to have kids and I don’t know if I ever will be,” and then now that his dad’s been murdered, in his headspace, that’s the last thing that he’s got the bandwidth or the emotional energy to deal with. But like I said, T.K. is feeling like life is happening right now, like we don’t get moments back, and especially as a first responder, they see that you can’t take anything for granted. And circumstances are going to align that are going to [lead to] a situation where T.K. is like, I know that you were uncomfortable with taking this next step as a father, but I feel like it’s something powerful that I need to do, and to make that a crisis point for them as well.
I hope that the audience can see the argument from both of their points of view and just go, “S**t, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I would do either.” That’s what I hope because I feel like people have real problems that aren’t so simple as to say, well, he’s right, he’s wrong, whatever. We just wanted to put them through that.
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❝What Remains of the Old Gods:❞ The 1st Chapter



Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Character/Reader
Content/Warnings: Canonical level of blood, angst, swearing, etc., awkward teenagers, john winchester (he’s his own warning)
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: Mara’s tried to ignore strange occurrences around her and her family but as she learns more about her lineage and her father’s attempts to reach out to her estranged uncle, Bobby, she’s compelled to contact him on her own. Unfortunately, making herself known to the hunter, and whatever creatures have an eye on him, forces her to enter the hunting world.

Spring 1998
This shouldn’t be happening. My family lives in Canton, a half an hour away from Sioux Falls, one of the biggest cities in South Dakota. I never really understood, when I was a little kid, why we didn’t move out of Canton, which has nothing if you don’t count the schools and the courthouse or the church, in favor of Sioux Falls. We, apparently, only had family in Texas. I never knew those cousins very well because I’ve only met them a couple times.
This shouldn’t be happening because I live in a normal town, go to a normal school, and prom is next week! So, I try my best to ignore the whispers I hear through my bedroom wall, I really do, but I manage to hear something about my aunt, Karen. I never met her. She died in an accident when I was only old enough to remember that was the only time I had seen my dad cry.
I inch towards the wall, resting my ear against it.
I hear my mom say, “When are you going to let this go?”
“Let this go?” My dad repeats as if he were scolding her. “How could I ever let this go? Do you hear yourself?”
“You say you’ll finally find it out but you never will and it’s about time you understand that,” She says with a level voice.
“I can talk to Bobby, okay? I’ll get him to talk.”
Mom scoffs. “You ought to stop heckling him or, one day, you ain’t never going to come back home either.”
He lets out a sigh. “Nobody’s looking for Karen. If I don’t, who will? If I don’t, she’s just going to end up forgotten.”
I don’t stay to hear the rest. Instead, I lay in bed, my eyes staring at the ceiling. My mind’s stuck sorting through everything, grasping for straws or mentions of, “Bobby,” an estranged uncle whom I’m related to because Karen married the guy. While I can’t think of much, my mind’s buzzing with adrenaline that makes me want to go out and find him. Maybe Bobby would feel bad for me and tell me anything about her.
I do imagine, sometimes, what holidays may have been like if she never disappeared. There would never be a half empty dining table at Thanksgiving or Christmas photos with just my parents and I. Maybe Karen would’ve liked me enough to bring me on a trip around Sioux Falls. Maybe she would make me call her Aunt Karen; I could have grown up with cousins, always there, just a drive away. Her and Bobby couldn’t conceive but maybe they could have adopted. Anything but nothing. Anything, cousins or no cousins, would have been better than growing up with the rest of my family on the other side of the country, which is why I start thinking about things I shouldn’t do.
How can I talk to Bobby? I don’t have a car, and I’m a lot of things, but I can’t steal my parents car.
Frustrated, the thought of calling a couple girls from school crosses my mind but we’re not close enough to talk about…whatever this is.
I wonder how long the walk would be from my house to Bobby’s. I grab a map on my dresser and draw the route to Sioux Falls. 23 miles. I have to look for a bike. I set my alarm clock for 4AM, early enough to sneak out before school starts.
For now, I lay atop my bed and my parents argument comes back to me.
“You ought to stop heckling him or, one day, you ain’t never going to come back home either.”
What does that mean? Bobby’s dangerous? Dad doesn’t believe that. Even from old photos with Karen, Bobby looks like a normal guy, a little overweight with a baseball cap and a beard.

The alarm blares and I smack it till it turns off. I hold my breath, listening for if someone woke up. The only noise is from the AC unit.
I sneak to the garage to check a bike that hasn’t been touched since last summer. After making sure the gears won’t jam on the way there, I throw on some old clothes I don’t mind getting dirty.
My backpack’s stuffed full of maps, water, and protein bars. My eyes look over my room one last time. I decide to leave a note on the kitchen table so even if mom and dad freak out, they at least won’t think I’ve gone missing. I tell them I’ll be back in the evening, and that I’m staying after school for some project.
With spring, the sun’s already shining so there’s enough light on the two-hour bike ride to Bobby’s. My mind wanders during that time to things I can’t avoid because I’m about to meet my uncle who I’ve really only seen once, after an accident years ago.
Bobby had come to my house to ask about what happened. I told him like I’d told everyone else, that it started snowing the morning of October 3rd, 1988. I got on the school bus, and eventually, a bear ran onto the road.
“The bus flipped a couple times, is that right?” Bobby said.
I nodded.
“So, the bus flipped after the driver slammed the brakes, and then it hits a guardrail when it rolls to the shoulder of the road?”
“Yea,” I said.
“And the girl you said was pickin’ on ya, standin’ next to ya, broke her neck but you come out with some scrapes?” He said.
“What are you saying?”
He sighs. “I think I need to speak with your grandmother. Get her opinion.”
“I don’t think she likes you,” I warn Bobby.
“I think so too, kiddo.”
I still don’t know why he wanted to talk with Grandma. I wish I had asked ‘cause it makes no sense, looking back, and I haven’t had a chance to speak with Bobby since.
Grandma was a traditional woman, a devout Christian. She was a normal grandma, nagging me to eat my whole plate, baking desserts for the sake of something sweet, and forcing my mother to accept them; the only odd thing about Grandma was her poorly hidden disdain towards Bobby.
I never had the guts to ask why. There are a multitude of questions I wish I had asked before her passing. Being around my mother, who would rather return to normal life, has made me postpone my grief. Until now, with the reminder of the man she despised.
When I get to Bobby’s house, I can feel the skin on my thighs sticking to my jeans and the way a few strands of hair refuse to stay away from my nape. I look to the house that seems to have a junkyard full of scrappy cars, even though a sleek Chevy Impala’s parked at the front.
Not sure if Bobby has company, and no to determine that with so many cars around, I set my bike on my porch and ring the doorbell. Sounds of shuffling, and something hitting the floor, come from behind the door till it opens.
Bobby stares in shock, his eyes studying me.
“No hello?” I say.
“What are you doin’ here, girl?” He scowls at me.
“Well,” I say, “You haven’t changed one bit, Bobby.”
“You should know better than to be givin’ me that attitude, comin’ all the here, ya idjit.” He gazes past me to the front yard. “Where’s your car?”
“I biked,” Gesturing to it, laying on the porch.
I hear a boy inside ask, “Do you know who that is?”
Bobby moves to the side, silently inviting me in.
The most shocking thing isn’t the books on top of books, in every corner, or the three guys looking at me like I’m an alien, but rather that the oldest man must have aimed his gun at me whilst I was at the door, because I manage to see him lower it to the ground, although he doesn’t put it away. For a moment, I think Mom must have been right about Bobby, or who keeps as company.
“Bobby, who is this?” The man asks.
“Oh, can it, John. I don’t go ‘round lettin’ just anybody in.” Bobby gestures to me, “This is my niece, Mara.”
John nods.
I say, “So, do you go pointin’ that thing at everybody you meet?”
“I mistook you for someone else.”
I don’t pay much attention to him. Instead, my eyes wander to the two younger guys, who look about my age.
“Sorry about that,” one of the boy grimaces.
Bobby says, “This is Sam. The older kid’s Dean. They’re John’s sons.”
“Nice to meet you, Mara,” Dean says, lightly smacking Sam’s back.
“What was that for?” Sam complains under his breath.
He and Dean share a look I don’t really understand.
John says, “As nice as the introductions are, we need to get goin’.” He looks at Dean expectedly.
“Goin’, where?” I question.
For a split second, I can see Bobby starin’ John down.
“They’re just visitin’ some relatives,” Bobby says.
But as Dean and John carry duffel bags, a lot of stuff just for seein’ family, Sam sits at the kitchen table alone, keeping his head down as if the wood’s become memorizing.
I take a seat and say, “Are you not goin’ with them?”
His eyes flicker to the door. “Uh, they don’t like me, the family they’re visiting.”
“You seem normal to me.”
“Thanks,” Sam says, his head still down.
After a few moments only filled with faint conversations between Bobby and John beyond the kitchen, Sam starts picking his nails.
He struggles to ask, “Why was Bobby so taken aback?”
“We haven’t seen each other for a while.”
“Then why visit him?”
I answer, “I wanted to talk to him.”
“About what?” Sam says, leaning towards me just the slightest.
“Family trouble,” I give him a look. “That’s all.”
He seems to relax. If he thinks he’s good at hiding his emotions, he’s got to look in a mirror.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” I say.
“I’m fifteen.”
I tell him, “You don’ look it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His shoulders tense.
I shrug. “You’re the same height as your brother.”
“He’s nineteen,” Sam says.
“Is he in college?”
He opens his mouth and closes it as if struggling to answer. “He –”
Bobby yells from the living room, “Get over here!”
Sam is the first to move but he looks at me worriedly after I get up as well. At the front door, Bobby gestures me over to him.
“I understand you got a lot o’ questions,” He says quietly. “But right now, Sam needs to be spoken to in private.”
“Oh, okay. Let’s just go to the kitchen.”
“I’d suggest you go upstairs to the guest bedroom.”
I shake my head. “This ain’t a sleepover, Bobby, I don’t need a room.”
“Suit yourself,” He sighs.
As he herds me to the kitchen, I peek back at where John seems to be reprimanding Sam. He holds a finger up to his son’s chest with a face that’s just too serious.
I ask my uncle, “Why’s he so intense?”
Bobby scratches his beard, assuming who I’m talking about. “John’s just a complicated man, but he means well.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Mara, those boys are like family,” He explains. “I got no business tellin’ you what to say at home but while you’re under my roof, you can’t go badmouthin’ their father. Do you understand me?”
“We haven’t known each other long enough for you to be talking to me like that,” I say.
He sighs. “I suppose not.”
I hear John call us over.
“We got off on the wrong foot,” He shakes my hand.
Dean says, “If you come ‘round here more often, we might get to make it up to you.”
John eyes him warily. “Now, we ought to get going.”
I open my mouth to ask, “Why don’t you bring Sam? What’s so dangerous about a nasty family dinner?” but my eyes meet Dean’s, then Sam’s, and I refrain. John doesn’t seem like the type of guy to give straightforward answers, anyway.
We step onto the porch and watch them drive away in that Chevy Impala.
I say, “I knew that care seemed too fancy for Bobby.”
“Ya got me there, kiddo,” He admits.
Sam says, “Dean calls it ‘baby.’”
“No way,” I turn to him.
He nods with a smile that makes his baby face more apparent.
Bobby heads back inside, telling us, “No funny business.”
“He’s a baby!” I laugh.
“And I’m taller than you,” Sam says.
We sit on the floorboards, seeing as there’s no chairs out here, just the birds chirping with the morning sun.
“Why do the real reason your dad don’t want you to go with them?”
“Uh,” He scrambles. “I don’t understand w–”
“Yea, you do, I’m not that dumb,” I say.
“You’re better off not knowing,” He warns me.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to hide but you’re horrible at it.” I exhale, slowing my breathe so I’m less of a hothead. “I don’t mean to start a fight or whatever. But if a girl you just met knows when you’re hiding something, you’ve got to be an open friggin’ book.”
Sam stares in surprise. “Maybe you’re just observant.”
I shake my head in disagreement.
“No, seriously, did Bobby train you?” He asks.
“What do you mean?”
He says, “Never mind.”
“You can’t just say never mind.”
“Forget what I said.”
“Why’s everyone so defensive?”
He says, “It’s not my place to tell you about it.”
“Then what is?” I raise my voice.
“I don’t know! You really want to know?” He yells back.
“Yea, I do, Sam!” I demand.
His eyes avert my gaze. “Just take a good look around Bobby’s, research any book, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You won’t believe me though. That’d be for the best.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I envision Karen, and what might have killed her, or if Bobby had anything to with it.
“There are things you might see, but it’s easier to live if you’re oblivious, okay?”
“Whatever,” I scoff.
I stand up to go back inside, and Sam rests a hand on my shoulder.
He says in a hushed voice, “Don’t tell anyone I told you this.”
“I’ll decide that for myself, after I ‘research’.”

The creek of the oven opening blends in with a rickety old fan. I hear Sam writing, his pencil gliding along paper from a notebook. We sit on a couch in the living room.
I peer over his shoulder, where there’s sketches of symbols I’ve only ever seen on some of Bobby’s books.
I ask, “What is that?”
“This?” He gestures to the notebook, to which I nod. “You should ask Bobby.”
I lean back on the couch and try to ignore the gnawing thoughts going through my head.
What if Bobby did have something to do with Karen’s disappearance? Can the same man who visited after the accident make the love of his life disappear?
I look around Sam and I in case Bobby’s in earshot. I hear something clang in the kitchen, so I hope he’s too busy to walk into the living room.
I blurt out, “Is Bobby dangerous?”
Sam’s eyes open wide in shock until his forehead starts to wrinkle, and he says, “I don’t think you know who you’re talking about.”
“Yea, I guess I don’t,” I respond, moving to examine the piles of books and the strange languages they harbor.
Most of the books have a fair coating of dust, some of them almost solid grey from dust bunnies, so I grab one of the few that seem to be free of whatever’s stick to the others. This one, I realize, not only lacks dust, but it’s spotless pages, aside from dogeared corners, give me the opinion that the book must have been cared for.
Sam continues, “You can’t just come around here as if you know him, which you don’t, and call him whatever you want.”
I refrain from looking him over the book in my hands. “You’re the one acting as if you know me, Sam.”
My hands trace across the title, Slavic Gods and How to Hunt Them, etched onto the book cover. The chapter titles, as stated in the index, are named after gods called Yarovit, Svarozhits, and other names I can’t pronounce. But the names of few, like Veles, “the god of magic, alchemy and the realm of the dead,” are circled with notes of them written in the margins.
Sam says, “That’s got to be Bobby’s only fake book in the whole house.” He walks over to me, cautiously, as if he’s worried I’ll snap at him. “Monsters, demons, I’ll believe. But pagan gods are a hard sell, even for me.”
It’s then that I finally come back to my senses. “Is this a weird joke to you, Sam? Are you some sort of occultist? Or are you just insane?”
Bobby clears his throat, standing at the entryway of the room, straight as a rod with his arms crossed. “What did I say, boy?”
“Sorry, sir.”
He points to Sam. “I’ll deal with you later.” Bobby gestures towards me. “I think it’s about time you go home, Mara. Don’t want to leave your parents thinking worse of me already.”
“Do you seriously believe all that crap?” I scoff.
“No, and none of us do,” Bobby glares at Sam. “He does this with everyone.”
The boy says, “Just let her take one of the real books.”
“Drop it.”
I say, “So what? That’s it? I go home, pretend this never happened, we never see each other again? I never even asked about Karen.”
Bobby stiffens. “I should’ve figured she’s the reason you came here.”
I gaze down at the book still my hands, and I don’t look up at him when I speak. “Look, Bobby, I didn’t visit for some family reunion or wiccan voodoo shit.” I take a breathe in. “What happened to Karen? And don’t give me any crap, or sugarcoat it. I’m here for answer.”
His chest heaves and his neck has reddened, just enough to become noticeable. “We ought to do this in private.”
I tell him, “You want the rest of the family to like you again? You want to visit for holidays? Well, you’re never getting there if you don’t talk.”
Sam says, “I know.”
“You told him of all people?” My voice raises. “He’s a kid!”
The boy mumbles, “Not that younger than you.”
“I never meant for any of this!” Bobby argues. “His father’s to blame for getting him involved in this mess. Don’t go blaming this on me, girl. I tried to fix things with your parents. But they’ll never believe me so there ain’t nothin’ I can do.”
“Stop tellin’ me I can’t handle the truth. Both of you,” I struggle to prevent my voice from cracking. “I’ve been here for half a day, and all I’ve learned is that you two must think I’m a little girl.”
I begin to walk around the room, shoving anything of mine in my backpack. When there’s nothing left, I ask, “Is there something wrong with me? What’s the problem?”
“No,” Bobby assures. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?” My eyes cloud with tears I refuse to shed, because if I cry, they’ll never take me seriously. And they hardly ever take me seriously as it is.
“You want the truth?” He says.
“Yea,” I yell. “Yea, I do.”
“Mara,” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “If you know the truth, you can’t tell your family.”
I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”
Bobby tells me about the days before Karen’s death. He recalls her behavior with clouded eyes.
“She was herself until she wasn’t,” He admits under his breathe.
Karen had attacked him with an inhuman strength, throwing him around like he weighed next to nothing. Scared to death, whatever demon that possessed her had him running around till he got his hands on a knife.
“She didn’t have to die, I know that more than anyone,” He says.
I take a moment to understand what he has just said to me. “You’re crazy.”
Sam says, “You wanted the truth. This is it.”
“Prove it.”
He looks at the old man with raised eyebrows, a silent question.
Bobby demands, “We’re not getting her more involved than she already is.”
“She’s involved by relation.” Sam says. “By being here.”
“She ain’t goin’ ona hunt if that’s what ya mean.” The man sighs, his hands on his hips. “But I suppose she could learn how to defend herself.”
I say, “She is right here.”
“Mara,” Bobby’s scratchy voice emphasizes his angry tone. “There are...creatures out there.”
I stare blankly. “What are you saying?”
“Those monsters you thought were under your bed, those might not be real,” He explains. “But that doesn’t mean monsters like them ain’t out there.”
I refuse to acknowledge what Bobby’s trying to tell me, not because I don’t believe monsters from folk tales don’t exist, but because recognizing their grotesque existence would change my view of the world. I’m not ready yet; I’m not ready to grow up.
So I tell them, “Call me when you’re not lying through your teeth,” and grab my packed bag.
“Just listen,” Sam says. “Please, Mara1” He rests his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to face towards him. “I know this sounds crazy, we sound insane, but think about it. There are cultures all over the world that tell stories about monsters, over and over again!” His brown eyes beam with excitement. “How can folklore be so similar when most of those civilizations never made contact with foreign society?”
I cross my arms. “Sam –”
“This isn’t some prank! I mean, why do you think I my dad left me here? You think Bobby wants to babysit me?”
Bobby sighs and sits on the couch, watching us argue.
“I may be dumb,” I yell, “But I’m not stupid enough to fall for whatever scam you weirdos are runnin’.”
Sam says, too quickly to understand, “MydadonlytookDeanbecausethey’rehuntingapagangod.”
Bobby’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
I speak before Bobby can say anything. “What’d you say?”
“Uh,” Sam repeats, “They’re apparently hunting a Slavic god.”
“How in the hell is she goin’ to believe that? Matter o’ fact,” Bobby says, “I wouldn’t believe ya even if ya had ‘GEEK’ written on your forehead.”
I say, “Yea.” I swipe my hand across my face. “I’m going to go now.”
Dejected, the boy mumbles, “Yea.”

Dean’s POV – Later that night – Mara’s House
He hadn’t thought much of Bobby’s niece when they first met. In his mind, Dean dismissed her because Bobby would get pissed if they hooked up and because she’s a little young for him anyway.
But now, his father is yelling till his voice blows and Dean can’t take his eyes off Mara, the girl whose tears stain her sallow face with traces of blood.
“Will you shut up for once?” Sam tells their dad. The boy sits at Mara’s side, a book in his hands.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” John says.
Bobby intervenes. “Hold on now, your son’s right about this –”
“Did I hear that right?”
“John, she’s family –”
“She’s possessed!” John gestures to the girl lying on the wooden tile. “Normally, I’d respect family. I understand that. But you’ve never mentioned this girl before, never warned my boys to stay away. How’s she family to you, Bobby, when ya hardly know her?”
Bobby says, “Of all people, ya don’t get to lecture me about family.” He shakes his head. “I raised your boys. I was there when they needed a real father.”
The boys stare at their father. Dean sees the way his jaw stiffens, although Sam brings his attention back to his book.
Bobby continues, “Walk away, John.”
To Dean’s amazement, the man listens.
He watches his father walk out, like how he left Dean to take care of Sam when he was only a child himself. The image of the back of John’s leather jacket and the sound of his boots stomping on the wooden floors brings him back to those stuffy motels.
Despite this, they have to go with him. They need to. Bobby may have taught him how to play baseball or ride a bike, but his real father is the one he needs. Who are they without family?
Dean tells his brother they need to leave.
Sam says, “Why?”
“What do ya mean ‘why’?” Dean remarks. “If Dad thinks this is for the better, then we should go with him.”
“In what world is leaving the best option?” His hands scan over the book, Slavic Gods and How to Hunt Them.
“In the world that’s reality.” Dean stands straight.
Sam barely looks at him when he says, “If you’re not going to help, then leave.”
He pauses, realizing his brother and Bobby are telling him to choose between them and John.
For his own conscience, Dean asks, “Do you need help?” He repeats, hesitantly, “I mean, can I do anything?”
Sam’s eyebrows raise in surprise, either at his refusal to leave or his out-of-character awkwardness. “Yea, uh, could you go out and get supplies.”
He tells Dean the plan: Perform an exorcism for a demon in the rare chance it’s not a god called Vele.
“How do you know it’s Vele?” Dean interrupts.
Sam says, “One, it’s Veles, not Vele. Two, who were just hunting?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, it’s just quick about. Must be pretty angry.”
“Yea, he’s pissed you tried to hunt him.” His brother sighs.
Dean changes the subject. “Uh, what do you need me for, then? Extra manpower if it fights back?”
Sam shakes his head. “While we’re handling the…normal exorcism, you’re goin’ on a supply run.”
“What?”
“An exorcism for a demon isn’t going to get rid of a pagan god, Dean,” He states as if it’s obvious, which it may be, although Dean would never admit it.
He questions, “Well, why don’t we just learn how to exorcise a god?”
“Yea, right,” Sam scoffs. “We’ll just learn how to exorcise a god. Do you understand this is a god, and not just some monster?”
“It’s got to be a demon hopin’ to trick us.” Dean exclaims, “This mornin’, you didn’t even believe they existed. Now you’re into this crap?”
Sam says, “You weren’t here when this started. You –”
“Ya weren’t with her, either! You let her go home, you let her know about everythin’, and then ya just let her run on home.”
Bobby orders, “Shut your traps, the both o’ you!” He takes a deep breath. “You got two options here: either stop your whining or let me deal with this alone. Is that understood?”
The brothers respond instinctually, trained from their years with John. “Yes, sir.”
“You know what you ought to do.” Bobby warns them, “I don’t want to hear one word out o’ y’all unless it’s an incantation.”
Sam insists, “It’s not an incantation, it’s a prayer to Morana.”
Dean hears them talk about praying to a different god to fix the problem with the one that’s making Mara ill. He keeps his opinion, which is that involving more of those things is a bad idea, to himself for the sake of speed. The faster they can get this over and done with, the better.

A/N: Thank you for reading <33 This is just the first chapter so far but if anyone has constructive critique, feel free to reach out!
Tags: @pieandflannel @multiversefanfics @firefly-graphics @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @strangergraphics @maddie0101 @inthemourninglight @kay8907 & let me know if you want to be added or removed !
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x original character#dean winchester x you#spn#series#series rewrite#spn fanfic#dividers by firefly-graphics#dividers by strangergraphics
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Sunrise on the Reaping Analysis (Spoiler Alert)
Thanks to Suzanne Collins we finally have the backstory to our favorite Hunger Games mentor in the newly released prequel novel, Sunrise on the Reaping, not to mention additional trauma to add to our psyches. The brash, tortured and alcohol-dependent former survivor of The 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, faces insurmountable odds when he is “reaped” into the 2nd quarter quell. As per usual I warn there are spoilers ahead and if you have yet to read the novel I advise you to leave this post and don’t come back until you have. With that...let’s get started.

Haymitch Abernathy has long been one of my favorite characters from The Hunger Games series, partially due to the enigma of his personal tragedy. Previously, we only had a summarized version of his televised Games to go off of when, in preparation for their own, Katniss and Peeta watched the clips to gain knowledge on how a quarter quell proceeds. We also got a tidbit of information out of Haymitch when he mentions the Capital executing his family and girlfriend. Other than that all we know about Haymitch and his personal traumas, is he drinks a lot (like a lot), he sleeps with a knife, and he appears to have no one he loves or cares for until Peeta and Katniss come along.

In true Suzanne Collins fashion, we soon discovered Haymitch’s story was far more twisted and tragic than we first thought. Not only was Haymitch selected by a chance of poor luck in a botched reaping, but the televised Games, in which Katniss and Peeta observed Haymitch survive the 2nd quarter quell, was more or less a steaming, hot pot of bullshit.
Sunrise on the Reaping also gives us some information on the Covey clan and what their status is at this point in the timeline as well as some background info on Katniss’ parents. We learn that Maude Ivory has passed away and that the Covey’s made a gravesite for their members deep in the woods. It’s unclear how Maude Ivory died and it is still unclear if Lucy Gray is actually confirmed dead (did the Covey find her body or did they just assume she passed over time?), though I like to think her fate is still a mystery in lieu of the poem. Personally, I like the idea of Lucy Gray being a ghostly presence haunting Snow and the Capital for their crimes and not knowing her fate gives her that mysterious, ethereal power.

Katniss’ parents are finally named, Burdock and Astrid, as well as confirmed to be Covey (at least Burdock is), although we still do not know through whom. My guess is still Maude Ivory, but I am not as positive as I once was. Regardless, it was great seeing a bit of Katniss’ history and where she comes from. Despite Burdock only ever being mentioned in the original series (and never by name), his absence in Katniss’ life, and the impact his death had on her and her family, allows him to feel very much like a character who once lived and breathed, so it was nice to see him living and breathing.
Lenore Dove is also introduced as a new member of the Covey clan, and Haymitch’s lost love, alongside his hardworking mother who reminds me of Hazel Hawthorne (Gale’s mother) and his younger brother Sid. Their tragic demise is what ultimately drives Haymitch deep into the bottom of a liquor bottle. This loss, coupled with the trauma of the Hunger Games and the subsequent isolation from the citizens of District 12, lead us to the Haymitch we know and love. And don’t forget, his pain multiplied each year as he mentored tribute after tribute for the next 23 years, only to have to return to his district each time in the company of children’s coffins.

Another character, while not necessarily new but expounded upon, is that of Maysilee Donner. She just may be the breakout star of the novel. This fan favorite showed us a different style of rebellion than we have seen before. With her lovely outfits, her many jewels, and her refusal to eat with her hands, Maysilee refuses to allow herself to act like the beast or animal the Capital treats her as. Throughout her stay in the Capital and her dwindling days in the arena she held onto her humanity with both hands and told anyone who tried to take it from her to kindly, f**k off. This is not to say that she wasn’t lethal or that she went into the Games utterly prepared to die. But rather she simply said that if she must die, she would do it with dignity. She had a kind of resilience and authenticity to her that could be biting at times yet a gentleness and selflessness in the way she handled the tokens of her fellow tributes that plainly showed how important holding onto your identity was to her. Like Peeta, she wasn’t going to play the game on anyone’s terms but her own, and she wanted to hold on to who she was.
Of the characters introduced and re-introduced in this novel, Plutarch Heavensbee continues to be the most mysterious character in my opinion. I would actually be highly interested in seeing another prequel novel centered around Plutarch. There is so much we don’t know about him. How and why did he become disillusioned with the Capital? How did he come to know of District 13’s survival? When did he become a Gamemaker? In what ways since Haymitch’s games (and perhaps before) has he attempted to aid the rebellion? How prominent are the anti-Capital citizens within the Capital walls? Seriously, there is so much we could learn from a novel centered around Plutarch that could amplify the theme of building up to the revolution in the original series. If Katniss was the fire that was catching, Haymitch the flint striker that helped ignite it, and Lucy Gray the song that inspired the flame, then Plutarch was the one who aired it across live television until the entire nation caught fire.

One thing the prequel novels have done best is show the audience how flammable the nation was long before Katniss’ birth. The districts have sparked before and even those in the Capital have attempted to fan the flames, but either the spark doesn’t quite catch or the fanning was too much for too little. Rebellions build over time, and oftentimes they need a combination of strategy and sheer luck.
Therefore, it makes sense that when Katniss comes along not only does she have an unprecedented amount of good luck, but those who’ve been in the shadows trying to build the rebellion have perfected their strategies over time. Fate or not, Katniss could never have succeeded if not for the seeds that were planted from the inception of the Games. These stories eerily parallel the events of WWI and WWII. With a large part of the events leading to the beginning of the second world war having been planted at the end of the first. And the murder of innocent tributes in the Games parallels the genocide of innocent people due to a corrupt dictator with lofty and evil ideas about race and class and a civilization that grows silent or even buys into the propaganda.
This is why The Hunger Games series is not only so relevant to our society today but also blatantly terrifying as it is a reflection of our history. People often comment on how our society isn’t too far from being a civilization capable of creating such an atrocious event, but our history already proves we are more than capable of it. The Holocaust, slavery, the Roman gladiator sports. Our world has a terrible inclination to allow tyrants to rise while turning a blind eye to the oppression of the backbones they build their civilization on.
On the flip side, these books also show that our world can be saved by the greatest attributes humanity possesses. Compassion, love, courage, mercy, sacrifice. When people are subjected to horrifying injustices it is easy to want to cower or hide. It’s simpler to hate or choose vengeance or seek survival for yourself and the ones you love. Especially when you lose time and time again. Haymitch’s story is an example of this.

Initially, he is very much like Katniss and even Peeta. He shares Katniss’ spark, her protectiveness of the weak, and an independence striving to break free from the bondage of the Capital. He is not easily controlled and he wants to hold the Capital accountable for the deaths of his fellow tributes. In addition to these attributes, Haymitch is also shrewd and calculating like Peeta, with an ability to empathize with those who are different from him, and a talent for manipulating words or actions with ease to suit a specific purpose. It’s a beautiful way of showing that by saving Katniss and Peeta in a way Haymitch was saving himself, because he didn’t just lose his girlfriend and family, he lost who he was only to find it again in these two tributes. Haymitch’s story arc in this novel serves as a cautionary tale for Katniss, but his arc in the The Hunger Games trilogy is his redemption.
If you read this far you are absolute aces! Feel free to comment or share your thoughts. I love hearing others POV on these stories, especially as my circle of friends are lame and aren't into this series. 😑 Hope you enjoyed, thank you!
#the hunger games#haymitch abernathy#maysilee donner#lenore dove#lucy gray baird#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#coriolanus snow#plutarch heavensbee#burdock everdeen#gale hawthorne#sunrise on the reaping#catching fire#mockingjay#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#suzanne collins
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Five Fics Friday: August 23/24
Happy Friday everyone!! Finally going on my 2 week holidays, so I'm glad I have some great fics I can read if I get bored!! Check out what's on my radar this week! Enjoy!!
RECENT MFLs
Serenity After the Turmoil (Part 2) by jawnscoffee (G, 2,467 w., 1 Ch. || Dreams, Nightmares, Sherlock's Violin) – John had always been someone with a vivid imagination - especially when it came to dreams. Nightmares, to be precise. This causes him a lot of trouble, especially after returning from the war. The only thing that calms him down is when Sherlock plays his violin. When John wakes up one night from another nightmare, he hears Sherlock playing the violin and decides to keep him company. Maybe he can't sleep either. Or maybe he's just playing the violin for John...
You Don't Live Here Anymore by elwinglyre (E, 3,104+ w., 1/5 Ch. || WiP || S4 Fix It, Angst, Bees, First Time, Third Person Alternating POV) – The lyrics of a song John introduced to Sherlock, haunts him. Sherlock leaves 221b because he can’t bring himself to live there alone without John. Mary is dead, and John still blames Sherlock. It takes a small tragedy to shake John into action. Will he come on home?
A Thrill Failed To Deliver by J_Baillier (E, 9,897+ w., 3/25 Ch. || WiP || Pre-TRF Divergence, Angst, Medical Hurt/Comfort, Serious Illnesses, POV John, Brain Cancer/Tumour, Medical Conditions, Romance, Slow Burn, Doctor John, Miscommunication, Meddling Mycroft, Everyone is a Mess, Harry Watson, Friends to Lovers, Strooppy Sherlock, John's Identity Crisis, Clueless Idiots in Love, Vulnerable Sherlock, Mental Breakdown, Sherlock Whump, Medical Realism) – When The Work is replaced with chemotherapy and restaurant dinners with radiation treatment, will a new, devastating normal bring John and Sherlock closer, or drive them apart — as Sherlock seems convinced it will?
Holy Wine by Silvergirl (E, 36,699 w., 13 Ch. || Sherlock/OMC & Johnlock || TEH Divergence, Addiction, Alcoholism, POV Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Sex Replacing Getting High, Angst with Happy Ending) – After Sherlock fails to amaze and delight John at the Landmark, he learns that John’s cut contacts and left London. Sherlock has to start his life over, without the man he gave up everything to save. Sherlock's version of the events of A Case of You. Part 2 of A Case of You
GOOD OMENS
how do we turn on the light? by moonyinpisces (M, 229,988+ w., 18/22 Ch. || WiP || Post-S2, Romance, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending, Light Humour, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, The Second Coming, Christianity, Drug Use, Book of Life, Death Threats, Suicidal Thoughts, Sex in the Bentley, Duke of Hell Crowley, Character Death) – Aziraphale ascends to the highest level of the Archangels. And he remembers—well. It’s not important what he remembers.
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I’m on a 60+ minute bus ride, so here’s a long ramble on my feelings about the Dwarf in the flask as a character and me as a person! (822 words).
Warnings for dehumanisation/objectification, apathy and general cynicism.
When I first watched through FMA:B, I (like a lot of people I think) thought Hohenheim and Father were the same person, I also accidentally skipped the Xerxes episode entirely on my first watch through. Despite that, I still immediately saw myself in the character of Father, after watching the Xerxes episode and reading some fan theories and essays about the character, even more so.
I find that for antagonistic characters to really appeal to me I have to be able to still envision them getting better despite the state their story ended it. Father’s character literally ticked all my boxes: non-human trying to be human, severe repression, a questionable relationship with a character from his past and I could absolutely imagine him getting better despite his significantly flawed ways of thinking.
From the start we see that Father, in this case Homunculus, is a cynic. A cynic because the humans that brought him to ‘life’ all treated him as less than, as an object to be used for knowledge, a creature that served a means to an end and not much else. Homunculus’ cynicism serves him a purpose, it keeps him at an emotional distance from what’s hurting him, until someone comes along and completely shatters that preconceived notion of humans. Slave 23. The boy’s unrelenting generosity and kindness despite being treated as less than human by quite literally everyone, a virtue among vices, Homunculus couldn’t loop him in with everything he believed about humans. So, Van Hohenheim became his exception and by extension his only friend. Homunculus had extensive theoretical knowledge, but in practice he knew nothing. He had no emotional intelligence, making him a nuisance and occasionally irritatingly tone deaf. He’d make mistakes that he had no idea of and no one is bothering to tell him what he’s saying wrong, driving his cynical nature even deeper into the need for connection. Homunculus sacrificed all of Xerxes for selfishly selfless reason (if that makes any sense), he thought gifting Hohenheim what he saw as the ultimate gift would be a perfect sign of admiration and respect. Alas, he’s left alone. Angry, confused and probably unbelievably lonely, Father drags himself in the opposite direction. If even the one person he managed to care for was going to leave him in the dust, he might as well not try. Ever again. His grief, yearning and ego start to get into his way of achieving perfection; a human being without all those icky, difficult and miserable emotions. But even after ridding himself of all vices, completely apathetic, because without vices there’s also no virtues. To achieve his desire for perfection, Father essentially made himself nothing more than a statue. Then in the finale, he’s experiencing the emotions he tried so hard to rid himself of because of Hohenheim’s confrontation. Anger, grief, envy, desire, pride, and as if that wasn’t already bad enough to him, Hohenheim rubs salt in the wound by reminding him of the deep seated loneliness he caused himself. In the end, nothing mattered, his conquest for freedom and knowledge is cut off by the Truth. He started alone and he will end alone if he doesn’t learn from his mistakes.
I, unfortunately, can relate immensely to his character. Maybe it’s being autistic and ADHD, but I was taught from a young age that my intelligence and ability to perform tasks were all that I was good for, people rarely treated me with anymore decency than one would treat a dog that knew a few tricks. Resentment and cynicism come naturally at that point. I was generally unpleasant to be around because I couldn’t imagine that people could be kind or genuine, but after four years of psychotherapy… I’m still a cynic, but I’m a cynic that’s learnt that I can’t be an asshole because I think others will be assholes to me. I have learnt to wait and observe. I had to learn how to ‘Human’ from scratch much like Homunculus did, although I definitely did it better lmao. His relationship with Hohenheim reminded me of my own journey of trying to be a better person, but shutting down at every reminder that people can be absolute wankers, it’s a fucking excruciating and draining process to force yourself through. It takes a lot of reflection and reasoning.
Do I think Father would’ve been okay if he got four year of psychotherapy? No, probably not, but I do think that Father’s character motivations, deeply rooted flaws and the result of those things in combination without facing any grave consequences for his actions are very, very realistic. I love that dork. He’s so me for real and some times that bites me in the ass.
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Interview: Jared Padalecki on Walker Season 4, The Show’s Future & More
KSITETV’S CRAIG BYRNE: What can you tease about The Jackal, particularly in relation to his history with certain characters?
JARED PADALECKI: The Jackal is a serial killer who haunted then-Ranger James and Ranger Walker five years prior when they were partners, and before Ranger James became Captain James. The Jackal, and his choice of kills and the victims he left behind, really tortured and tormented James and he took it personally. We were never able to solve it, and the Jackal;s case went cold, and we have kind of assumed he had died or stopped or something. And then, as we found out during James’s wedding of all times, someone with a similar M.O. to the Jackal surfaced, and because of how dark it sent James five years prior, Trey and Walker decide to look into it low-key with Detective Luna from Corpus Christi, who Walker and James had worked with back in the day.
We find out in Season 4 that sure enough, the Jackal is back, And so, Walker finds himself stuck in a position. We’ve learned in the first three seasons that keeping secrets among Rangers is not a great idea, but Walker thinks he’s doing what’s best for James. He doesn’t want to him spiraling. James just went on his honeymoon, and he’s married, and he’s going well. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe this is a coincidence. But we soon seem to settle that it is the original Jackal, and the Jackal is back. Walker takes it on himself to save James from that same torment that he went through five years ago., but the question is how much can Walker take on on James’ behalf, without falling prey to the same feelings himself?
Twitter made me ask you this: Is there any chance that The Jacckal might be played by an actor that you’ve referred to as “Jackles” before?
[LAUGHS] No. All But that’s a great question!
The readers of KSiteTV loved Walker Independence, and it’s great that hopefully we’ll be seeing more of Justin Johnson Cortez as Detective Luna. Is there any chance we might see more people from the show in new roles in the present day, or maybe another Hoyt flashback?
JARED: Let’s say yes. We will be seeing some of our our Windy family. We loved the show as well.
And is there any chance we’ll see those classic characters again?
The answer, again, is yes.
Jensen [Ackles] and I used to have something funny during Supernatural. We did several seasons with 23 episodes, and we likened it to sports analogies. We’d be like “you know, if you’re going to shoot 23 three pointers during a game, you’re not going to make ’em all. If you’re gonna drive the lane 23 times, or go to bat 23 times, then you’re gonna put some air balls. You’re gonna strike out sometimes. But with 13 episodes, they’re all knockouts. They’re all home runs.
We didn’t waste any time this year [on Walker]. We have 13 episodes to make an amazing season of television. I’m on set right now shooting the finale, and I can say with confidence that this is our strongest season.
Are you feeling good about the possibility of a fifth season?
I am. I don’t know… I mean, even during Supernatural’s last season, something can always happen. There can be a strike. There can be COVID. There can be a merger. There can be something.
My career for the last 25 years has been based around not really knowing what’s going to happen. You know, “is Gilmore Girls gonna go? Am I going to get an option to do it again? Oh, now it’s CW instead of Warner Brothers. Oh, now we have a new showrunner. Oh, now we have another showrunner! Now we’re changing nights. Now there’s COVID. Now there’s a strike.” [Last year’s strike] was the second strike I had been through in my career. So, all I can speak to is the quality of work we’re putting out, and there’s nothing I could change.
I will say that I have no reason to think that we we will not carry on. I intend to do the show for another 10 years, so hopefully the powers that be feel the same way. I know our cast and crew all hope for the same. We’re willing and able. Our writers are incredible, with the stories they come up with and the speed with which they can come up with great storylines and great arcs for each and every character… and our crew that makes it… if I was a network, then I would want this show to go as long as everybody who’s making the show would go.
I couldn’t be more proud of the work that we’re putting out there. I think we kind of stand alone, as far as new scripted hour-longs out there. We’re a great combination of heart and action, and trying to mimic reality as best as possible, which I think is needed and necessary. I’ve certainly heard from fans on the street and via social media and whatnot, how much they appreciate it and enjoy it. I’m very optimistic.
How are things with Cordell and Geri as we get into Season 4?
They’ve had five months together since Larry and Kelly’s wedding, snd things have been going well. Things have kind of cooled off; the Jackal’s trail went cold, and so maybe it was not a big deal. They’ve kind of been enjoying the summer with August and Stella and Bonham and Abeline, and they’ve had some time together.
There’s been work for Cordell and for Geri, obviously, but they’re on the same page. They’re living together, and they’re enjoying each other’s company, and they found a place.
Obviously, they both went through some hardships in their prior relationships. Luckily, I think with a lot of great relationships, when they become romantic, they start as friendships. Because Geri and Cordell started as a platonic relationship for many years, they’ve seen each other as friends, and they kind of know who each other’s hearts are. I think they’re enjoying that time and chance to breathe together, and just be with each other.
Is it hard for Cordell that Stella and August are both growing up, with Stella already off to school and August approaching senior year?
It’s very, very hard, and I think you’re more prescient than maybe you even realize; we kind get into that in Episode 2, and as the season goes on, of what it’s like to be to be preparing to be an empty nester, especially without your spouse. So we certainly do see that, and again, going back to what I said earlier about Walker’s storylines imitating life as best as we can, we certainly do see Walker going through that very real [situation].
At work, he is this big Texas Ranger who gets to go in and save the day and all as well, and then at home, he wants to be a Dad, but the clock is ticking. One of his kids is already gone, and the second is a senior in high school, and presumably soon to be spreading his wings. So what does that look like and feel like for this big tough dude?
Will we get to see Walker’s reaction to the situation that Stella got into at the end of last season?
Oh, yeah. And that storyline doesn’t stop, because it’s not all over. Obviously, months have passed and there have been investigations and there is conclusion of sorts, but as with most things in life, it brings about a whole new set of problems that we will deal with through the entire season.
Why should people check out the season premiere on Wednesday night?
I think a lot of us, myself included, have been dying to see what the whole Walker clan is up to. Not with the Walker clan with with the last name Walker. And we get a great catch up with a friend we haven’t talked to in a while. We have action. We have comedy, we have drama… but also, it feels like a dear friend that I haven’t caught up with in way too long, and I get all the ins and outs of what’s been going on their lives over the last period of time
ksite
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Closed starter: Aristotle ( @hearthandhallows ) Location: Ocean and Forest's home
Was this a bad idea? That was something Ocean kept asking himself as he stood in the front yard, waiting for Aris to arrive. He had told his boyfriend - that was something Ocean was still getting used to, and just the thought of the word made him smile - what he wanted to do, and while the thought scared him a little bit, Ocean thought it was time. He was 23 years old, so it was time. That wasn't the part that Ocean was wondering if it was a bad idea. No, the part that Ocean was questioning was sitting in the driveway next to him. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but if Ocean was going to learn to drive, he was going to need a car. So when he'd seen a nice-looking car parked in someone's yard on the way home from work with a for sale sign, Ocean had talked to the owner, and after coming back the next day, he was the proud owner of a blue Ford Taurus. What Ocean had thought was true, that he would need a car if he was going to start driving, he wondered if it was stupid to buy a car before he even knew how to drive.
Of course it's stupid, the voices whispered. Everything you do is stupid. But as soon as he thought these things, Ocean forced the voices to be quiet. Ever since he'd met Aris, Ocean had been trying not to think so poorly of himself. If a man as incredible as Aristotle Elio McIntyre could care for him the way he did, could value him, could see so much worth in him, then Ocean needed to try and do the same. After all, he trusted Aris, so he should trust him in this. Even so, those voices lingered, hissing in his ears, even if Ocean couldn't quite make out their treacherous words. Before he could fall too deeply into his self-hate, Ocean saw his boyfriend's truck approaching. There was something so sexy about Aris driving a truck, something that made Ocean's skin feel hot and made his heart pound. Maybe one day he'd find something, but right now, there was nothing that Ocean didn't like about his boyfriend.
"Hi," Ocean said simply when Aris climbed out of the truck, smiling his face off; it was like the sun was threatening to burst right out of him. That was just how much joy Aris brought him. Walking toward his boyfriend, Ocean wrapped his arms around him, resting his head against his shoulder. "I missed you," he said, though he knew it was silly; it hadn't been that long since they'd seen each other. "Sorry," Ocean said, "I don't want to be clingy," though he didn't pull out of the hug at first. Finally though, he did pull back and gestured to the Taurus. "I uh...sort of bought a car," he explained. Since he'd started making money from his pottery at the markets and then jobs once he left the commune, Ocean had spent very little of it, mostly just paying what Forest would accept for him living there and for food and things. So now...well, buying this car had barely put a dent in his substantial savings. Thinking about it that way made it feel less foolish, but Ocean still waited to see what Aris had to say, one arm around his boyfriend.
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Sometime I think about totk taking place after the Linked Universe adventure finishes.
Wild is 17 in LU. I don’t know if it’s official cannon but most works I’ve read have Wild join the chain around two weeks after his official quest ends.
So with that in mind Wild is with the chain at 17.
Totk takes place about 6 years after Botw. Making Wild and Flora around 23.
So let’s say Wild went on his adventure with the chain. Who knows how long it takes 1 year? Three years? Who knows but they all have to part ways when it’s over. Maybe the mailman can run in between timelines still but they can’t.
Wild’s back in his era helping Flora rebuild. It’s going well and he’s as happy as he can be with out his family.
But then TOTK happens. The story goes as it does and it ends with Flora returned to her Hylian form.
Flora who has traveled to the distance past once. Flora who had 10,000 years + as a dragon to have her powers grow. Flora with a sacred stone of time.
Maybe Flora has she watched over all the prior eras and saw some of the Chain and their adventures. Maybe she saw Lullaby and Time’s adventures with the Ocarina. Or maybe once she’s back she works really hard to master her time powers.
Either way she decides to surprise her knight with a trip. A trip through time.
Flora was always a little jealous that Wild got to meet and learn from other hero’s it’s her turn to meet other Zelda’s. She rationalizes the trip to Impa as an opportunity to learn how best to help her kingdom from the Zelda’s who came before. And if Wild gets to reunite with his family well that’s a bonus. (In reality this is the only reason they are going)
What have the others been up to during their time apart?
Have Sky and Sun gotten married?
Do Time and Malon have kids yet?
Has Twilight found the pieces of the mirror or has he moved on with his life?
What is a grown up Wind like? Has he established New Hyrule yet with Tetra?
Does Four still travel or has he settled down and running his own blacksmith shop? What of Shadow?
Has Hyrule found peace or is he still being hunted?
Has Legend finally moved on from Marin (maybe with a certain merchant?) is he still adventuring or has he been able to let go and relax?
What is Warriors life like with no war? How will Cia handle multiple Links and Zeldas traveling through time?
It’s so fun to think about. You can make it super slice of life where Flora is hang out with the other Zelda’s while the Links reunite. Or you can add a driving problem and plot.
You can make it so only Wild and Flora can move through time. But where’s the fun in that. Obviously not all the Zelda’s can travel but you can bet Sun and Tetra are all over this adventure.
I personally think Flora and Wild’s first stop is the period of Twilight to pick up their wolf.
What do you guys think.
#linked universe#lu twilight#lu four#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu sky#lu time#lu warriors#lu wild#lu wind#lu flora#lu lullaby#lu tetra#lu sun#post totk#Flora and Wild’s time adventure
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The poll ended. And we have “Accidental Marriage (Las Vegas ‘23 version)” as the winner!
While I write it. Here you have the second part of the short writing ideas that didn’t make it into the top 10 ideas.
Second Poll’s Last 4 Ideas
1. Sad One Night Stand
His eyes finally move away from the screen when he heard screams from his best friend and former teammate at McLaren. Lando was walking back from the medical area with a look that could kill as he approached Zak, Andrea and the rest of the team with anger. His clear eyes indicated the rage in his being.
-You knew it! You knew that the car had a malfunction and yet they let him drive like nothing happened! Oscar could die because you cared more about a fucking trophy than people's lives!
That statement was enough to break the heart of the Spaniard man. Although the Australian was not a saint of his devotion, he had been one of the few people who had written to him wishing he would find a team that would appreciate his ability when Ferrari announced the switch with Hamilton. Because he knew what it was to give your blood, sweat and tears to a team while said team was not interested in you at all.
Oscar had been one of the few people who had sent him a detail when he was still recovering from his operation. And he had gone to his hotel room with unhealthy food, but allowed on his diet, to celebrate his victory in Australia.
Both had learned to have a different relationship to any other in the Paddock, because the youngest was able to leave the problems of the track on it. Like the one in Miami, where he had forced Carlos to do the same after their talk at Monaco’s podium. From there, they had learned to get along, or at least better than before, their words in Hungary last year reflected that.
But here he was now. Listening to Sargeant's drowning cries and Lando's claims. Everything was the same as with Jules. They were about to lose a driver again because of the decision of someone else who was playing their lives with their hands on the wheel.
That was his third signal for disaster.
How terrible that he realized so late what that meant. How awful it was to hear that the team who was supposed to protect the pilot had left him to his fate with a car they knew would fail, all for a worthless trophy.
But above all, how tragic for the new Mercedes driver to realize his feelings for the young McLaren pilot just after receiving the news of his death.
Life never really favored Carlos Sainz Jr.
2. Fluff Wedding
-You want to Marry Carlos?
-Yes. I know our relationship is still young. But I want to be with him for the rest of our lives.
Oscar kept his eyes moving from Reyes to Senior. He was nervous, terrified even, but he knew what he wanted and that was to marry Carlos, his Carlos. So, he was going to give everything for his parents’ approval.
Reyes smiled happily after hearing him confess his love for her son, but Senior was still looking at him. Like he wanted to find something to deny the request he was hearing.
But the Australian knew he won’t find anything outside love. Because that was all he has for Carlos. Pure love.
-What are your plans to marry our son?
Oscar smiled. That might be the easiest part of all the reunion, because he knew perfectly well what he wants.
He wants a forever with Carlos Sainz Jr.
3. Driver Carlos x Fem! Singer Oscar
Carlos kept his eyes on the girl in the Williams’ garage. He had listened to Charles and Lando fanboying over meeting her again. They were into her concert recently and they couldn’t stop talking about it.
He knew, he was there. Specially when someone insulted her music and she just acted like she didn’t hear a thing while they were in the meet and greet. Logan was ready to jump against anyone, but she looked like she didn’t care at all.
-They will hate me no matter what.
Carlos wishes he had said something different in that moment, but he was an idiot and had to open his mouth to make the pretty girl mad.
-They kind of have a point.
The Spaniard managed to get the girl to look at him. With hidden fury, of course, but at least her eyes were on him.
4. Multiple Past Lives
He will survive. He has done it until now. Oscar has been working hard to keep him alive. The Australian even promise his father that this time was going to be different. That he was going to save his life.
They are no longer Leonardo and Alessandro, with one of them having a car accident. They are no longer Nikolay and Konstantin, with one of them as a Russian soldier about to die. They are no longer Bastian and Étienne, with one of them as kids about to die at the hands of a Serial Killer. They are no longer meeting for a second and watching one of them die in the next one.
Oscar has met Carlos through all of his past lives, even if they don’t cross paths, Oscar always knows Carlos is there somewhere, even if he doesn’t see him, he can feel it.
Oscar and Carlos were not lovers, were not even friends. They only met each other once per lifetime, and then, Oscar had to wait a couple of seconds before Carlos died in a specific way while Oscar is there, not able to do anything.
Some people would call them soulmates but Oscar doesn’t think that term sticks right with them, he thinks that they’re just two guys who happen to bump into each other’s lives forever, but that doesn’t mean they’re soulmates.
Because what kind of God would make Oscar know and met his soulmate before they die in front of him with him unable to do anything?
#carcar#carloscar#oscarlos#5581#oscar piastri#carlos sainz#formula 1 rpf#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#ignore my terrible english
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Dirty Windows | 26
Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU
//
Fic Summary:
Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.
Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.
//
[ 1 ] <- [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ] [ 24 ] [ 25 ] - [ 27 ]
//
No matter how busy Nora kept herself, time seemed to be at a standstill. With Arlen’s help, the water purifier was finished, tested, and tweaked to perfection. The machine, though a bit noisy, worked like a dream. After their little project was deemed a success, they worked to log a finalized list of the materials and instructions into the Pip-Boy. It felt like hours of work. Nora was sure that half a day had passed – the clock mockingly informed her that she had only burned a couple of hours.
Yippee.
With a muttered thanks to Arlen, she migrated to the garden to pull weeds and harvest produce. Keeping busy was the only way she was going to get through the day. Keeping her body moving kept some of the anxious jitters away, and occupying her mind became a necessity.
If she wasn’t deliberately steering her thoughts, they took a turn for the worst. They would immediately veer towards John, and her throat would feel tight, and she would imagine all of the potentially awful outcomes... So Nora kept herself occupied by reviewing ancient, outdated, study material. The Information that had been engraved into her brain for all eternity was now totally useless, but there was comfort in the familiarity so long as she could stay focused.
Unfortunately, what would start as a steady flow of law overviews and associated court cases would take a dark, dark turn the very moment it was able. Tort law to criminal law to Good Samaritan law to — John. John getting hurt. John ending up dead. Or worse.
Talking helped keep things on track. So she took to talking to herself. Well, grumbling mostly. And as crazy as it made her look, she quite simply did not care. The ghouls at the Slog had witnessed her mutterings frequently enough.
As soon as the weeds in the garden were eradicated, MacCready decided it was time to take her out for a bit of a breather. The man approached her slowly, hesitantly, eyebrows a little scrunched under his hat. Without so much as a word of warning, he took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet. And he didn’t let go as he announced that they were taking a walk. It was only when Nora started to resist — “Hold on, let me get my gun.” — when he pulled her along with a little more force and authority.
“Why don’t you have it on you? Know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll protect you, okay? Now let’s get the ffff-heck out of here for a bit. You’re driving me crazy with all your grumbling.”
With a little more complaining, Nora fell into step and followed his lead. The exercise immediately helped. Expending a little bit of the pent up energy soothed the harsher edges of her nerves. Committing her attention to surveying their surroundings quieted her thoughts.
MacCready was a thorough scout as he walked. While he kept the conversation running he would stop to survey their surroundings, occasionally peering down his scope of his rifle. It was done with practiced ease. When a threat presented itself, he was all business. The chatter stopped, and he took aim. On more than one occasion, he suddenly crouched down and passed Nora the rifle. With his presence at her side, his voice a gentle whisper, he walked her through taking aim, controlling her breath, and eventually taking the shot.
For being such a punk, he was a surprisingly good teacher. He was patient, but also a bit mouthy when she messed up. Nora accepted the criticism with amused silence, and did her best to learn and do better.
“He’ll be fine, ya know,” MacCready said as he slowed to a stop. They had drifted out of the wooded landscape and out towards the remnants of a roadway. He took a seat on top of the hood of the skeletal remains of a car. With his rifle draped over his lap, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one from the pack with his lips, then shook out one for her.
“No thanks,” Nora murmured, taking a seat beside him. “I don’t smoke.”
“Heh, give it time. This place will drive you to do more than just start smoking.” They sat in silence, as he lit up his cigarette and enjoyed the first few puffs. When Nora shifted back along the hood and started sifting through the contents of his rucksack, he said nothing but allowed her to pull the straps from his arms. A mostly empty bottle of water was pulled free. She took a quick drink before passing it to him.
“I meant what I said, Nor. Hancock knows what he’s doing. He’ll be fine.” He took the bottle and finished the contents with a hearty gulp.
Nora sighed, “I just wish he had someone with him.”
“He would usually take someone with him for this sort of thing, but for this Cecil guy? Sh—tuff is personal.”
“Personal might be a strong word for it.”
MacCready sighed smoke. Nora waved it away, frowning at the ground as he glanced her way. “Someone in your little settlement was selling information on you, ya know. That’s why I’m up in your neck of the woods.”
“Selling information…”
MacCready, glanced at her, adjusting his hat to keep the gradually setting sun out of his eyes, “Yep.”
She turned to face him, eyebrows knitting together. Someone sold information on her, selling it to – who? Who would care? Of course she already knew the answer. It was the reason why those two scumbags at the drive-in seemed to know about her.
She’s fuckin’ crazy, the creep had said. They didn’t say she was crazy.
The anxious tension that gathered in her shoulders was nothing compared with the rage that made her eyes sting. She blinked hard once, twice, to push the feeling away.
“Oh.” She had assumed that at worst there had been rumors that someone had crawled out of an otherwise dead vault. “I… Why?” Why sell information? Why sell information about her?
“People buy and sell people out here all the time. There are folks out here who would pay good caps to get their hands on someone fresh from a vault,” MacCready replied.
Nora’s jaw worked. People selling people. People selling information about people. For slavery; for sex. Industries, products, as old as time, withstanding the test of time. And nukes. Because why wouldn’t they.
He nudged his shoulder against hers, jostling her out of her darkening thoughts. “Hey, I took care of it. Nothing to worry about, okay? And lucky you, you got a soulmate who is taking care of the rest.”
Nora suddenly wanted more than just a cigarette. She wanted a drink. She wanted to scream. “I trusted those people,” she said, her voice weak.
“Gotta be careful who you trust, Nor,” he said, swaying back into her shoulder, then leaning away, only to come swaying right back to nudge into her. She cast him a side-long glance just as he leaned into her again. “You can trust me, though. I’m good people.”
“Uh huh.”
“And not all of them were bad.”
Nora tried to avoid the next collision from his shoulder, but he became rather deliberate with his assault. When she leaned to avoid him, he leaned further in pursuit. And when Nora finally gave in, and went to shove her shoulder into his, he veered away, dodging her with ease. Nora huffed and was just about to try again when she noticed that he had redirected some of those darkening thoughts, and building anger with playful antics. And he’d done it with total ease. What a brat, she thought fondly.
“Was it Marcy?”
He guffawed, “Ya know, it’s funny you say that. Lady is meaner than a pissed off rattlesnake, but the second I started asking her about you she told me to fuck —frick, frick — off.”
“She did not.”
“Oh yes she did.”
“Huh. Guess I need to apologize,” Nora grumbled. She let silence hang between them before continuing. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind tagging around for a couple of weeks, would you?” she asked as she slipped from the hood of the car and to her feet. “I was going to head back to Sanctuary, make them a water purifier. I have to get the materials for another one, though, and—“
“Sure.”
She turned to face him, brows raised in surprise. “Really?”
“Well you're going to pay me, right?"
RJ asking for payment almost hurt. Whether it was because he was John’s guy, or because she had thought that they had become fast friends, she had assumed that he would have just agreed to help. Would she even be able to afford a mercenary? What kind of price did something like that run for?
"Nor, I'm kidding. Hancock is paying me." He slid from the car, gripping the butt of the rifle as he propped the length against his shoulder. She took his rucksack to split the burden, lacing her arms through the straps. "That didn't sound much better," he said distantly. "He's paying me because he understands that I have to make a living. We’re buds, but a man’s gotta eat.”
That was fair. Nora could accept that. She trusted John, she wanted to believe that he wouldn't send some easily-bought mercenary to watch over her, and MacCready seemed earnest.
“Maybe think twice before telling me I can’t play games on the Pip-Boy, though.”
Nora rolled her eyes as hard as she could for the sake of dramatics, pressing her palm into his chest and giving him a shove. “You’re such a brat.”
-
Nora couldn’t sleep.
Anticipation built every hour that passed. It grew later, and later, and Nora found herself waiting for that dreadful, familiar, gut-wrenching pain to render her soul to shreds. Every second, every minute, every hour was bringing her closer and closer to the inevitable. The universe would chew her up, and spit her back out, and she’d be left broken and in pieces but forced to keep going.
The unrest was so terrible that Nora found herself pacing the perimeter of the tarberry pool. It was approaching three in the morning when she felt John’s end of the bond tentatively brush against her senses. A beat later and she was groaning, as she crumbled to the ground. Pain erupted along her ribs, her arm, her whole chest. It was hard to breathe, hard to think – she struggled to block out the pain.
Her vision swam, as she managed to warble, “J-John?”
"Hey, honey," came the exhausted whisper. "Just... wanted t'see if you were a...wake..."
"What happened?" She reached for him, trying to sift through her own wavering vision of the Slog’s pool, and the drifting vision of too bright lights and a far away ceiling. He was on his back, he was– in so much pain–
"Everything is... fine. Got my shit rocked though. Fucking asshole witha baseball bat… sonnovafuck.”
The more John spoke, the weaker his voice became, until he faded off with a final expletive. Nora called after him, but there was no response. It was at that moment, when she came to terms with that fact that all she could do was sit and wait…
//
Tag/s: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl / @yamatra / @bubblegum-bee-otch
//
Note: Two more, friends!
#Fallout 4#Hancock x Nora#Hancock / Nora#Hancock x Sole Survivor#Hancock / Sole Survivor#Fallout Fanfiction#Fallout Soulmate AU#Soulmate AU#Romance#Fallout Companions#Angst#One Sided Pining to Mutual Pining#Canon Typical Violence#Human x Ghoul#Fallout Hancock#female sole survivor x hancock#Nora Calls Hancock John#Dirty Windows#Slowish Burn#Author is renovating all of the buildings in the commonwealth#No Beta - I'm dying over here#enemies to lovers#RJ MacCready
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S3E4 (spoilers abound)
Portia, Prudence, and Philippa listening at the open door while Debling calls on Pen. The three of them are anything but subtle.
Aww, he gave her a potted plant so she can have nature indoors with her. I hope somebody in this house has a green thumb. He is sweet but he'd better be honest with whoever he ends up marrying about his actual reason for finding a wife.
Has Pen truly given up on Colin? It's sad if that's true.
"I will surely eat all of the biscuits" You mean we FINALLY have an appearance by Colin's bottomless pit of a stomach? It only took what, TWO AND A HALF SEASONS?!
Violet knows when something is up but she also knows a dismissal when she hears one.
Benedict and Lady Tilley. Yeah, she's this season's Siena, though I will say I like her a lot more than I liked Siena (which isn't hard). She won't last but at least they'll be fun to watch while she's around.
Agatha and Marcus. Their dynamic is interesting -- "Do whatever, I'm too busy to get involved." I doubt he'll last beyond S3, but you never know.
"to become the new Marquess Samadani" OH MY FUCKING GOD, SHONDA, YOU DID NOT!!! The wife of a marquess (or a female marquess in her own right) is not called a marquess, but a MARCHIONESS! I know marquess isn't a common title in the British peerage but Shonda, you have access to Wikipedia, FUCKING USE IT!!!
"You read me too well." God, I love Charlotte and Brimsley.
Violet, El, Fran, and the kids are expecting Lord Samadani but Maybe-John has dropped in instead. We'd better learn his name soon, this is driving me nuts.
"John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin." FUCKING FINALLY!!!! I don't care that his accent is wrong, I love this guy already! Is your cousin Michael in town too, John? Or is he earning his title of the Merry Rake elsewhere?
John and Fran are simply enjoying the silence and the rest of the family is completely baffled, I love it. And here comes Samadani, lovely. John, your timing is awful.
Samadani seems like a nice enough guy, he's just wrong for Francesca.
Love the library, hate Portia's internalized misogyny. I really feel for Cressida now. Can Debling marry her once Colin finally gets his head out of his ass and marries Pen?
I take "revelry" to mean Colin's friends are going whoring and want him to come with, lovely.
Debling is finally being honest? Well, not directly, but still, I'll take it for now. Oh, he's being subtle but he is being direct, got it. Poor Pen, she's torn between the life she wants and a good life that's being offered to her.
Colin with his two ladies again but this time, he's not into it. If you've already paid, Colin, you could've just bid them goodnight and left, you didn't have to stay.
Francesca running into John on the street. These two are a little too quiet for their own good, but I'm sure they'll be fine, maybe with a little help from Violet.
The Cowpers' sitting room has to be the most depressing room on the planet. Lord Cowper's forbidding Cressida from being friends with Eloise? Is it because of Colin? Or Pen? Or maybe he thinks she's putting too much effort into the friendship and not enough into finding a husband. Cressida, I'm guessing you're the same age as Daphne, so I believe that makes you 23 now. You're a legal adult and have been for two years. It would be highly irregular but you could move out of your parents' house. I'm sure the Bridgertons would take you in if Eloise explained everything.
Uh oh, the Mondriches' pub needs saving (again). We'll have another last-minute save by a Bridgerton by the time S3 is over, I'm sure. Frankly, most of the ton can fuck themselves, and that includes Colin's "friends," especially Fife. Pig.
Colin wanting more out of sex is a great sign of both his maturity and him falling in love.
So Debling's serious about proposing to Pen. Poor Pen and poor Cressida.
BTW, I love how the subtitles keep calling the music this season "pensive," it feels like an unintended pun.
For a woman who can't come up with a decent metaphor to save her life, Violet is very wise when it comes to her kids. Oh, she is playing Colin like a fiddle! Go, Violet!
I really like her and Marcus together, he seems like a great guy, though apparently somewhat estranged from Agatha.
Cressida came to Eloise. El really brings out the best in her, something her parents really try to keep hidden. I swear to God, Shonda, if you don't give Cressida a happy ending, I will.
Be careful, Fran, especially with the Queen watching.
Colin has finally outgrown his "friends," halleluiah!
Well, at least Debling bowed out gracefully. And Cressida still has a chance, as slim as it is.
Oh, is this THE carriage scene? Not quite how the book one went but hey, if we get the same outcome, I'm all for it.
Aww, Colin looks like he's about to cry.
"Are you going to marry me or not?" Colin, I could kiss you but I'll leave that to Pen. WE GOT OUR BOOK PROPOSAL!!!
And we don't even get an answer before the episode ends.
Nice cliffhanger, Shonda.
#bridgerton#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3 spoilers#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#francesca bridgerton#cressida cowper
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per @bluthmodelhome’s request (and for anyone else who would like to read this), rant below the cut because i have had it:
for a little backstory, i started watching the rags again in 2022 when they were making their playoff run. i didn’t watch a whole lot of games, so i couldn’t call myself a fan, but i started making more of a commitment to learn about hockey & the team itself.
i’d say i started watching routinely during the 2022-23 season. i didn’t have a favorite player in the beginning, as i was starting to get to know everyone & their roles. i believe it wasn’t until later in the season when i started having my eyes on 1 player in particular:
and that player was jimmy vesey.
and it wasn’t because i found him attractive or because of his sexy voice, but because i saw how noticeable he was on every shift he took, and how much effort he put into each one, whether it was the consistent forechecking, clearing the puck, and as always, missing his shots on the net :)
not to mention, he’s one of our best penalty killers & defensive forwards.
and so i decided to take him under my own wing, and he instantly became another favorite player of mine, next to lindy.
and as i continued watching him, i originated the nickname “baby man” from his young-looking face. although i hope he knows to never ever grow facial hair again because it looks terrible.
and many have said it before, how critically undervalued he is on this team, and i’m sure that’s why he chose to sign a 2 year extension in 2023. it’s because he proved himself enough wanting to stay in new york.
but now that he’s in the 2nd and final year, and for him to be injured during preseason and then sidelined for the first few weeks of the regular season due to still being on LTIR, you would think after missing that much time, he’d be able to get back into his role.
which he did.
that was until last week, when lavi decided to healthy scratch him, and my first initial thought was “why would you do that?”
because not to mention that the team is not doing very well right now, and instead of having the star players take accountability and them being scratched, we’re gonna place the burden of it on a fourth liner that plays <10 minutes a night and hasn’t made too many mistakes since he came back. got it.
i get one game. one game is fine. whatever, i’ll get over it.
until they lose.
and then he got scratched a second time.
and then i started wondering: “this can’t be a coincidence, right?”
and i know berard just came back from injury, but i didn’t think he’d be moving down to 4th line. i thought he’d go back to 2nd. guess i was wrong.
so yeah, i wasn’t too thrilled.
and guess what? they lose again.
so THEN i think “okay, obviously, something’s not working. i’m sure he’ll be back wednesday and everything will go back to somewhat normal.”
wrong, wrong, wrong.
jimmy’s scratched for the third time in 5 games.
and at this point, i’m completely agitated, and i’m fucking pissed off, because it’s not fair.
it’s not fair that he has to travel with the team & participate in morning skate only to end up sitting in the press box for the night.
yet he still has team dinners with them, gets dressed up in his suit, brings along his phone & water bottle for the ride, and doesn’t even step foot on the ice once.
and then he meets with the team after the game ends, giving them all fist bumps if they win and perhaps pats of reassurance if they lose. the one thing he keeps wishing, no matter how selfish it may sound, is how he would’ve loved to be apart of the game, whether win or lose.
finally, he & the team take either the bus ride back to the hotel after an away game or he drives himself back to his place after a home one, and i’m sure he feels the waves of sadness, defeat, self-sabotage as if it’s his fault.
but it’s not.
there are plenty of other players on the team playing a lot worse than him right now, so why are they not being benched?
it just doesn’t make sense to me how he has to take ownership for the team’s continuous inconsistencies.
he deserves so much better than what he’s getting right now. i know it’s december, and i know he’s gonna play again. he’s 2 games away from his 600th, and it should’ve been tonight.
but it’s not, and it makes me sad.
more importantly, it makes me sad for him.
and so god help me if they lose tonight.
because if lavi doesn’t connect the pieces together, where he’s essentially setting jimmy up as a scapegoat to overshadow the problems stemming from the top players, he might not be around much longer. not to say it’s his fault for how the team is playing, but that’s how it usually goes.
and i find it funny how no one has even bothered to ask lavi as to why jimmy’s been scratched. wouldn’t that be one of the first things you think of? guess not.
save me the aggravation, and let the fucking man play.
but don’t forget: if lavi can’t fully appreciate jimmy’s contributions, we here on rangers lb always can.
because at the end of the day, jimmy vesey is not the problem. he never, ever will be.
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Get to Know Me Tag :)
was tagged by @telomeke, @ranchthoughts, and @callipigio <3
do you make your bed?
not usually. both in my room at my parent's flat and now in my own flat as well i don't have a couch to hang out on and so i tend to spend a lot of time in my bed during the day bc it's more comfortable there. why make my bed in the morning if i mess it up soon enough anyway? i'll only make my bed when i'm trying to feel/look neat (like for example when people who i don't really know come over)
what's your favourite number?
23! elementary school me was veeery creative in choosing this number.... (my birthday is on a 23rd) anyway this number stuck with me and now it's just part of my personality hahaha
what is your job?
i'm a uni student and i don't have a "fixed" job where i'm employed and get money every month, but i have been working at a specific theater every summer since 2022. this year i'm actually the official assistant director. the rehearsals haven't properly started yet, but i've already one or the other task for it. can't wait for june when we're finally starting with the rehearsals!!!!!!!
if you could go back to school, would you?
depends... compulsory schooling that they make you go through from age 6 to age 15?? HELL NO. adult education? catch me taking 434353 courses on 434353 things
can you parallel park?
i don't have a driver's license
a job you had that would surprise people?
i haven't had many jobs in my life and none of them seem very surprising tbh? if you know me, at least i've worked as a graphic designer before, but i don't see how that would be surprising. also, i'm sure that i've mentioned this a few times in my tag ramblings
do you think aliens are real?
i don't think aliens are real but i also don't think aliens are not real. basically, i don't think aliens exist in the way they are depicted in movies, but if nasa came up to me and told me they found some sort of life somewhere else in the universe i'd be like "yeah i'll believe that". the universe is so vast, so it wouldn't surprise me if there really is something out there, but i don't really think about it tbh
can you drive a manual car?
as i said, i don't have a driver's license. but if i did, the answer would be yes. bc as a european you WILL be taught to drive a manual car at driving school. you could also choose to learn how to drive an automatic car, but that's really the exception to the rool. besides, idk what it's like in other countries, but in austria you're allowed to drive manual cars only if you got your license with a manual car. so getting your license with an automatic car limits your options quite a lot
what's your guilty pleasure?
i don't really feel guilty about my pleasures?? i don't always tell people that i'm really into thai bl, but that's less about feeling guilty and more of a "know your target audience" kind of thing.
tattoos?
nope. my brother has a couple of tattoos and he'd love it if i got one (i think he'd like to have a matching tattoo with me), but i can't do needles. but if i ever did get a tattoo, it would probably be something related to sicily. my brother actually has a tattoo of the trinacria
favorite color?
a really shiny dark blue and a really shiny darker red!

favorite type of music?
uhhhh.... good question?? i grew up listening to classical music and i still really like it, but i don't really listen to it anymore. these days i listen to pop music quite a lot? but that's also a very hit and miss for me, bc i tend to get overwhelmed easily with pop music. idk, just show me a song of any genre of music and i'll tell you if i like this particular song or if i dislike it my playlists tend to be full of song i have some kind of emotional connection too, though! so for example, songs that have been in series/movies that i watched or songs that my loved one's have/had in their playlists and that remind me of them, etc...
do you like puzzles?
i don't dislike puzzles, but it's not something that i would think to spend my time with
any phobias?
spiders!! i've had a phobia of spiders all my life. it's gotten a little better now, and how freaked out i am really depends on the size of the spider, where it is, if it's moving, and also how i'm feeling that day. the worst thing that could happen is a spider touching me in any way, so as long as i have enough distance between me and the spider and the spider is stationary, i'm good. i really dislike spiders right above my head, though i also have a phobia of needles. when i was 12 i had to get my blood drawn when i was sick once and i had a panic attack (or something along those lines). i've tried to avoid needles as best as i could ever since... and as a child i also had a fear of vomit. people vomiting still makes me uncomfortable, but at least i no longer run away and hide behind the door of my room hahaha
favorite childhood sport?
i've never been really athletic but i liked swimming!
do you talk to yourself?
in my own flat when i'm all by myself? yeah!
what movies do you adore?
der schuh des manitu is my problematic fave <3 apart from that, i also adore stardust and tangled and the emperor's new groove and i'm also up for marathoning high school musical, how to train your dragon, pirates of the carribean (1-3), and lord of the rings (extended edition of course) at any given point in time
coffee or tea?
tea!!!!! i LOVE tea!!!!! i had a cup of tea only an hour ago!!!! i'm not big on coffee, apart from a cappucino every once in a while which i also only drink when i'm in italy bc i just don't like it enough to spend 3-4€ on it in austria. coffee flavored things are mostly fine, but coffee as a beverage? not a big fan
first thing you wanted to be growing up?
i don't remember the first thing i wanted to be that wasn't a suggestion by my parents. possibly an actress????
tagging @newyearknwwme @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @celestial-sapphicss @cornflowershade @dimplesandfierceeyes @wack-overflow
as always, feel free to ignore!
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