#for me i do think daniel must have known SOMETHING

[britcision]

Technically it’s not Wednesday anymore and technically I should only be writing the next chapter, not several chapters down the line, but Jazz grabbed me by the throat so y’all get a rough draft on something that’s gonna be like, 2-3 chapters away 👀

Maybe 👀

Enjoy!

———————

Dan’s lips curled into an unpleasant snarl, pointed fangs suddenly more prominent.

“Oh, really, Danny. Did you think this was going to work? Some stupid illusion and I’d fall to my knees, sobbing for reconcilliation? Or did you bring me the real thing so you could watch me kill her in front of you this time? It might not stick but I’m sure I can try.”

Part of Danny nearly lunged forward, Obsession throbbing down to his core… but he held it in check. After all, this wasn’t the Jazz Dan had known; she wasn’t just a teenager anymore.

And she certainly wasn’t impressed.

“Daniel James Fenton, you know better than to talk about someone when they’re standing right in front of you,” she snapped, her hip cocked out and arms folded in an entirely done big-sister posture that only got scarier with age. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.”

And Dan… froze, for a moment. And Danny knew he’d been right in that second, that microsecond of hesitation. Of inactivity.

Sure, Jazz might be well past six feet tall herself now, but she looked like their mom enough to make his Vlad severely uncomfortable. More than that though… Danny had never gotten over the thought of her dying. Dan had broken the world about it.

And he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.

It was covered up a moment later, in bluff and bluster as he scoffed and glared in her general direction.

“What, are you going to psychoanalyze me? Tell me how sad and tragic I am too? Give me a break, I’ve got some lovely coping mechanisms,” he snapped, aura flaring in a burst of green fire.

But Jazz had never been scared of Danny’s aura, and frankly? He was the Ghost King. Dan’s was a drip in the bucket by comparison.

She marched straight up to him, ignoring the flames completely, and grabbed him by the chin. Forced him to face her, even as his eyes widened, face freezing.

Danny had never heard her voice so cold.

“Is that supposed to be scary? Am I supposed to be impressed, Danny? Honestly, I’d like to say that must be the Fruit Loop’s influence, but you’ve always been a drama queen.”

And then she twisted him into a headlock, all 6’9 mountain of muscle like he was still a ninety-pound twink, and noogied him.

“You’re such a fucking dork, Danny.” She sounded almost fond now, exasperated, a tone Danny was painfully familiar with. Even knowing she wasn’t talking to him-him, the cringe was automatic.

Dan sure as hell had no idea what to do about it, panic flaring madly across his face and his aura, trailed by a lacklustre attempt at anger.

“Get your hands off me,” he roared, turning intangible and going to jerk himself away… and then Jazz’s eyes flashed teal and she reached after him, her own hand changing to pull him straight back into the noogie.

Something about that broke Dan completely, his entire body suddenly limp and held up only by Jazz’s continued grip on his head. He seemed almost catatonic, completely zoned out… which Jazz completely ignored, grinding her knuckles into the top of his head.

Danny was pretty sure he knew why though; it was the one thing which had always been able to calm him down, back when he was approaching his twenties and the possibility of Dan started giving him panic attacks. Jazz had snapped him out of it in a much gentler way, but it amounted to the same reminder.

Jazz was his big sister. His beloved mentor, his voice of reason, his rock. And after living in Amity Park for almost twenty years, directly on top of the Fenton Portal, she was liminal as hell and about one near-death experience from a halfa herself.

There was just no way he was ever going to lose her, until she decided she was good and ready to move on. It wasn’t possible, and a little thing like dying wasn’t going to slow Jasmine Fenton down.

If it happened before she graduated, Danny was pretty sure she’d rise before Finals Week even if she died the night before.

(And given her self-care habits, he did occasionally worry about it actually happening… but she promised her ghost-envy days were long behind her and she’d never get that bad.

Belief: pending.)

Danny wasn’t actually fully sure if her ghost-grabbing abilities extended to anyone else or if she could just always wrangle him, but he and Dan were the same person; enough so that it sure as hell worked on him.

Dan wasn’t going down without a fight though - Danny was almost a little impressed with how quickly he fought past the blue screen (it might have been Vlad’s influence, given the sudden haughty tone) as he began to shove at her arms, quickly working up to a shout.

“Get your hands off me! Do you have any idea who I am! I am the great destroyer, breaker of worlds, and you will not treat me like a small child!” He bellowed, struggling viciously against her grip.

If they were in the real world, it’d probably have worked. If he had access to any of his ghost powers, it wasn’t a fight Jazz could possibly have won.

But this was a dream, and either Nocturn had a damn good idea what’d happen to him if anything happened to Danny’s big sister in his realm… or he just plain liked Jazz better.

(Most people did. Danny was fine with it.)

Because the more Dan struggled, the more Jazz began slowly increasing in size, getting bigger and bigger until she entirely dwarfed him and had him cuddled like a doll under her arm. Watching him struggle at this point was just a little embarrassing, actually, and Jazz finally took pity on him.

And settled him on her hip like an unruly toddler, grinning down at him.

“Now, do you think you’re ready to actually talk to me?” She asked him gently - and if she found the sight of this full sized man so relatively tiny as funny as Danny did, it didn’t even show.

Dan glowered up at her.

“You may be favoured by the fool who runs this domain, but you will never be my equal in anything but dreams,” his snarled viciously, his anger apparently stoked by indignation.

(Danny made a note. Still definitely some Vlad tendencies.)

Jazz just chuckled softly, bumping him up to give him a kiss on the forehead.

“Oh, baby brother, you know that’s never going to be how it works,” she said brightly, then paused, glancing around. “Uh… Danny, we never talk about this again, alright?” She asked, squinting down at him.

Mildly offended that he was about the height of her ankles, Danny raised both hands in immediate surrender.

“Dude, I am not letting anyone try and get freudian on me for Jumbo-Jazz. My lips are sealed from self preservation alone.” And he’d have to make sure to emphasize to Nocturn just how valuable his own silence would be. Vital to survival, even.

Apparently satisfied, Jazz nodded, sitting carefully cross legged and settling Dan in her lap, her chin on top of his head.

“So… you told me about your future once, y’know?” She said slowly, while Dan struggled and once more surrendered to the indignity. “And Danny told me some more later. And, obviously, we all actually know that taking over and destroying the entire world isn’t actually a healthy way to process grief…”

“Fucking spare me,” Dan growled, looking about a minute away from taking a bite out of her hand.

Jazz ignored him.

“But… in spite of all of that…” she paused for a moment, leaning back and smiling down at Dan, who couldn’t quite help craning back to look at her… if only to know where the next attack was coming from. “It’s… really sweet to know that you’d break the world for me, Danny. I just really wish it hadn’t broken you, too.”

And once again, Dan froze… and for the first time, Danny could feel a crack in the impenetrable wall around his core. Between all of the performative rage and theatrics and what he really, truly felt.

Even his rally only managed to produce a vaguely sulky “I’m not broken!”

Jazz sighed softly and turned him gently in her arms, lifting him to hug tightly to her chest. She might have been shrinking now, either by Nocturn’s will or her own, but she held him close anyway.

[adimouze]

loving the fact that daniel is basically being a slut and enjoying summer on instagram like hell yeah babe go show off your hot bod you deserve it

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 3 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji, Hanni Pham, Danielle Marsh

Length: 4606 words

Tags: Daddy kink, anal galore, blowjob, face fuck, blindfolded, 4some, pearly gates, spitting, spanking, cursing, humiliation, missionary anal, analpie, ass eating, rimming

TW: kinda rough, pure, stupid smut, ass eating, eating cum out of ass

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: the most likely final part of the On her series. This fic is very mindless lmao. Important announcement at the end.)

“Yes, Daddy, that feels so good!”

Hanni’s enthusiasm is almost limitless. No matter how often you’ve ordered her to your office or your apartment or some secluded bed and breakfast, she never let you down. No, the only thing ‘down’ is the momentum of her hips whenever she rides you on the couch, her beautiful ass turned towards you. She loves to make it wiggle when your cock fills her cunt.

You take delight in such a sight and give her the good-girl-spanks she deserves. Hanni craves them as much as she craves your eyes, seeing nothing but love in hers. There is nothing stopping her from leaving, you never demanded the same things from her then you did from Minji. But where Minji lacks endless love and desire for you, Hanni fills these gaps and then some. 

“Oh my God, Daddy, you-you’re gonna make me cum again!” Hanni’s throat is sore from her moans and screams (and the rough face fuck you gave her earlier). “I-I can’t hold it!”

“Why would you hold it?” you ask her and pull her back against your bare chest. “Ruin yourself all over me, you slut.”

You give her thrusts, quick, not too strong and that is all she needs. Her effort was remarkable but in the end she wants you to fuck her over the edge. Hanni’s pussy convulses around your cock, tries to milk it and you are about to give in when your cell phone rings. 

“Fuck,” you curse and pick it up while dropping a powerless Hanni to the carpet floor. “Who is this?”

“Yo, have you turned on the TV?” the person on the other end, some former manager of a group you were interested in, asks. “Today are the MAMA awards.”

“And? They’ve been the same for basically forever. And you know I don’t have any control over—”

“Oh no, another group has won.” You can hear the smirk on his lips. “I bet you’ve heard the song and the group—some of them are under your wings, I assume?”

For a moment you are confused, then it dawns on you brightly. “You could say that,” you respond calmly and look at one of those who are under your wings—though under your cock fits better. “Let me be honest, I did not think that they would make it this far.”

“Their success is unheard of, they must have paid you really well,” he continues knowingly. The kind of business you do is in a paradoxical state of infamously known and also a dark secret in the industry. It’s a tightly knit conspiracy where every wrong step, every wrong turn can cost you basically everything. 

“Maybe they have to offer me something new, a MAMA win does not come around very often.”

#

“Congratulations on your win. I bet this is part of every trainee's dream” Sent by you

“Thank you, Daddy~ It definitely is, but I’m certain we couldn’t have done it without you “ Sent by Hanni

You smirk and scroll through your gallery. There is a picture you’ve saved, a picture of something you want. Some people screenshot what they want from social media apps or shopping sites—you will do the same right now, though your picture does not include a product one can buy. 

“I found this picture of you and one of your friends. She is very attractive.” Sent by you

“I know, Danielle ist so damn pretty <3” Sent by Hanni

“Her prettiness equals probably two MAMA awards…” Sent by you

That should do it. Hanni is probably stunned right now. If Danielle is next to her, she probably looks at her—your terrible influence deeply rooted in Hanni’s mind—and she will see what you see: another object for your desire, another girl you can train to make your personal fuck doll, another idol sold by her bandmate. Unlike Minji, Hanni might actually like the idea. 

You wait patiently as she ponders, typing, then deleting message after message until she settles for a simple text that makes this unhinged, lustful being inside you lose any and all control.

“Daddy deserves his reward as soon as possible. We need just 20 to 30 minutes~” Sent by Hanni

With a victorious sigh, you throw away your smartphone. It audibly cracks on the floor, but you don’t give a fuck. Phones can be bought again, but what you will get, no one can buy. These next twenty minutes will feel like hours and every second beyond that will make you lose your mind. Atleast, that is what you would have to assume if it weren’t for someone suddenly sneaking into your apartment. 

Timid, quiet steps. The person is not wearing shoes. You hear the door fall shut, gently and suddenly, she stands in your doorframe. As if your life was a script, written by a higher being which, for some reason, likes your story to be filled with as much sexual fulfillment as possible, Minji has decided to come visit you. 

“Hello, Daddy,” she coos, catching your gaze with the way she presses her frame against the door frame. Her two piece outfit with all its white frays perfectly merges with said door frame, the warm light making it look like she could disappear in your walls. “I’m sorry for not announcing myself, but may I come in?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to act not-too-happy about her convenient timing. “It’s nice to see you barefooted and in this pretty outfit—but you need to approach the right way.”

“Of course, Daddy.”

Minji gets on her knees. She begins to crawl over your wooden floor and seeing her eager eyes has you riled up. Instead of waiting for her to unbuckle your belt, you open it on your own and let your pants drop when her face reaches your crotch. Minji moans gently and presses her face against the massive bulge in your boxers. She’s not really teasing you. It’s more of a ceremony, because Minji quickly proceeds to pull down your boxers with nothing but her teeth.

“Daddy, it’s so big and beautiful,” Minji says in all honesty, her idol persona washed away by her own horniness. “May I service you with my mouth?”

“Stick out your tongue,” you order and Minji follows. You slap your tip on the exposed wet muscle and watch her faintly smile at how excited you seem. “Looks really good, how could I say no?”

No warning and just a moment later, you are buried to the hilt in Minji’s throat. She gags violently, her head tilted backwards and her wide eyes quickly release a torrent of tears. You don’t comment on it, watch on with a cold, resting bitch face and begin to fuck her face roughly. It’s hard thrust after hard thrust; not too fast though, because you want to see the submission steadily grow in her eyes.

“Fucking good, so much better since you started taking my cock like a premium whore,” you hiss and reach for the sides of her head. She locks eyes with you and through a sea of tears, you can see that she is happy. Still happy. “But it won’t be enough. I need more, another hole, and I’m not talking about your pussy. I know that you are dripping from there, but I’m going to split you open somewhere else.”

You pull out and watch Minji try to catch her breath, shocked, weak; she gets no time to recover however. You grab her hair and slide back into her not-awaiting, but slave-like throat. She takes your pounding even as it forcefully removes her faint mascara and leaves her a drooling mess. It’s Minji’s masterclass in deepthroats—a fitting end, because you will fuck something else today.

After many harsh thrusts, too many to count, but enough to have Minji at your complete mercy, you pull out. She bends over, tries to keep her composure and breathe, but you won’t allow this. She has to look at you and understand what you desire. You slap her face and spit at it. “Don’t avoid me, look at me!” you shout and Minji is tiny. A kneeling tiny bitch who follows your commands. “I will fuck your ass, do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Minji cries and puts her forehead to the floor. “Tha-Thank you for the award, Ma-Master. Please, a-abuse my ass.”

Not that it tugs at your heartstrings or anything—but instead of just fucking her in this state of complete devastation, you help her up, to her feet and cup her cheek firmly… almost gently. Minji still sobs, barely able to look up at you.

“You are here to thank me with your ass? That is actually adorable and very thoughtful of you.”

“I-I thought, because Master hasn’t fucked me th-there yet, and because he probably did with Hanni already, I—”

“Oh, I understand, but Minji—” You lean down to her ear and whisper, while your hand travels down her bare midriff into the dress and finds her folds, soaked in arousal. “—we are already past the Master stage. And you underestimate my greed, my desire for more, infinitely more. Don’t worry about that though. Get on the couch and show me your cute little asshole.”

“O-okay. Thank you, Daddy.”

As Minji lays down and wiggles off the bottom part of her dress, you get a bottle of water-like lube from a drawer in the living room table. These bottles are always nearby because situations like this have occurred quite a few times in your life. More than you can count, enough to make you the biggest villain for every girl group fan.

When you pour the lube on your cock, you inspect Minji and her cute posture. She is on her back, legs spread and in the air, while her fingers keep her butt cheeks apart. Her ring twitches and it twitches more when you rub lube all over it. Minji mewls, and mewls some more when you push a finger past the first tightness to lube the inside as well.

“You are a bit stiff, you need to loosen up or else it will hurt.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?” Minji asks in all honesty. “I’m okay with Daddy hurting me, as long as he feels good.”

You have to hold back or else you would’ve laughed at her innocent expression and the confused fear in her orbs. You align your cock with her ass, not to immediately force yourself inside that hot, tight hole, but to teach Minji how to take you well.

“If you relax, Minji, I promise it will feel good. Weird at first, probably too big, but the more you loosen up and let your asshole become a source for pleasure, it will feel great.”

“Hanni probably already knows this,” Minji mumbles in shame. You quickly reach for her jaw and put a chaste kiss on her lips.

“To be honest, I haven’t even fucked her ass before, so stop worrying. Take deep breaths and stay re-laxed.” With those final words, you wait for Minji to follow your instructions—breathe in; breathe out—before you push your cock into her brown hole.

“Oh Daddy, fuck,” Minji groans, right into your face and you love how her hands start to hold onto your back, your arms as you push more cock into her. “You are so, so big!”

“There is still more, but you are doing a great job, Minji,” you respond calmly, lifting up her ass a bit to penetrate her deeper. “Soon, you’ll love this more than anything.”

“Daddy!” Your cock is fully inside her and Minji seems to go crazy, her head thrown back into the couch, her mouth releasing loud moans rapidly. Her anal cavity squeezes you tightly, tries to wring you and it’s insanely impressive. She takes you fully on the first go and slowly catches herself. “I-it feels weird but soooo—”

“Good, right? I can feel you relax, so I will start to fuck you for real now. Congratulations, you’re not a butt virgin anymore!”

Minji weakly laughs and then gasps when you drag your cock mostly out of her ass just to push it back in, deep, to the fucking hilt. You watch as her eyes open wide, then narrow, then close, all in the rhythm of your pumps. Her cunt drips more juice too, she cannot deny the pleasure.

“Daddy, why, why do you feel so good?” Minji screams. “Why, your cock—you made me your butt slut!”

“You’re a natural at this, most of your kind quickly become addicted.”

“Make me addicted, Daddy! Please, use this hole and make me—”

You reach underneath her frayed top and pinch a hard nipple, while your teeth go for her lower lip. You can feel her insides combust, her ass clenching around your cock, her pussy convulsing around nothing, yet it is enough to make her cum. Minji is orgasming from just her ass, but she tries to hide it. 

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you laugh and begin to fuck Minji harder, her ankles in your firm hands. “Cum with your ass and be mine forever. You cannot escape anyways, so why would you want to? Don’t run from the pleasure, because I won’t stop fucking you until—”

Suddenly, you hear a key in the lock of your front door and someone whispering. Then quiet steps. Minji grows tense but you just smile at her, reassure her that there is nothing to be scared off. “Oh, you know these two, don’t worry~” 

“Huh?”

You look up and spot the first girl, Hanni, who smirks when she sees you. She puts a finger to her luscious lips and winks. You get her idea and press your palm on Minji’s mouth to keep her quiet while you slowly thrust into her tight ass. The young girl is visibly shocked that you just continue, but her shock grows even more when she spots the second girl.

“Unnie, this is weird. How long do I have to wear this blindfold?”

“Just a little bit longer~ We are almost there, just a few more steps.”

Hanni guides the blind Danielle, a beautiful, skinny girl dressed in what you assume is a stage or award show outfit. Either way you love how exposed her midriff and collarbone are. Danielle’s skin is flawless and her face looks even better than in pictures or videos.

The two get closer. Hanni is now behind the taller girl and guides her by holding her hips. The two seem familiar with this kind of intimacy. You quietly pull out of Minji’s butt and luckily, she stays quiet in this tense situation. 

“Dani, we have arrived,” Hanni giggles and wraps her hands around her friends’ tiny waist. “I have a present for you, but you have to get on your knees and guess what it is~”

“Unnie, if it’s your pussy again—we already did that! And if you want to fuck, you can just ask!”

You raise an eyebrow at Hanni who is clearly nervous and sweating. She got caught fucking with a second member of her group without your permission. You can’t really blame her. You can’t wait to stick your cock into that tight body and fuck Danielle’s mouth with your fingers. But for now, you let Hanni finish her game.

“This time,” she continues and kisses Danielle’s shoulder. “It’s something different. I have found the biggest, most beautiful cock because I know you would want to suck one of those someday.”

Danielle’s pale skin starts to burn with a deep red. All of her blood seems to go to her face. She starts to lose focus and whimpers a bit, especially because Hanni becomes more touchy, hands on her chest, her tummy, her ass.

“H-how did you know, Unnie?”

“You are really, really bad at hiding your dildo’s, Dani. I found like four of them. One still had your saliva around it~”

Danielle puts both hands to her face and lowers it in shame. Everyone in the room can still feel the glow of her blush through her fingers. You stroke your cock once, amused at the situation, but also tired of waiting. Hanni notices and continues her plan quickly.

“Look, Dani, I’ll show you how to do it.” Hanni lowers herself in between your legs. For the first time, you check out her outfit. Odd, you remember it from some performances a few months ago—does it really matter when she immediately goes to suck you, throat you even? “Oh my, it tastes so good! I wonder why that is?”

You point to Minji’s still exposed asshole and Hanni smirks knowingly. Poor Minji did not dare to move a single inch this entire time but now with Hanni’s loud gagging filling the room, she can stop being quiet and move her hands to cover up.

“U-unnie, are you really sucking it?” Danielle asks the obvious, still in disbelief. “Is it a real one, like, are you sucking a boy?”

Hanni pops you free from her perfect lips and makes sure to taste all of the lube and Minji’s ass from your manhood with her tongue. She cleans you passionately, from sac to tip until you finally give her a bit of precum. 

“Dani, he is a man, a Daddy. Trust me, he is very good looking and his cock is even better~” Hanni’s voice is so lewd, it feels cursed with her adorable visuals. You relish in her compliments and brush her black strands back behind her ear. “Kneel next to me and I show you.”

Danielle kneels down, her small frame taking the spot in between your legs next to Hanni. She is still confused though. “But Unnie, how can you show me if I’m not allowed to remove the blindfold?”

Hanni rolls her eyes and without warning, grabs Danielle’s face and pulls her into a kiss. The younger girl flails in surprise, finds hold on your thigh, but somehow she can’t hold onto it for long. Maybe the thought of a stranger really seeing her like this makes her lose grip on the situation—a good thing in your book.

“Ha-Hanni-unnie!” Danielle shrieks when their lips disconnect. “Why, why did that taste so good?” 

“If you want more, you need to suck and clean his cock like I did. Here, open your pretty mouth and be a good girl for Daddy~”

“You say weird stuff—ugh, hng!”

You groan softly when Hanni not-so-softly pushes Danielle’s face down your cock. A new, sensational throat engulfs you. Of course you expected violent gags and tears coming from behind the blindfold, how could you not. Hanni is literally forcing Danielle to deepthroat you for the first time. Her dildo training seems to have paid off however: Danielle is a lot more composed, measured even and makes sure to keep her teeth off of you. 

Soon, she finds her own pace and bops up and down your shaft, using her tongue from time to time without yet knowing where it actually feels good for you. It’s hard for her to learn when she can’t read your facial expression, so she just guesses and sucks and bops her head. It makes it all the more impressive how she can keep up with you and do a better job than Minji did on her first try.

“Hanni-unnie,” Danielle immediately shouts after getting her mouth off of your dick. “That was very mean of you, like, what the—”

You interrupt the young, angry girl by giving her blindfold a tug and watching it fall off of her dazzling, still flushed features. You smirk down at her as she watches up in awe, her eyes inspecting you like you did to her earlier.

“Oh, he-hello, sir,” Danielle says and tries to be formal while your cock is still on her lips. “I’m sorry we just walked into here and… about this.” She points at your hard shaft which you take in your hand and poke against her soft cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, you beautiful thing. In fact, I should be sorry about this right here.” You point next to you, where Minji tries to cover up her pussy. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“You, you had sex with Minji-unnie? Like, i-in her vagina?”

“Oh Dani,” Hanni coos and puts a hand into Danielle’s red top. “You don’t know how good a real cock feels in your pussy. Way better than a dildo.”

“Stop being so lewd, Unnie!”

“But you two are wrong,” you interrupt them and look at Minji, who valiantly fights through her embarrassment. There is nothing to be embarrassed about though; she did great taking your cock in her ass. “We had anal sex just now, and I think I speak for us both when I say that it was awesome.”

Hanni pouts at the thought of not yet having you in her ass while Danielle is both struck by horror and thrill when she cross-eyes your cock and then switches to look at Minji’s butt, which you uncover for her.

“Minji-unnie, was it really that good?” Danielle asks with wide open eyes.

“Yeah, how was it?” Hanni adds and involuntarily adds pressure for the leader to answer.

“I-it was… the best.”

A moment of silence and awkwardness for Minji until Danielle jumps up and pulls down her black skirt. Another unexpected turn, she seems to be ready to go asap. “Sir, can you—would you have sex with my butt too?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you try to play it cool and reach for the bottle of lube. “Turn around, we need to get you ready.”

“Here, let me help you, Daddy.” Hanni gets a hold of Dani’s ass as soon as she spins around and spreads the cheeks apart. Dani gasps at first, but then giggles when she finds her Unnie to be already naked. She starts to kiss Hanni’s skin while you put the nozzle to her beautiful, clean ring and push lube inside. Danielle shudders while Hanni looks on with jealousy. It will be her turn soon enough though. 

“You have a gorgeous body, Dani,” you compliment her before grabbing her waist and pulling her onto you. “You are so light, I think I need to try a new position with you. Are you down for that?”

“Sir, I—if it’s not too crazy, I think I can do it. But remember, this is my first time.”

“You have to be relaxed, Dani,” Minji suddenly adds and stands next to her, not covering her private parts anymore. “If you are tense, it’s going to hurt—when you are loose however, Daddy can fuck you so good, it will feel like heaven.”

“O-okay then, I think I’m ready.”

You nod and lay down on the couch, Danielle on top of you. She rests her back on your strong chest and your hard cock searches for her tight asshole. Luckily, Hanni is there to help align your tip with it (not before sucking it of course). Dani takes deep breaths instinctively and with your primal instinct to fuck, your cockhead disappears in her ass.

“Oh fuck, that looks so hot!” Hanni coos.

“Stop staring, please,” Danielle whimpers and you feel her incredible texture convulse around your aroused phallus. No, she definitely gets turned on by this, so you’ll make it even better.

“Hanni, keep staring,” you order. “Oh, and make your mouth useful on my ass. See it as punishment for having sex with Dani without my permission.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry Daddy.”

“Sir, isn’t this too lewd?” Dani asks while you begin to rock her thin body up and down your cock like it’s a fleshlight. 

“Minji, how about you lick Danielle’s pussy. Make yourself familiar with it.”

“Yes, Daddy, she tastes really sweet and is quite… wet.” Minji smiles and you get what she means. Her mouth is promptly on Dani’s clit and now the two are moaning in unison. Your thrusts into Dani’s ass become harder.

“Oh dang, so much in my a-a—, I mean butt,” she whispers and you look at her face. “Sir, you are one lewd bast— person. Making young girls do this stuff. Aren’t you a bit too old for us?”

“Maybe that is why they call me Daddy,” you respond, the humor lost because your expression remains stern even through the pleasure. “Don’t hold back, curse as much as you want. This is no tv show or live stage. Get used to this cock, because I won’t stop after this one time.”

“I won’t either, you fucking bastard.”

Your lips meet in a haze, then you decide to give it your all. You fuck Dani hard, force more and more curse words out of her good-girl-mouth. Her cunt is forced against Minji’s eager lips, while you make sure Hanni is covered in your musk—though she kinda seems to enjoy serving your ass. Even after all this, she might still be the best baby girl out of this trio.

“Yes, fuck, yes, you fill my tiny ass so good! Fuck me with your big fat cock, give me that cock, open me so wide until I—”

“You horny bitch.” You yank down her top to reveal tiny tits, jiggling a little at your every thrust. Her skin is glowing, she is in complete heat. Danielle is a nymph with a tight ass and a pussy so wet, she can save someone from dehydration. You want to test your theory, if her orgasm is as explosive as you want it to be.

“My Lord, I’m so going to fucking cum, I will cum! Make me squirt, make me fucking, ahh!”

Like a fountain, Danielle’s juices paint Minji’s face, cover her hair and even Hanni below. She also doesn’t stop, not with your endless thrust into her ass. She is like an infinite source, eventually filling Minji’s mouth and marking Hanni as a dirty, rimming whore covered in girl cum.

“That was so good, Sir—”

“We are not yet done!” You squeeze Dani to your chest so she cannot escape and start to violate her ass some more, to the point your entire cock stretches her in all directions. For some reason, you feel like you could breed this hole for two eternities, but for now, one massive load has to be enough. 

With your final, deepest of thrusts, you force all of your seed into Danielle’s tight ass-pussy, fill it up and make sure she is tight enough to keep it inside for now. Pulling out is hard but rewarding, and hearing, feeling her pant on top of you is heavenly. 

“It’s so deep in me, fuck,” she moans and you bite her cheek. 

“Push it out of your slutty hole, you naughty bitch. 

“Hanni, Minji! Get ready for your daily load!”

The two girls are under our spell, not questioning anything you say and stick out their tongue underneath Danielle’s butthole. You pull back her heels to give them more space and with an blissful, erotic expression, Dani lets her ass be gaped. Your creamy white cum oozes out of her and Minji and Hanni greedily eat it all up, even getting their tongues into the completely overstimulated girl and cleaning her butthole.

“Shit, this is so lewd,” Dani whimpers and you put a hand around her throat.

“After I fuck Hanni’s ass in a rough Doggy, my heel on her face because I know she loves that, you will eat my cum out of her ass too. And don’t lie; I know you will like it.”

Danielle grins, licking her lips in excitement. “You are such a nasty bastard, Daddy.”

(A/N2: here is the very short version, I'll release a longer announcement later this week probably. I have decided to quit for a while, maybe forever but that is still in the stars. I can still write and I kinda like it, but this endless cycle of horniness and unhinged smut is killing me. I also need to focus on life/studies. More on that later this week. Love you all, peace out.)

[sargeantposting]

A Logan Sargeant Primer: Part I (2000 - 2015)

Logan grows up in a ritzy suburb of Fort Lauderdale called Lighthouse Point with his parents and his older brother, Dalton.

The Sargeants don't have a deep motorsport history. Dalton and Logan get their first go-karts for Christmas in 2006, a gift from their father after their mother refuses to let her children ride dirt bikes anymore. Logan tells the NYT that:

“No one in the family was really even that much into racing. We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.”

The two brothers get more serious as the years go by-- within a few years, they're racing competitively. They both do well. Logan finishes in third place in only his first year of racing, and wins two titles in his second. 

Unfortunately, they figure out fairly quickly that there isn’t much more room to advance in American karting:

My older brother, Dalton, and I had been racing for a few years, and it had gotten to the point where we were asking around about where the next best level of competition was, and everybody was saying the same thing…. It was always Europe, Europe, Europe, Europe. To the point where my parents really started to think about it. At first it was just this idea, like Maybe we’ll move to Europe, who knows. I was just a kid overhearing stuff, so I didn’t know how serious the conversation must have been until this day I’ll never forget.

The conversation gets serious in 2012, when Logan’s dad, Daniel, asks the two if they want to move to Switzerland:

It was summer, and we were out to lunch. It was me, my dad, and Dalton. [...] So we’re at this restaurant, right? Chowing down on burgers (my favorite), and my dad gets to asking us about racing. Finally, he’s like, “What do you guys think? Do you really want to race in Europe? Are you 100% sure about this?” Me being 11 and naive, I was like, “Yeah sure.”  Looking back on it, I think I was lucky I was that young and that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. All the different ways it could change my life, the level of sacrifice it would require from my whole family. Because if I had known, I don’t know if I would’ve made the same decision so easily. It all happened fast, like in the movies. One minute, it’s Christmas, I’m six, and me and Dalton are yelling at the top of our lungs, excited about the two karts sitting in the driveway, pointed diagonally at each other like in a magazine. Next minute, I’m 11 and Dalton’s 14. We’re sitting at the table eating lunch with my dad, and it’s decided — our family’s moving to Europe.

When Logan tells the same story in GQ in 2023, he says:

I was always just going with the flow. For me it was just: sure.

The Sergeant family leaves for Switzerland just as Logan finishes up fifth grade. While Logan always talks about the family move to Switzerland in the context of his parents making sacrifices for his career, it's a little more complicated than that.

 GQ’s profile steps around the subject, briefly mentioning that “in addition to the racing opportunities, [Logan’s] Dad had business there.” Unfortunately, business would be an understatement. 

At the time, Logan’s dad, Daniel, worked for the family business– an asphalt trading and shipping company named Sergeant Marine. One of the driving forces behind Sergeant Marine’s success would be Daniel’s older brother, Harry. 

When Logan’s detractors mention his family’s connections to Trump, they’re usually referencing Harry. The NYT describes his billionaire uncle as “a former [Top Gun] fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)” 

Harry would leave the company around the time Daniel moved his family to Switzerland. According to The Florida Phoenix, “The entire family was embroiled in a long-running bitter series of lawsuits that ended with a 2015 bankruptcy settlement. Harry III walked away with a cool $56-million. In return he gave up any claim to ownership of Sargeant Marine and other family companies. There were 14 different lawsuits in several states in addition to the bankruptcy. The lawsuits produced salacious testimony that could only arise in a vicious dispute between millionaires. Harry III accused his brother Daniel of spending millions on his sons’ pursuits of race car driving and other ventures. Meanwhile, Daniel accused Sargeant III of being a spendthrift on things such as a $7.5-million mansion, private jets and exotic cars.”

Logan with his dad.

It would, somehow, get worse:

Oil and asphalt mogul Harry Sargeant III claims that industrial design plans along with recordings of "private consensual relations" were purloined from his private email account and traded off to a corporate intelligence agent as part of a years-long smear campaign against him spearheaded by his brother. Reigniting a long-running saga of brother-against-brother litigation, Harry Sargeant III claims that hundreds of pages of business records, personal discussions and "extremely sensitive videos and photographs" were illegally obtained from his email account. The material was used as currency for information-bartering between his brother Daniel Sargeant and a corporate intelligence chief at the nonparty legal service firm Burford, the lawsuit alleges. Harry is demanding damages for alleged invasion of privacy on the part of Daniel. The brothers had in years past worked together on managing the Sargeant family's global oil and asphalt empire, before intra-family disputes began to tear them apart. [...] The lawsuit claims the Burford investigator, a former corporate attorney, knows Harry well. According to the court documents, the investigator for years worked as an enforcement agent on a $28 million judgment secured against Harry by the king of Jordan's brother-in-law Mohammad Al-Saleh, who accused Harry of cutting him out of a deal to distribute oil to troops in the Iraq War. [...] Harry claims brother Daniel gave the corporate intelligence agent the treasure trove of Harry's emails  in exchange for inside information that would help the Sargeant family's asphalt company Latin American Investments in a separate multimillion-dollar legal dispute. Harry's underlying email account ran on a server of the family company Sargeant Marine. When he was ousted from the Sargeant empire, Harry had been told that the account was cut off at the root and all information in it had been destroyed, the lawsuit says. The lifted emails were instead provided to an "untold number of people" inside and outside of the family businesses in 2016, the lawsuit claims.

The information that Daniel traded his brother’s sex tape for would end up being useless. Daniel is currently out a $5 million bond and awaiting sentencing for the foreign bribery and money laundering charges he pled guilty to back in 2019. After bribing officials in three South American countries to secure asphalt contracts, the Department of Justice ended up making an example of the company– and Daniel– for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. 

While Logan cites his career as a big reason for the family move, it appears that Sargeant Marine had conveniently made shell companies in Switzerland to aid in their illegal business dealings that same year.

Logan, blissfully unaware of any drama, tries to make the most of the big move. They move to Lugano, Switzerland– Dalton and Logan go to the American School on weekdays and race on the weekends in the European junior circuit, bouncing them between Italy, Switzerland and Britain. In GQ, Logan says:

“I definitely felt like school was a lot more challenging than in Florida,” he recalled. “And we were missing a lot of school, for sure, but that’s part of it with racing. It is what it is.”

Logan loves Switzerland. In his Players’ Tribune article, he says:

We moved into a three-bedroom apartment. It was me, my parents, Dalton, and our dog Roxy, the world traveler. Big difference from Florida. We had a whole new life. I loved Switzerland. I had a lot of good friends at my school there. I can’t explain it, but I just felt more a part of things. Me and my friends were big Chelsea fans, and we’d be hanging out, playing soccer all the time. We played Call of Duty like every other kid in the world.

However… Logan is the only one. Daniel is out doing shady asphalt deals around the world and suing his brother. Dalton moves back to Florida after a year-and-a-half. Their mother follows soon after that. Logan ends up living alone at the school: 

Dalton was my older brother, so for as far back as I can remember, I was chasing him. Man, we fought all the time. Every race, we were up against all these other kids, but he was always the one I was really trying to beat. But the thing is, when you’re a kid you miss things. You just can’t see everything so clearly. Like, for instance, being a bit older than me, I think he felt the shift more strongly when we moved, but I didn’t know it. He stayed in Switzerland for a year and a half, did some European karting, and started testing Formula cars. Then one day he just decided he wanted to go home and race in America. I won’t lie, that was a shock at the time. But I get it more now. Making that big life change was hard on my mom, too. Just think, you’re living in this brand new place, don’t have many friends. Me and Dalton were at school all day. My dad was traveling all over the place with work, so he was hardly there. The reality is, she was on her own a lot. So she ended up going back to Florida, too. For about a year and a half after that, it was just me. I was living at the school during that time.

When talking about how his mom moved back to Florida while Logan was living alone in Europe as a teenager, he told the Players’ Tribune that:

Looking back on everything, I just see all the sacrifices they made, and it means so much. No matter what they were going through, my family always pushed me to keep going. I feel like that was probably the hardest for my mom, especially. She means the world to me. She’s a bit of a worrier too, and overthinks. I think I get that from her. She’s always been the person I could go to when I was doubting myself. So I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to encourage me to keep going, when I know she probably wanted our family to be together. I’m really grateful, not only that they believed in me that much, to move our entire family, but that they took my passion for driving seriously enough not to let me give it all up.

While Logan’s personal life may be troubled, his karting career is doing exceptionally well. In 2014, he wins the prestigious SuperNats18 in Vegas:

Infinity Sports Management, Facebook - SARGEANT DOMINATES IN LAS VEGAS. Logan Sargeant produced a stunning display last weekend in the TAG Junior category at the Supernationals race in Las Vegas. After finishing runner up in the race in 2013 Logan was eager to go one better this year and bring home the winners trophy. Although Logan got pipped in qualifying he still managed to win every heat ensuring he would start from pole position for the final on Sunday. From there he kept the lead and came home 5.6 seconds clear of the second driver. With this win in TAG Junior Logan become the first driver ever to win the TAG Cadet and TAG Junior categories at the Supernationals race.

2015 manages to be even more exceptional. Logan starts the season by being the first North American driver to win a WSK event by winning the WSK Champions Cup in La Conca, Italy.

Logan with his mother after winning the WSK Champions Cup.

The season reaches its peak with Logan becomes the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship, the top junior series, since Lake Speed in 1978.

He gets to go to the FIA Awards:

Logan: And I couldn’t thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling. Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to? Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now? Logan: Yeah, it’s, it’s a really emotional thing. [...] Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You’re only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you? Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I’m quick. I can do this’? Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this. Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in? Logan: Um, well, other than school it’s really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that’s what I do. Mostly. 

When interviewed after his win, Logan tells kart360 that:

Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Logan clearly struggles on a personal level. He discusses his feelings in his Players’ Tribune article, saying: 

Coming up racing as a kid isn’t easy. That’s the most honest way I can put it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, I’m done. I’m ready to come home. I’m glad I didn’t, but there were plenty of times when I wanted to. I remember one big time was the summer right after Dalton went back. We took this trip to the Bahamas with some of our extended family and friends. We were on the water, and everything was feeling like old times. And I think I just had this pit in the bottom of my stomach, like dreading going back. There was a night when I went to my mom, and I was like, “I’m just ready to come home.” I remember her asking me more questions about what I was feeling. I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I just remember that she didn’t tell me what to do. She left it completely up to me. My dad used to always say, “If you put in the work now, it’ll pay off eventually — it’ll be worth it.” And he kind of reminded me of that on that trip too. It’ll be worth it. Those four little words … that’s what kept me going. After that I sucked it up, went back to Switzerland, put my head down, and I went for it."

When Logan makes the jump to single seaters the next year, his parents rent him an apartment to live in by himself in London. The only time he’ll spend more than a few weeks in the US since he was a 12-year old would be during COVID.

But Logan’s time in single seaters will be for the next installment.

Logan through the years.

[deadandphilgames]

A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

[sebscore]

can you write how that dinner that the drivers had for seb last year would have been with yn there??? love your writing

THE LAST SUPPER

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: mention of the time seb killed a bird on accident. mention of christian horner.

author's note: i feel like this one is long overdue? Idk, i should have written this one a long time ago but it's finally here!! thanks for the request, and thank you for loving my work! hope you like this one as well, darling! x

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Still can't believe you killed a bird.'' Alex shook his head as Sebastian finished his story about the time he accidentally shot Christian Horner's former wife's favourite bird when he visited his former team principal's home. 

''I didn't do it on purpose!'' Sebastian continued defending himself. ''Let's move onto something different, please.'' 

Nicholas pointed at the young woman in front of him. ''Y/N must have some great stories about Seb, you've known him for a long time, right?'' 

''Come on, Nicky! You can't put me on the spot like that.'' She chuckled, the eyes of all her colleagues on her making the pressure for a good story even higher. 

She momentarily glanced at Sebastian as if asking for permission to reveal some of the personal moments they had experienced over the years. He seemed to get what her eyes were saying, giving her a small nod. 

''Uh,'' she collected her thoughts, quickly wanting to get something out, ''Oh! There was this one time- it must have been like 9 or 10 years ago- me and Seb went for ice-cream after I had won some karting race, and he ordered for the both of us, and we sat down at one of the tables, and the waitress gave us our ice-cream and she said something like 'Oh, you two are so cute! I always love it when fathers come in with their daughters!' She thought Seb was my dad.'' 

By the time she finished her story, the entire table was laughing at the waitress mistaking Sebastian as Y/N's father. Meanwhile, the Aston Martin driver's cheeks coloured red at the embarrassing memory. 

''Weren't you like in your mid-twenties or something?'' Charles said, his voice an octave higher because of the laughter. 

Sebastian defeatedly nodded his head, causing more chaos at the table. ''I don't know what she was thinking- an older brother? Okay, I would have understood that, but her father? Come on.'' 

''The entire way back he kept complaining about it 'Y/N, I don't look that old, right? I don't look like I could be your father, right? Is it my hair? My clothes?' He just kept going.'' The young woman continued, enjoying the drivers' reaction to the story. 

Mick put his hand on Sebastian's shoulder. ''It probably was your clothes.'' He told his friend, matter-of-factly. 

''Yeah, it wasn't too great back then.'' Lewis agreed with Mick, remembering some of the things the German would wear back in those days. 

''No, I think it was the hair.'' Fernando chimed in, a villainous smirk on his face. 

Daniel nodded to the Spaniard's words. ''Yeah, definitely the hair! I remember it, very dad-like.'' He continued the teasing. 

''Hey, hey! Isn't the purpose of this dinner to celebrate me and my career? This isn't supposed to be a roast.'' Sebastian interjected, having heard enough about the various humorous insults thrown at him. 

Y/N lightly pushed his arm. ''Please, you were loving it! You didn't even correct the poor lady.'' Sebastian had simply stared at the waitress, while the young girl had hid her face behind a napkin as she tried to hold in her giggles at the misconception.

At her words, Sebastian lowered his head and a blush appeared on his face again. ''He was loving it! Look at him!'' George exclaimed, pointing his finger at the older man. 

''No, no, '' the German shook his head, waving his hands, ''I was just too- oh, whatever.'' He gave up his attempt at explaining himself, the drivers were too immersed in the teasing that they wouldn't believe him either way. 

''Hey,'' Y/N put her hand on Sebastian's shoulder, ''I get it, I would also love to have a daughter like me.'' She batted her eyelashes. 

''Now don't flatter yourself.'' 

''Y/N, you want to take a taxi with me and Mick?'' Lando asked her, a hopeful glance in his eyes yet a nonchalant demeanor.   

A soft smile appeared on her face, gently nodding her head. ''Yeah, that might be easier.'' She chuckled, the three of them stayed at the same hotel and it would be more convenient for them to take the same car. 

''Great.'' He smiled, turning around to join the other drivers in the lobby where they could grab their coats and call their chauffeurs. Y/N was about to follow Lando, but a faint call of her name stopped her in her tracks. 

''Yes?'' She turned around, meeting the eyes of Lewis and Sebastian. 

The Brit's hands fiddled with his phone. ''Would you, uh, take a picture of us?'' The nervousness in his voice was a rare thing, Lewis always oozed confidence. 

A big smile creeped onto her face, taking a few steps forward to take his phone. ''Of course.'' Y/N tried withholding herself from letting out a giggle, not wanting to embarrass the two men for acting so sweet with each other. 

The two World Champions awkwardly glanced at each other, trying to figure out how to pose for the picture. Y/N patiently waited for them, the phone ready in her hand. 

Eventually, they opted to clasp their hands in front of them and to simply stand next to one another. ''We're ready.'' Lewis confirmed with a nod of his head, while Sebastian adjusted his headband. 

She held the phone up vertically and snapped a few photos so there were more options to choose from would Lewis want to post them. 

Y/N frowned as she looked at the pictures- something wasn't right. 

''What is it?'' Sebastian asked her, noticing the muddled look on her face. 

She opened her mouth, but wasn't sure how to properly communicate her thoughts to them. ''It's just that, uh, it looks a bit… weird- I don't know.'' 

''What do you mean weird?'' Lewis said, confused by her answer. 

She motioned her hand between the two of them. ''You guys have known each other since you were teenagers, you've been friends for so long and have gone through so much together- this picture doesn't say that.'' Y/N clarified, out of breath as she finished her sentence. 

The two men found each other's eyes, understanding what she was saying. They met as young boys and had grown into mature men. Something glistened in their gazes, something only they understood; we've come a long way, haven't we? 

Lewis made the first move, firmly putting his hand on Seb's shoulder, a more genuine grin on his face now. Sebastian mirrored his smile and his hand found Lewis' lower back. 

Y/N could see the awkwardness leaving their bodies and held up the phone again, snapping a picture which would be liked by millions of people in a few hours. 

''Perfect!''

She showed them the photo, smirking as gentle smiles covered their faces, satisfied with the result. ''Thanks, darling.''

The withheld giggle from earlier managed to finally escape her mouth, resulting in puzzled looks from the two drivers in front of her. ''What are you laughing at?'' Sebastian asked, amused. 

Y/N shook her head, handing Lewis his phone back. “Nothing, it’s just,” she turned back around, ready to go join the other drivers, ''you two are so cute.''

The young lady didn't wait for the two men to follow her, not wanting to see their reaction to the sentiment she just told them. Meanwhile, Lewis and Sebastian admiringly watched her leave. They knew how much they meant to her, she had expressed it several times over the years. 

''We'll let her get away with that one.'' 

lewishamilton We've come a long way as drivers and continue to grow as men. Despite whatever may happen on the track we grow and become better each day. Us all coming together to celebrate life and Seb's amazing career in F1 is truly a night I'll never forget. 

📸 @/yourusername

taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads @mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolate @anonymous-platypus1

[jurassicshields]

Part of my Camp Cretaceous season 4 and 5 AU. Here Darius and Brooklyn find a photo on the yacht, showing Mitch, Tiff, Daniel, and Mila. It was dated for one month before the campers went to Isla Nublar, and that Mr. Kon was in touch with the poachers for an unknown job. The two also soon discover that Mila is Kenji's mother who he claimed died a few years ago. But what is the truth?

*Mitch Lang and Tiff Lang are running some operation for Mr. Kon. They are to begin once they get the go from Mr. Kon. *Photo taken somewhere inland by Kash Lang(most likely their son?) *Mila is Daniel's wife. She is said to have died at least 4 years ago after a car accident that Daniel managed to survive.  *Mila was known to collect various cultural outfits and objects, her style varying on her mood. 

AU OVERVIEW- The Campers have finally escaped Isla Nublar and are heading toward what they believe to be Costa Rica. But an unexpected turn of events leaves the six shipwrecked on an island full of secrets, mysteries, and threats they have never encountered before. 

SCENE SCRIPT-

Darius: What’s that?

Brooklyn jumps slightly and pulls back. Darius can now see the image that they found below, with its edge now folded. 

Darius: Do you know who they are?

Brooklyn: No, but you said he looks like Kenji’s father. Maybe there’s some relation?

She points to the man holding onto a woman, his face stone cold but looking like a person you respect. His hair was graying and an ebony tablet was in his other hand.

Brooklyn: Wonder what he was doing? Did our poachers know him at some point?

Darius goes closer, looking over all the details, then takes the photo and flips it over. On the back, he sees a small text written in the top left. It is barely noticeable and written in scratchy handwriting.

Brooklyn: I must have missed that.

Darius: November 8, 2015. Taken at-- I can’t read that part, their handwriting is too messed up. 

Brooklyn: The 8th was about a month before Jurassic World fell. So this is very recent and they all met not too long ago.

Darius(reading): Mitch Lang, Tiff Lang, Daniel Kon, Mila Kon, and the image is taken by Kash Lang.

Brooklyn quietly breathes in surprise.

Brooklyn: That is Kenji’s father! We called it! Wait! Is that his mother too? 

Brooklyn stares down at the photo, taking in the woman.

Brooklyn: She looks like him. They have the same facial expression when being forced to do something. Mrs. Kon must not like to stand for pictures.

Brooklyn says a few more things, but Darius doesn’t seem to hear them. Brooklyn shakes his arm and he looks at her.

Brooklyn: That’s Kenji’s mother! Ha! Not what I- What’s wrong?

Darius: Kenji… he… he told me that--

Darius: -his mother is dead.

Brooklyn takes a moment to register what he said, but once it does she looks sick. She glances back down at the photo, then back up.

Brooklyn: His parents wouldn’t lie to him? No one could do that to their kid.

Darius: Kenji said back when we first met that his mother died a few years ago. I think it was from a car wreck. He told me-

Kenji: (cuts in with a tired voice and a yawn) I told you what?

READ THE (NOT COMPLETED) STORY/SCRIPT HERE: https://www.wattpad.com/1340465160-camp-cretaceous-season-4-rewrite-rewrite

[jesssssssssica]

how you get the girl mv1

max verstappen was not normally someone who would go to other people for help, seeing as he deems it too embarrassing, expecting himself to be the only person that can fix his problems. 

that’s why when daniel was on the receiving end of a call with max verstappen at midnight on a tuesday, did he find himself shocked.

“i need your help”

“oh hello to you too max.”

“sorry, i just need your hel-”

“yeah, i heard you the first time. anyway you need my help? i thought you were mr independent, a lone wolf?” he chuckles slightly at the end of this question finding this whole situation quite ironic. 

“this isn’t funny dan, i really need your help, i messed up bigtime.” he whimpers, cradling his forehead with his spare hand. 

only now does daniel realise that his friend is truly being serious, having previously thought that the only help he needed was getting into his locked apartment but no it must have been much worse.

daniel quickly clears his throat before questioning,

“what happened max?”

“i broke up with her.”

silence. the air thickens on both sides of the phone, shivers running down the pair's backs. 

“why?”

that’s all daniel can say, knowing that if he were to say anything more he’d find himself getting angry at the issue at hand. in his mind a breakup between y/n and max wasn’t physically possible, they were so in love with each other it was insane. the pair were soulmates and nothing could get between the two which is why even the mention of a break up between the two leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

“i…” max slowly says, “i don’t know dan. one moment we were on the sofa just talking and then the next we were just shouting and i just got so mad and so i just broke it off and left.” 

“what were you two talking about? it must have been something if it caused such an outrage.” 

“i was talking about y/n giving up her job to join me…” he utters, embarrassed at his past self's words. he knew from previous conversations that y/n would never ever give up her career, having given up so much to put herself where she is right now. 

‘how could i ever think so selfishly?’ max thinks, pulling at his hair, fisting it and scrunching it up as he fights off the tears brewing in his eyes, waiting for daniel. 

safe to say daniel was not very impressed with his friends words, knowing that you had not liked to even think of the idea of leaving your job, it being a big part of your life. 

“max… you know how she feels about that, she’s just afraid that if you ever were to break up then she would just be stuck and as much as she does love you, she just doesn’t want to risk it and plus she loves her job!”

“i know daniel, i know! but i miss her too much and it’s not like i wouldn’t be able to support the bo-”

“max! you have to learn that y/n wants to be known as y/n not max verstappen's girlfriend, which already happens when you’re apart. what do you think would happen if she went with you hmm?”

it’s as if time has repeated itself as once again the call goes silent.

“i just love her too much to not be around her all the time. it’s as if i can only live when she’s around, and it’s probably true. y’know my mum told me that she’s never seen me as happy as she did when i was y/n, claiming that when she was in the toilet i wasn’t wearing the same smile i was when she got back. i know that she’s my future dan, my world and now i’ve gone and messed it up just like everything else. when i told her that this wasn’t going to work, i swear the look she gave me made me regret everything and yet i just stood there, looking adamant at my decision. even as she packed her things i said nothing, i watched her go and did nothing. who does that to the person they love? who just lets them go so easily and doesn’t fight for it? i need her back daniel but surely she won’t let me back into her heart when i’ve only just broken it.”

by the end of max’s ramble, daniel is sure he hears a few sniffles, though he’s not sure if it’s from him or max. 

“i’ll help you max.”

—

the very next morning, max is woken from his broken sleep by relentless knocks on his door, followed by the shouts of,

“max!” “let me in!” 

“what are you doing here daniel?”

daniel, doesn’t reply, instead reaching into his bag and tossing out a booklet. 

How to get the girl by daniel ricciardo 

“since the call last night, i’ve been making this guide on how to get y/n back and i swear if you follow these steps, then all will be good.” 

“oh really? this is what’ll take to get y/n back yeah? just a few simple steps?”

“well if you read it then you’d know what these ‘simple steps’ were.”

step one - go to her (preferably in the pouring rain)

so he does. 

‘stupid daniel’ max thinks, shivering in cold and dreary rain, waiting anxiously for you to open the door.

“hell- oh max. what are you doing here, it’s tipping down? are you insane?”

“i missed you.” is all max can say.

“you miss me? you broke up with me and then you have the audacity to say that you miss me?”

“i didn’t mean it y/n, i just really wanted you to come with me because i love you too much to live without me-”

“hang on, you’re saying that you wouldn’t be able to live without me and yet you did the only thing which meant i wasn’t in your life. max, you could’ve just let our life continue on as normal and then you would still have me but you didn’t.”

“y/n i’m a mess without you and i am so sorry for everything. i love you with my heart and without you i’m not me. i don’t know what came over me in that moment but i will never regret anything more than i did in that moment. you’re my soulmate y/n and i can’t continue living without you. i’ve lost sleep and i’m not the same person anymore. i’ve gotten snappier and i’m distancing myself from all my friends because i’m scared i’ll lose them too.”

“oh.”

step two - say nice things 

“i want you for worse or for better y/n and i would wait for thousands of years for you to come back to me and i wouldn’t regret it because it would mean i would have you again. i know i broke your heart but hopefully it means i can put it back together because i truly do love you y/n.”

“max you need to understand that it’ll take time for me to take you back because even though you regret it, i need to heal and maybe once i’ve healed i’ll let you back in. i do love you though max, always will and i thank you for loving me too.” 

“i won’t give up y/n, i’ll keep coming back.”

“i’ll be here max.”

step three - remind her how it use to be 

the second time max appeared at y/n’s, he found himself feeling much more confident than how he did during his first endeavour, daniel having given him some motivation. 

he takes a moment to breathe before knocking his fist on your door. 

“when you said you’d keep coming back i didn’t know you’d actually follow through with it.” 

“of course i would, i meant it when i said i wanted you back.”

you just stare at the man as he talks, arms crossed around your chest resting on your doorframe. 

“well… what do you have to say for yourself? or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me for half an hour?”

“well if you’re offerin-”

“max! get to the point please or i will close this door.” 

he only smiles, staring at your face, admiring you before coming to his senses and speaking once more. 

“i just wanted to remind you of the time we spent together, y'know. i mean i was just lying down on the sofa and just staring at some old photos and i was thinking of the nights where we would just stay and lay and cuddle. nights reserved just for you and i remember? or as soon as we both had time off work, then we’d just jet off to a new country and relax, tanning under the sun or skiing in the snow. we should do that soon, have a nice holiday to just relax and love each other, wouldn’t you just love that, a romantic holiday just for the pair of us?  i certainly would but we’d have to get back together first but i guess that’s why i’m here.” 

“that would be nice i guess but i could do that with any man, a man that wouldn’t selfishly try and get me to quit my job when he knows i love it so much.”

“they don’t know you like i do though y/n! they also don’t deserve someone as sweet and perfect as yo-”

“so what? that makes you the perfect man for me then?”

“yes it does as a matter of fact! i know that even though you say that you love redbull, you really wish that some other team was winning but you also love that i’m winning. you also say that you prefer dogs but jimmy and sassy are your only exceptions. i know that y/n and no other person knows that. you say that you don’t want kids but you can’t help but want them when you see luka and lio and yet you still always claim that you will forever be the cool aunt! i also know that even though you put up this strong front, i know that i hurt you and i know that i will have to fight hard for you but i promise y/n, i swear that i will fight for you, i really will.”

by the end of his speech, both yours and his ears are filled with tears.

“...max.. i don’t know what to say.”

“then don’t say anything but yes, don’t say anything but i trust you max. reassure me y/n, tell me that we still could be something, don’t give me false hope i swear. i know i messed up but i really didn’t mean it.” 

“i swear max, that if you fight for me hard enough, then i’ll let you back in.”

step four - Say more nice things!!! 

the next time you get a visit from max is a week later in the early hours of the day. 

knock. knock. knock. 

repeatedly max knocks his fist on the door, over and over. 

quickly you get up, rubbing your eyes, stretching your arms and legs as you walk across your apartment, yanking the door open. 

“max? what are you doing here? it’s…i don’t even know what time it is but it’s way too early for me to talk to you about this.”

“i couldn’t sleep y/n, you kept me awake, i couldn’t stop thinking about you and so that’s why i’m here. i’ve been losing sleep everyday anyway but tonight was just unbearable. i need you y/n, please.”

“come in max.”

so he does, walking towards the sofa when a cough breaks him out of his daydream.

“no max, if you can’t sleep then sleep in the bed.” 

max’s heart soars at the prospect of being back into your arms once more, which is why he immediately scoops you up into his arms and dumps you onto your bed, tucking the pair of you under the covers. 

it takes a few minutes of staring at the ceiling to finally break down and hold each other, you having the confidence to rest your head on his chest, that soothes you, listening to the beat of his heart. 

it’s silent before the sound of soft sobs are heard throughout the room. the sobs are then followed by shaking. it’s max. 

“i love you, so so much.” is all max can manage to get out. 

“i love you too max.” 

that’s all the reassurance he needs, both of you falling into a deep slumber holding each other, just as you always would.

and that’s how you get the girl.

a/n: so i didn't die but i've just been so unmotivated to write and i just keep coming up with new ideas but no words to go along with it but oh well! this is for 1989 tv xxx

[racinggirl]

unspoken words || max verstappen 1

type: one shot pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 3.5k summary: admitting your feelings isn't that easy, especially when the man you're having feelings for is your brother's best friend... requested: yes! I've combined multiple requests for this fic, simply because I feel like they all fit well together! ''PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE write something for max thank you I love you & hey! can i request something with max that's angst to fluff or possibly hurt/comfort? feel like that trope really suits max for whatever reason?? anyways thank you! + i love your writing <;3 & driverXbestfriends!sister with max and daniel’s sister plsss & max verstappen, enemies to lovers, drivers x driver or driver x driver/bestfriend!sister & Could you do one where the reader is drunk out of her mind coming back from a party/club then maybe she throws up and max just comforts her and helps her shower to get clean?'' requests are CLOSED!!! warnings: angst, alcohol, reader being drunk, anxiety (a little?), protective!max. notes: HOOOLY FCK this took long. I think I've been working on it for literal MONTHS. However, it's finished, and I really hope you like it. Please leave a comment or even a reblog, because it's really something that keeps me motivated other than a like. Don't read me wrong, I love to get likes, it's just that a comment feels a lot more personal! Also, it's been so long, I've had to look up one of my older fics to see how I used to make this set up thingy. It's been way too long and I've missed you all <3 P.S. Did you guess correctly who the brother was?

My masterlist

Formula 1, something you had grown up with ever since your brother decided it was his passion, his world. And it slowly became yours too. Accompanying him at races became a monthly habit, and even though you were still in college, you always found a way to support your brother from the garages in the pitlane. Starting in the Toro Rosso garage, making your way to the Redbull garage. Renault was the next place you’d find yourself, and it all ended last year, in the McLaren garages.

It was a time of uncertainty for both Daniel and your family, as you knew how much love your brother had for the motorsports. He always mentioned that he’d rather live racing, than race living, because that’s what, according to him, wasn’t the goal in life. You had to enjoy every moment of your life, something he would often refer to as ‘enjoy the butterflies’.

The uncertainty soon ended when Daniel told you he was going back to Redbull. ‘’But you must keep it quiet, little one.’’ He told you with a smirk plastered on his face. ‘’Oh my god, are you for real? That’s incredible, Dandan! I’m so proud of you!’’ That was your first reaction, because you were beyond excited for your brother. Even if it was as a reserve driver, you couldn’t obtain your excitement.

It wasn’t just because of Daniel you were a Redbull fan, but ever since 2016, you had secretly started to admire the team more and more. Sure, your brother had always been your idol, and you couldn’t help but feel an intense rush of pride every time he got behind the wheel. But your attention wasn’t solely focussed on him.

Max Verstappen, currently one of the best drivers on the grid, and one of your brothers’ best friends, was the reason you could feel your heart pounding against your chest once you stepped foot back into the navy-blue garages. You and Max had known each other for quite a few years now, ever since he joined the Redbull team back in 2016. He was a few years older than you, and your admiration for him slowly grew into something more.

His talent, charm, and his fierce determination were something you found yourself captivated by, and it only grew more every time you saw him. But you were just Daniel’s little sister, at least you thought.

Monaco 2023, the Grand Prix of Europe, where the high class, fancy people wandering the paddock made you feel like a teenage schoolgirl on your first day of university. Even though you were twenty-three years old, and couldn’t complain about the money you had, you were never one to dress like you were attending a royal wedding.

You were watching the cars, and then looked at your brother, who was dressed in his Redbull polo, seated on the pitwall whilst you were standing in the back of the garage, him watching the screens. As soon as the camera turned to capture the Australian man on the pitwall, you could hear the crowd go absolutely wild. They loved him, and so did you.

After the race, you made your way over towards your brother’s apartment, changing your outfit for something more afterparty worthy. That’s where you were going, and you knew it was one of the few chances you had of being close to Max.

Realising the feelings you had for Max were more than just friendly, brought a bittersweet taste to those afterparty’s, because you knew Max probably didn’t feel the same about you. You always did your best to hide your emotions, burying them deep inside so that nobody, not even Max, could catch a glimpse of your true feelings. It was a delicate balancing act, pretending to be just friends while your heart yearned for something more.

‘’Hey, congrats on your win.’’ You embraced the Dutch driver as he was quick in placing his arms around your body, pulling you in for a friendly hug.

‘’Thanks, y/n, I’m glad you’re here.’’ He partially shouted over the music, your cheeks heating up at the thought of what he meant, or what you thought he meant.

You quickly shook that thought away and nodded at him, shooting your shiny smile, the one you and your brother had in common, and you pulled yourself away from his hug.

As the night went on, both you and Max were sharing stories and naked truths, finding yourself on a conversation that went beyond your usual banter. The alcohol loosened your inhibitions, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. It was dangerous territory, and you both knew it.

‘’Naked truth coming.’’ He said, leaning against the wall in front of you as you stood facing him, the blue coloured cocktail in your hand. Your eyes went over his features as he licked his lips, ready to tell you one of his naked truths.

‘’I’m not going to sign a new contract after this one.’’ He smirked, watching you, looking for your response. You weren’t surprised, to be fair. You kind of did see it coming, because there have been quite some rumours going around lately. But you did feel privileged as he trusted you enough to say this. It might be due to the alcohol he had burning in his system, but you liked it, you liked this intoxicated version of Max, because this way you could be close to him, without anyone thinking anything.

‘’Your turn.’’ He smirked, stepping a little closer and you could swear you felt his body heat warming you up, even though you were still a meter apart from each other. Your mind was trying to come up with something, because you had to be careful of what to say. You wanted to tell him about your feelings, you wanted to speak the words that had been dancing on the tip of your tongue for so long now, but you couldn’t, and you hated it.

‘’I think I’m in love with one of Daniel’s friends’’ you managed to spill, avoiding his eyes as you immediately tried to wash your mouth with the alcohol in the cup you were holding. You searched for the straw with your tongue, sucking the burning liquid through the straw, all the way to your throat, as if it made your words less harsh.

‘’Really?’’ Max answered, clearly not expecting this kind of naked truth coming out of your mouth. ‘’Who?’’ He immediately shot this question after the other, wanting to know which guy stole your heart, but little did he know.

‘’Do I know him?’’ You could almost facepalm yourself at the awkwardness, because now you knew you had to lie to the world champion. ‘’No, I mean, I don’t think so…’’ you simply replied.

As you continued to avoid Max’ gaze, you felt a mixture of relief and regret for not being completely honest with him. Regret, because you wanted to tell him the truth, you didn’t want to hide your true feelings any longer, but relief, because you knew that if you would have spoken the truth, things would have become more than awkward between the two of you. Besides, what were the chances that he would feel the same way about you?

However, Max’ eyes did not leave your face, trying to study your expression for a moment, he was seemingly lost in thought. The weight of his silence was hanging in the air, and you could almost hear a pin drop. Your heart was racing with anticipation, but then he finally let out a deep breath, breaking the heavy silence.

‘’Well, whoever it is, they are a lucky person,’’ he said softly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his eyes. Happiness? Sadness? Jealousy? Relief? You couldn’t place it. However, you started to remind yourself that he probably wasn’t talking about you, but that it must have been a general statement, a well-intentioned compliment.

As the night wore on, the music became a distant hum, the conversations of the people around you started to fade as you let the alcohol numb your feelings. It was one way of forgetting them, or at least, not having to think of them. The tension between you and Max was heavier than before, and it was as if the universe wanted to test you, pushing you closer to the edge of admitting your true feelings.

With each sip, each passing moment, your longing for Max intensified, but the fear of rejection held you back from speaking the unspoken words. You knew that crossing that thin line of friendship with Max could change everything, although you weren’t sure if you wanted to take that risk.

As the afterparty came to an end, you stumbled out into the cool night air, the city lights blurred before your eyes as you faced reality. Max didn’t love you, and the love you had for him would forever be unspoken.

‘’There you are!’’ You heard a faint voice, a pair of arms holding you by your elbows as you saw the man in front of you. ‘’Jesus, how much alcohol have you had?’’ Daniel had a concerned yet relieved expression on his face as he embraced you in a hug.  

When you entered what you thought was Daniel’s apartment, alone, you immediately located yourself on the nearest couch, laying down as your stomach started to twist and turn because of the litres of alcoholic beverages you had been consuming this night. Your hand was fumbling around in your bag the moment you felt something buzz, and without blinking, you answered the phone call you were receiving.

‘’Hello… y/n?... where are you?... hello?’’

‘’Hello,’’ you managed to croak into the phone, your voice barely audible as you fought off the dizziness and nausea that threatened to consume you. ‘’I’m… I’m at Daniel’s… apartment.’’

The voice on the other end of the line sounded frantic. It was Max. ‘’Y/n, stay there. Don’t move, I’m coming to get you.’’ His tone was laced with worry, and you could hear the urgency in his voice.

As you waited, your mind started to spin, mainly because of the alcohol, but also because of the confusion. Was Max coming over because he was genuinely concerned about your wellbeing, or was he just being a good friend to both you and Daniel?

Minutes felt like hours as you lay on the couch, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. Finally, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the apartment. The door swung open, and there stood Max, breathless and confused at the same time. His eyes widened as he took in your state, and he rushed to your side, concern etched deep into him.

‘’What happened, y/n? Are you okay?’’ Max’ voice was filled with genuine worry, his hands gently cradling your face as he tried to assess your condition.

You forced a weak smile, trying to make Max feel a little more at ease about the situation. ‘’I… I had a bit too much to drink. I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to worry you.’’

His eyes saw straight through you, his gaze piercing into yours, his worry transitioning into a mix of frustration and tenderness. ‘’You should have known better, y/n. Drinking yourself into this state… it’s not like you.’’ His words were filled with disappointment, and you felt a stab of guilt pierce through your already shattered heart.

He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water, his touch gentle, but you felt every nerve on your skin tingling with his touch. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of his disappointment, causing you to feel even more ashamed of what you had managed to get yourself into. It was as if your actions, your decisions to drink more alcohol than you could consume to keep a somewhat sober state, caused your friendship with Max to become even more tensed.

‘’I know,’’ you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you took a sip of water, hoping it would wash away not only the physical effects of the alcohol, but also the mistakes you had made. ‘’I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.’’

His expression softened a little, but the tension remained. ‘’You didn’t disappoint me,’’ he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of genuine concern, but also a slight frustration. Was he frustrated with himself for making you feel as if he was disappointed, or was he frustrated with you, for putting yourself in this kind of state?

‘’I’m just worried about you, y/n. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you like this… it hurts.’’

The honesty in his words made you tear up, tears welling up in your eyes. You had been longing for a moment like this, a chance to be vulnerable with Max, but not like this. ‘’Why did you let yourself get this drunk, y/n, you’re never drunk, you hate being drunk.’’

You knew he was right, and that made you feel even worse, because he knew you so well, your friendship had grown into such a big thing, that you feared breaking it. You were scared of crossing that thin line, and losing Max, both as a friend, and possibly something more than that.

But you knew you had to spill the words, because the pain of keeping your feelings bottled up was becoming unbearable, even if the fear of rejection still lingered.

‘’I…’’ You started, trying to one by one collect the words, the words that would cause either a lot of damage, or a lot of relief. ‘’I’m sorry for everything. I just can’t hide it anymore. I’m sorry for hiding my feelings, for not being honest with you. I… I love you, Max. I’ve loved you for so long, and it’s tearing me apart. I thought maybe if I’d get wasted, I’d stop the pain in my chest, at least for this evening. Because I couldn’t bear it anymore, it hurts.’’

The room fell silent as your confession hung in the air, the weight of your emotions suffocating you. Max’ eyes widened, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decipher the truth behind your words.

‘’Y/n,’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible. ‘’I… I had no idea.’’

This could go two ways, and that mixture of hope and fear filled you up, danced within you as you waited for Max to speak again, you had to know if he felt the same way. But before he could respond, a voice broke through the tension that had been built up, slicing through the moment of vulnerability you were in right now.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Daniel’s voice boomed from the doorway, his eyes filled with concern and confusion as he took in the scene before him.

You quickly managed to stand up, your hand rising to wipe the tears that were on your skin, the rawness of your emotions leaving you in a horrible situation right now. Max stood up as well, his gaze shifting between you and Daniel. He was lost for words, and it was evident on his face.

‘’Daniel, I…’’ you began, struggling to find the right words, how were you going to explain to him that you just confessed your feelings to one of his best mates? You didn’t have to, because your brother held his hand up, cutting you off.

‘’Not now,’’ he said firmly, his voice filled with a mix of protectiveness and disappointment. ‘’Y/n, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.’’

And so, days went on, you explained Daniel you just drank a little too much, and that Max was there to bring you home, and waited till he would arrive home so Max could go to his own apartment. You hated lying to your brother, because you two were so close, and you felt as if the tension with Max now also elongated to you and your brother.

It was race weekend, yet again, and you and Max had avoided each other the entire week already. You never received an answer from him, after you poured your heart out, explaining to him you had been in love with him for a while now.

Every time you saw Verstappen in the paddock, you felt a pang of regret, wishing you had never revealed your true feelings. Those once unspoken words were better than the distance the two of you had now, the pain of those unspoken feelings was better than the pain you felt every time you saw the Dutch man.

It became harder to pretend everything was normal when the truth hung in the air, casting a shadow over your interactions. The once vibrant friendship between you and Max seemed to fade, replaced by awkward glances and strained conversations. The pitlane, once a place of excitement and joy, now felt suffocating, reminding you of what you could never have. Max.

As the season progressed, you found your strength in supporting your brother at Alpha Tauri and throwing yourself into your studies. You buried your emotions deep within, trying to move on from the pain of rejection. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Max lingered the corners of your mind, constantly reminding you of those words that were no longer unspoken.

Months passed, and the distance between you and Max only grew wider. The dynamics within the team had shifted, mostly because Daniel was no longer in the same garages as Max was. This made you feel like an outsider, looking in. The once close group Daniel would bring you along in, was now separated, fragmented, and you longed for days when everything was simpler, when your love for Formula 1 brought you together rather than tearing you apart.

One evening, as you sat alone in Daniel’s apartment, as he was in Italy for some meetings for Alpha Tauri, you received a text message from a not unknown number. Curiosity and a glimmer of hope filled your heart as you read the words on the screen.

‘It’s Max. Can we meet and talk? I need to apologize.’

Your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. You agreed to meet him the next day at Daniel’s apartment, knowing your brother wouldn’t be home this week anyways. He gave you full responsibility for the apartment.

When you opened the door and saw Max standing there, you couldn’t help but notice the weariness in his eyes. He looked nervous, his usually confidence replaced by vulnerability. As he walked inside the apartment, he sat down after you gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa.

‘’I’m sorry, y/n,’’ he began, his voiced laced with regret. ‘’I didn’t handle things well after you confessed your feelings. I was caught off guard, and I didn’t know how to respond. I let our friendship suffer because of it, and I’m sorry.’’

You sat up straight, taking a deep breath to maintain your somewhat calm heart. You had missed the connection you once shared with him, and hearing him acknowledge his mistakes brought a sense of relief. Even though your feelings for him were still very much apparent, you’d rather deal with that pain, than the pain of never seeing him again.

‘’I understand,’’ you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and forgiveness. ‘’It’s not easy for either of us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship, but the feelings became too much to bear.’’

Max reached across the couch and gently took your hand in his, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. ‘’I’ve been doing some soul-searching, y/n. I realised that I’ve been pushing my own feelings aside because I was afraid of losing what we had. I guess you just had more balls to admit it, which made me think.’’

Your heart skipped a beat, hoping flickering within you. ‘’What are you saying, Max?’’

He took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. ‘’I’m saying that I’ve come to realise how much you mean to me. I’ve been blind to the love that’s been right in front of me all this time. I don’t want to let fear hold me back anymore. I want to give us a chance.’’

The emotions you were feeling at this moment were all over the place – joy, relief, and a renewed sense of hope. The pain and regret that had haunted you for so long began to dissipate, replaced by the possibility of something beautiful.

‘’I want that too, Max. I’ve been forcing myself to get a grip and end my feelings, but I couldn’t. I’ve never stopped loving you.’’

In that moment, the weight of unspoken words lifted, and the hand Max was holding a few seconds ago found itself at his cheek. His hands slowly moved from your arms to your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his.

‘’May I?’’ He whispered, his voice so delicate, gentle, barely above a whisper. You always imagined your kiss with Max to be out of this world, but the tender feeling of his lips, the smell of his minty breath and his hands caressing your cheeks as if you were a porcelain doll were more than you could ever imagine.

[bebx]

random don’ts in fanfic writing!

a disclaimer that these are just some suggestions from a fellow fic writer & you don’t have to agree with everything I list here. the intention of this isn’t to shame anyone but to only offer advices I personally take.

I hope you’ll find at least one of these useful.

don’t go “the taller man looks at her with a smile on his face” or “the blonde girl laughs, feeling his eyes on her” on characters whose names are already known by the readers. I admit that this is something I used to do for so long because I thought it was cool, until I learned it’s just unrealistic, because normally, if you know someone; say, if they’re your friend, you don’t call them “the taller man” or “the blonde girl” or “the older man”, you call them by their names. so unless your readers aren’t supposed to know the names of these characters yet, just say “Justin looks at her with a smile on his face” or “Sarah laughs, feeling his eyes on her” — it feels more natural this way.

don’t give readers your personal feelings. “the walls are closing in, and he still has trouble standing up on unsteady legs. panic’s making it hard to breathe as he realizes he’s going to die. what will poor Daniel do now?” — “poor” in this case is the author’s opinion, how they feel about their character. it’s unnecessary to add in your work because, with all due respect, it can make the whole thing sound like a children’s book where readers are not capable of knowing how they’re supposed to feel in this scene and so they need the author to tell them how to feel. unless you’re writing something specifically for kids, don’t do this. don’t insult your readers’ intelligence by constantly guiding them how they should feel about this particular character in this particular situation. your readers are not kids. they are perfectly capable of knowing how they feel. they will feel sorry for the character on their own. they will read your work and think “oh no, poor guy. how will he get out of this now?” on their own. you, as the author, don’t have to tell them to be sorry for the character.

don’t outright underestimate your own work. being humble is a good thing, but sometimes you just have to be proud. don’t directly say “this sucks” or “I don’t really like how this turned out” in the author’s note, it can actually drive readers away from your fic. it drove me away from a fic so many times. and it’s a shame, because I really believe your readers — I really believe I — would’ve loved your fic if they’d — if I had — given it a chance. but the disclaimer that outright says “this isn’t good” from the author themself is unfortunately more than enough a reason as to why readers decide not to read it altogether. so… don’t say that. you can be unsatisfied with your work, but your readers don’t have to know that. hell, they might even love it. so, yeah, be proud.

don’t replace eyes with orbs. I… admit that I frequently did this during my Wattpad phase, and it’s actively haunting my nightmares to this day. I guarantee you that you can just say eyes. “she looks right into his eyes” yes, you can say this, and it will always sound more professional in terms of writing than “she looks right into his beautiful blue orbs” which, if I’m being brutally honest, “orbs” used to describe eyes just makes it all sounds like a school essay where we purposefully use fancy words so that our teachers know we have those words memorized in our vocabulary. but yeah… it’s painfully cringe to call eyes orbs and it almost always makes me want to just stop reading your work, and I mean this with utter respect. don’t make the same mistake I made when I was an emo teenager. if you really must have to use other word that isn’t “eyes” just call them face balls or something (I’m joking, please don’t actually call them face balls). but seriously, literally anything that isn’t orbs. just… call them eyes. it’s already perfect.

don’t replace world with planet, if your work doesn’t include theme about space/sci-fi or if you’re not describing an actual planet (as in climate change towards the planet or a lost planet that’s never been found, for instance). — world and planet give readers two very different feelings. if you’re describing an antagonist, who is not a literal alien from another planet, whose plan is to corrupt or take over the world, just say world. “he knows he will watch the world burn in the end” sounds more aesthetically appealing and more professionally interesting than “he will destroy this beautiful planet” because, honestly, the latter sounds like I’m reading a fic about climate change, which yeah… unless you’re writing a fic about climate change, just avoid using the word planet in context like this and you’re good.

don’t avoid the use of Capital Letters at the beginning of a sentence and when you’re mentioning a specific name while writing a fic. you’re probably thinking I’m being the biggest hypocrite right now, because I’ve literally been deliberately using all lowercase phrases this entire post. I mean that’s because this is just a Tumblr post, not an actual AO3 fic. listen, I know writing fic is a hoppy, not a job. but if you really want to have your readers feel like they’re reading an actual novel while reading your work, I promise you the use of Capital Letters is your best friend, don’t neglect them.

*smut below the cut*

don’t replace cock with penis. I won’t go too deep here (no pun intended HELP💀) but cock sounds sexy, exciting and fun. while penis sounds like you’re describing a human anatomy during a lecture. smut is supposed to make readers feel aroused. it’s not supposed to make them feel like they’re reading a text book or are studying for an exam.

don’t replace cunt with pussy. in my very humble opinion, while talking about smut, cunt sounds explicit, raw, erotically mysterious and is overall a turn on while… I don’t know, reading the word pussy just doesn’t make me go AAAAAAHHHH the way reading the word cunt does (just my guess but maybe it’s because the word “pussy” is overused; we call everything a pussy nowadays that it just lost its meaning). also, from 99% of the smut I’ve read, it’s more professionally written if the author uses cunt instead of pussy.

***also, for the same reason why we don’t replace cock with penis in a smut fic, please don’t use the word vagina unless you’re preparing your readers for their anatomy class.

[stubz]

Goodbye

"Have a good summer Pollix! See you in September Zyz! Have fun in the Lakes of Nebula Ezshi!"

Today was the last day of the youngling centre and the first day of summer vacation. Although according to the Captain and his second in command it's the Galactic Solar Solstice. But Kim and Max preferred to call it summer.

Both humans walked around the centre saying goodbye and farewell to the younglings. Many of whom gave hugs or small gifts as a sign of thanks or respect in their respective culture and planet.

All but two children who stood away from the others. Looking not as happy as the others.

"Hey. Look." Max nudged his friend to the two kids.

"Ah...Sam and Dan." together the two walked towards them.

.

"Where's Kim and Max?"

"They're over there."

"What are they doing?"

"I think they're checking on Sam and Dan."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Look they're hugging. Maybe they're just sad that we won't see them for a long time."

"Probably. Lets play!"

..

"Teacher?"

"Yes Emira?"

"Why did you hug Sam and Danny longer than any of us?"

"Oh...because this is probably the last time I'll see them."

"Why??"

"Sam and Dan are leaving. They're going to a new school. One that's on Earth and we live in different parts of Earth so this is probably the last I'll see them."

"But your only supposed to have one teacher! They can't just leave!"

"Humans are different. We don't have one teacher all our school life. We have different teachers and can change schools."

"Even if you really like your teacher?"

"Even if you really like your teacher."

"Even if you really like your friends and classmates?"

"Even if you really like your friends and classmates. It's not always easy."

They stand in silence. Emira's feathers ruffling as she thinks.

"That must be sad." she finally says.

"It is. Sam and Dan tried to convince us to go work at the new school they'll be going to. They were pretty sad today too but we told them to remember the good memories we have-"

"No I mean for teachers."

"..."

"I know they were the first ones here. They love you a lot, Danny even called you both Mom and Dad before. And I know you both love them."

"...Your quite observant Emira. You know what that means?"

"I'm good at noticing things."

"Yeah. I don't have siblings like Kim and I'm actually not that much older than Sam. I'm the same age as their oldest brother...and to be honest they sometimes felt like my younger brothers."

"So you're going to miss them a lot?"

"Yes. Kim has done this before but this is my first time. Kinda sucks that its with kids I've known for over 3 years..."

"Do you want a hug?"

He nodded and the little avian hugged him.

...

"Max!"

"Hey Kim."

"I got something for you."

"Thanks...but my birthday isn't till next week?"

"Not from me, from Sam and Dan." she handed him the wrapped up gift.

He slowly opened it. It was light, like a feather, and was the size of a picture frame. It was a black screen.

"What is it?"

"Tap the screen."

He did and the screen lit up. Dozens of holographic pictures shot out from it. Most were from class field trips and events but were zoomed in on him and the two brothers. Some he doesn't remember Kim taking but he remembers the time the place.

"I got one too. It started out as a gift for the boys so they could remember us but then they and their parents wanted to return the favor so they made an extra two for us. Some of these are from the parents." she explained smiling at the biggest picture of the boys holding a sign saying 'Thank you for the memories, love Samuel and Daniel'

"..."

"I know I don't show it but I'm gonna miss them too. It does get easier with each time but you never stop missing the kid. Remember the kid I told you about, Penny?"

"The girl who gave you 3 stitches?"

"She was my first goodbye. She was at the preschool I first started at. Sweet, kind, a little ankle biter, but I really liked her. I had known her for 3 years when she left."

"...I'm really gonna miss them." he sighs, slumping towards his friend. She holds him in a side hug.

"I know buddy, me too...me too" they looked at the pictures in silence and if one of them let a tear fall then that was nobodies business but their own.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Anyway I can request a Christian Cage x Copeland!Reader fic? The reader is married to Christian and they have their own little family together and while Adam is under the influence of Malakai Black’s mist he ends up injuring his baby sister since when he sees her it reminds him of the long standing feud he and his childhood best friend and his baby sister’s husband just went through and when Adam ends up hurting her, Christian makes sure to do everything in his power to make sure the love of his life is taken care of and protected?

The Kings of The Black Throne

Christian Cage X fem reader

Warnings: Blood, violence, injury

Main Masterlist Christian Cage Masterlist

An: I wrote another Christian Cage x Adam Copelands little sister fic that you can find HERE if you are interested. (I quite enjoy that fic)

For weeks now The House of Black had been after Adam. I watched on a weekly basis as the men beat him to a pulp and tried to brainwash him into joining their group. At first I enjoyed watching the torturous events take place but now I couldn't help but feel that all of this was more than getting Adam to join their cult. “Are you alright? You seem on edge?” Christian asked me. “I just have a bad feeling about all of this” “Why? You should be happy he’s finally leaving us alone” Christian told me. “I know but what could The House of Black want from him. Truly. He has nothing to offer them Christian. I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe there's something bigger going on here” Christian had a point, I should have been happy that Adam was finally leaving us alone. He’s done nothing but cause trouble since the moment he stepped in AEW. He still couldn't accept the relationship between Christian and I. 15 years and three kids later he still couldn't accept it. He tried to tear my family apart, he tried to take the TNT title but of course he was no match for the patriarchy. 

Tonight our adopted son Nick Wayne was scheduled to have a match against Daniel Garcia on Dynamite. As the two of us got ready to go I ended up running into Adam, he had a dark look in his eyes. I didn’t think much of it, we had a match to win. The match was going well, everything was according to plan when all of a sudden the lights went out. Out of instinct I jumped into the ring and stood in front of Nick. That gut feeling had returned and was stronger than ever. Just then the lights turned on. I should have known The House of Black would be behind all of this. What did they want from us? “What the fuck do you want?” I spat at Malakai. “Trust me when I say it’s not you that I want. Who I’m after is your brother, Adam Copeland” “You can have him, I don’t fucking want him” “I really don’t want to be doing this sweatheart, I actually admire you but as much as you hate your brother I know he loves you” What was he talking about? Just then I felt it. The burning sensation of Malakai’s Mist. I could hear Nick’s screams of help but I couldn't do anything, I had been blinded by the mist. I was defenseless, Brody and Buddy held me down while Julia handcuffed Nick to the ring ropes. I couldn't see much but I noticed a dark figure match down towards the ring. I assumed it was Christian but was shocked when I saw Adam stand before me. 

“This is your final test” Malakai said to Adam as he handed him a steel chair. “Do it” he spat. “Think about all the harm she has caused you. Think about what she put you through. She cost you the TNT championship, she cost you your best friend. You are all alone Adam, your family, everyone you loved, gone. All of this is Y/n’s fault. Prove to us you are worthy. Join us, join us as we take over All Elite Wrestling. Join us on our quest to capturing the TNT championship” 

I knew it, I knew they were using him. They wanted to use me to get to Adam to get to Christian. It was a long plan, they took months planning this. Would it have been easier to ask Christian for a title shot? Absolutely but I must say I respected this plan of theirs. 

I could see the hesitation in Adam’s eyes. He couldn't do it, he was too weak. Just then I saw Julia whisper something in Adam’s ear. I didn’t know what she told him but I could see the effect it had on him. His eyes had turned black, the look on his face was cold and dead. They stole his soul. I don’t know what happened after that. All I remembered was waking up in a hospital bed. 

“You’re awake, how are you feeling baby?” Christian asked me carefully. “Where’s Nick?” I asked “Is he okay?” “Nick’s fine, he’s okay. It’s you that I’m worried about” He said as he carefully brushed his fingers on the fresh stitched on my skull. “What happened to you?” I asked him as I noticed his busted lip. “You were right about The House of Black. They attacked you honey. I tried to get out there but they locked me and Luchasaurus in our locker room. When I got there it was too late, I’m so sorry baby” I could see the tears start to form in his eyes as he spoke. “I should have listened to you, I should have been there to protect you. I failed you” I carefully wiped the tears that fell from his face. “It's okay, I’m okay” I told him reassuringly “No it’s not okay. I had to watch Adam crack your skull open with that chair and I could do nothing about it. I couldn't do anything when you were blinded by that mist. I watched them beat you to unconscious and I could do nothing about it. I really hoped my issues with Adam were over but it seems like they have just begun. I promise that I will do everything I can to get my revenge. I am going to take out the house of black one by one before I kill Adam with my bare hands. I will not rest until they pay for what they have done.” 

[savagewildnerness]

Oh Armand!

Louis shows Armand in this episode that he does not love him.  How else is there to take the cruelty of Louis’ words to Armand, combined with his clear yearning for Lestat?

But Armand - who on understanding this, should leave for his own sake, cannot leave and be alone - that's terrifying to him!  He needs something external to himself to fill him up.  

So instead, Armand looks to Daniel.  What makes Louis fascinated by Daniel?  How can I be that?  How can I become a thing Louis could love?  

And he looks at Louis?  How could Louis love me?  Maybe this is part of why he seeks Lestat out, not only for Louis but to understand what it is between them. And when he feels the purity of Lestat’s love for Louis (all Armand ever wanted from Lestat himself, it is too much.)

Now Armand knows… I need to be fascinating ANF Louis needs to truly hate Lestat so he can love me.  These are things Armand has powers to do something about.

It is really is pitiable and tragic that Armand would rather create some false love to keep Louis beside him than have some self agency and leave and seek out someone to love him for himself.  

But it's also awful of Louis, who has always known deep down, and more recently, more consciously it seems Louis has known he doesn't love Armand, and yet Louis stays... increasingly resentful.  Bored.  And yet also not leaving.

I think the next stage of Devil’s Minion might be a discovery that in the intervening years Armand has often stalked Daniel like he does in DM chapter… but maybe he watches most of the time & doesn’t intervene. if he does actually intervene, then he must wipe Daniel’s mind if himself every single time (& maybe that is how it is!?) Eithet way, I definitely don’t think Armand hasn’t seen Daniel since 1973…

[oonajaeadira]

This Will Be The Day That I Spy - Part 1: Blindsided

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle / Jack Daniels

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Reader: Bold, smart female, not easily fazed, always open for an adventure. Has a chemistry degree and is a spirits distiller by trade. No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Rating: T

Warnings: darkness, enclosed spaces, and Jack Daniels being a flirt.

Summary: A blind date with Jack Daniels does not go according to anyone’s plan…and that’s what makes it interesting.

A/N: For my March entry for Year of Tropes  as part of @yearofcreation2023​ we’re going for BLIND DATE+. The + is there because I couldn’t decide between two tropes for this fic, so there will be another one tackled in part two.

It was the construction that pushed you in the door to the swanky Manhattan high-rise. Ginger wasn’t kidding, this guy must be loaded. Not your usual fare, rich guys, but Ginger assured you he was a sweet, Southern gentleman…if you could get past the hokey name. And the corny compliments. And something about a belt buckle….?

“I’m not looking for a sugar daddy, Ginge,” you’d pleaded over the video call. “If that’s what he’s expecting–”

“It’s not. Believe me. I only suggested he meet with you to springboard your network in New York and look over your portfolio. He’s impressed with your background and your work at Herlot Watt, but…” your old friend’s lips pressed together in an otherwise controlled flickered moment of frustration, “then he saw your picture and asked me what you were like when we were in college and I figured I’d just cut to the chase and set you up. One thing you should know about Jack is that he thinks he’s being subtle. But that man is never subtle.”

“So you’re saying he’s rich but tedious and you think that’s a good match for me.”

“No! I’m sorry. No.” She adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses, doing her best to hide a knowing smile. “Jack is…he tries. He’s a romantic at heart. He really is. But he’s been alone too long and I think he knows it.”

“Wait. Is this that CEO that flirts with every woman he sees? That one boss that irritates you to hell???”

Ginger let out a long, measured breath. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“You forget that I was trained in a multitude of forensics. And I know when you’re lying.”

“You know when I’m lying because we shared an apartment and you’ve held my hair while I was puking.”

“That too.” Ginger was never known for having a tender heart, but every once in a while, she’d let you see it. “Listen, dearest. I promise you, his personality fills up a room. But I’ve known him long enough to see that it’s a diversionary tactic. He’s got a deep core of honor in him. And if you meet him and sparks don’t fly, he will still open doors for you in the distilling biz, I promise.”

“This is the Manners Maketh Man guy, isn’t it.”

“I didn’t realize I’d told you so much about him.”

“Less told and more complained. You’re throwing me to the wolves here, Ginge. At least tell me he’s good looking.”

One sly corner of her mouth raised. “He does alright. I think you’ll find him acceptable to your tastes.”

“What’s that look for??”

“Nothing,” she cooly mused, “I’m just curious to see if my hypothesis is correct. Friday night, 7pm, rooftop restaurant of the Calgary Suites. I’ll send you the coordinates. Enjoy.”

As she leaned forward to end the call you told her to “wait–I’m not one of your experiments!” but with a click she was gone, nothing but a white afterimage on a black screen in glorious negative relief.

Well. If nothing else, he sounded like a challenge. And you like a good challenge.

So on a balmy Friday night you found yourself gaping up up up the reach of the Calgary against the twilit sky, towering over Central Park at your back, smelling the reek of a life too expensive for your tastes and instinctively turning on your heel to walk away.

What stopped you was the restoration scaffolding enclosing the building under which you were standing. Or rather, the way it shuddered. And the way a large pole fell on its end with a clang to the sidewalk where you’d just passed a moment ago, tipping slowly out into the street. Nobody was hurt but the screams and concrete crack and sudden blaring of horns spelled out a true disaster in front of you.

Where someone else might have been rattled and shocked, all it did was give you perspective.

Fuck it. Let’s do this. Can’t be a worse disaster than this, right?

“I can call up for you, ma’am. What suite?” The doorman at your elbow brings you back to the moment.

“Uh, no, uh, I’m sorry. Daniels? I’m actually meeting him at the rooftop restaurant.”

“This way, ma’am. So sorry about all of this.” He seems nervous, a little shaken by the victimless accident outside, anxious to put all to rights and it looks like you’re something he can fix. You follow him to the elevator bank, letting the sleek extravagance of the lobby wash over you.

Once an elevator arrives, there’s a swipe of a key card, a little door opens to a small button that gets tapped, a friendly nod, and the doorman backs out of the elevator, smiling as the door quietly slides shut.

Well. That decides that then. Might as well just ride this out.

Looking at your reflection in the polished doors, you try to see yourself for the first time. Are you shoddy looking? At least clean and tidy? Would you ever find yourself really fitting in at a place like this? A little lip tint might help, if for nothing than confidence…

In an attempt to look at anything but yourself, you reach into your purse to find a gloss or lipstick or balm, something with some color, and are so occupied that when the elevator stops and the doors open, you simply step back and to the side to let the new passenger in.

Once you’re in upward motion again, you find what you’re looking for, turning to apply it in the reflection of the polished wall. Finishing and taking in the final effect, a smooth baritone rolls from behind you.

“Pardon me, ma’am, but are you–”

You just start to turn–just enough time to catch a black Stetson and tie, a charcoal blazer and painted-on denim, just enough time to register the deep chestnut hair and mustache, just a fleeting twinkle of a dark eye and a silver buckle–before the world goes black.

A jolt shakes the box you’re in and it comes to a rude halt, then another harsher one as the generator initially kicks in but fails before it’s begun, and you feel yourself stumbling backward through a pitch black void, banging your shoulder and then head against a polished metal wall.

“Owwwwww.” A bright light pierces the blackout; not from the spark of pain but rather a phone flashlight. “Hey!”

“My apologies,” your fellow passenger says and the light swings out of your eyeline. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…surprised.”

“Okay, that’s good. Hold on a minute, sugar.” The light goes out, replaced by the display backlight shining onto the man. It’s dimmer, but you can make out his thumb tapping out a few numbers and the line of a strong jaw as he lifts the phone up to his ear. “We’ll see what’s spooked the horses.” A few distant rings. A few more.

Sugar? Sugar?? Excuse him??? Wait. No. Wait. Is he–

A distant answer through the phone. “Sir?”

The man is calm and steady, respectful and patient. “Howdy, Jones. I’m in elevator 3 with another passenger and we’re in a stall and blackout. What’s the situation?”

“I’m so sorry, sir! We think it might be the construction outside, perhaps a wiring issue. There was an accident. We’re working to get it fixed as soon as we can. Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, we’re fine. No worries. You wanna call up top and let them know I’m going to be late for my reservation?”

“Of course Mr. Daniels. Although, they’ll be in blackout too; the whole building is… Oh! Your guest was just–”

“Yes, she’s in here with me. I believe…” He turns to face you in the shadows as if he can see you past the light of his phone.

The silence that follows is a bit too long and fills itself with the collection of regrets–the outside accident, the elevator stop, the darkness, being stuck in a box with the potential employer slash begrudgingly blind date that you’d rather meet under literally any other circumstance. What a disaster.

And then you realize that the silence is too long and it’s your fault, that he’s waiting for you to confirm who you are and you stutter out a “Yes. Yes, it’s me, I’m…I’m your–” just as he is about to ask you again.

“Yeah, it’s her, Jones. I got ‘er.”

“I guess that’s both a good and bad thing, sir. But at least you both have company, right?”

“Jones.”

“Sorry, Mr. Daniels. Just trying to make light. Ha! No pun intended!” The doorman’s laugh roars and then awkwardly fades through the receiver. “We’ll do our best to get you up and running again, sir.”

An abrupt return to absolute blackness comes when the call ends and you hear a small shuffle as he puts his phone back into his blazer pocket. Then there’s a beep--like a notification--but he doesn’t answer it. “Well shit, you went through the effort to put the last shine on the boot and I don’t even get to enjoy it.”

“The…boot?”

“The lipstick? Your face.”

“Excuse me?” Ooof. This guy really has some kind of cowboy schtick going on. 

A chuckle in the darkness. “I’m Jack. Ginger’s told me a lot about you. Said you had some bite.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels,” you say, hoping your voice carries a smile rather than the tingle in your spine. “I assure you I’m harmless. If there was light, I’d shake your hand.”

“I prefer Jack. And if there was light, I’d most likely kiss your cheek in a gentlemanly manner.”

Wow. Wasting no time in the flirtation then. From any other strange man in close proximity, this should be too forward. But incredibly, intuitively, you know he means no harm. Ginger wouldn’t hook you up with anyone who was a threat, and obviously he knows that any bad step on his part would be reported.

But it is his voice that gives you calm. His voice in the dark. Deep. Mannerly. Steady. With a twang that is on track to becoming a big distraction.

You’re self aware enough to realize you made a mistake on your way here. You had already decided that the date was a minor hurdle to get through in order to meet your networking goal, that these business types weren’t your style and that you’d shake hands and leave with nothing more than a little professional support.

It had been a subliminal, foregone conclusion. At no point had you seriously expected to have your head turned.

But he’s said all of a few sentences to you–all of them polite, gentle, and smoothly southern…

…And it’s working on you.

You can feel your face start to burn and even though it’s impossible to see anything in any direction, you still smile hard in the direction of your shoes. It would be nice to be kissed on the cheek by a man with that voice. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all?

“You still with me, darlin’?” It’s smooth and sweet, a perfect balance of charm and attempting not to be a threat or take up the whole room, even as tiny as it is.

“Hmm? Oh, yes… I was just wondering,” you peer in his direction out of habit, trying to find him in the void, “what brought you here.”

The careful calm cracks and a little cornball shows through. “Well you did, sugar. I believe we had a blind date. Although, this is awfully literal.”

You can feel your face squinching up, suppressing a laugh–a hopeless endeavor that fails–and it’s pleasantly surprising at how instantly you are won over. “I meant Manhattan! I assume you’re not from here…your accent…”

“Ah that,” he purrs, laying it on thicker for your benefit. “I am a Southern boy born and bred. But someone had to run Statesman’s New York branch, so I slung myself into the saddle, and here I ride.”

“I suppose the cowboy act is helpful for the brand….charming investors…subliminal suggestion of authenticity…”

There’s a sharp intake from his corner. “Sweetheart! I can assure you there is no act. I grew up on a fair few ranches and have one myself.”

“Really? With the horses and everything.”

“With the horses and everything. Did you say ‘charming?’”

There’s something so freeing about knowing your expressions are masked. But no doubt the delight comes through. “Can you do lasso tricks?”

“I might know a few.”

How does he do sincere and suggestive at the same time? Ginger said he wasn’t subtle, but he certainly has nuance.

The sudden image of a tall, dark, handsome cowboy and his lasso running around New York sends your imagination rolling though. Clapping a hand over your mouth to hide your sudden smile isn’t necessary, just a reflex. Thank god he can’t see what a giggling mess he’s making of you.

He’s ridiculous.

And you love it.

What on earth has gotten into you?

Too fast. Too fast. Calm down.

“So..has this happened before?”

Your question hangs in the darkness.

And then....keeps hanging.

He’s been quick to respond up until now. Did you say something wrong? Is he thinking back? It’s hard to say why, but his pause raises the hair on the back of your neck.

But it’s only a matter of seconds before he gently eases the silence open. “What do you mean by that, sugar?”

“Ah…the elevator? Does it break down like this often? You don’t seem particularly stressed out by it.”

“I would point out that you seem pretty calm yourself.”

You shrug needlessly. “There’s no reason not to be. There’s ventilation. Standard codes will have a secondary cable system in place and there’s no way we can fall unless the cords are severed, which is unlikely. Worst case scenario is that we have to hand pry the door open and either crawl up or drop down… I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, but I’m sure the both of us could handle it. The only reason I’d have to be afraid is because I’m trapped in a lightless box with a man I don’t know and might need to defend myself.”

“And I bet you could defend yourself.” His drawl deepens when he’s delighted.

Noted.

“I have a feeling I’m not going to have to.”

“No, ma’am.” There’s a shared, sweet and nervous laugh between you and you have a distinct image in your mind of those dark eyes crinkling at the edges. You’d wager he has a beautiful smile. You’d wager more that he has a cowboy grin–lopsided and dopey, but somehow just as charming as that twang. And just as you’re reminding yourself to slow down your flirting again, it seems he’s had the same thought. “These old buildings do have their quirks. A breakdown isn’t unheard of. So...how does a master distiller know so much about elevator mechanics?”

“Well, first of all, just ‘distiller.’ I’d like to be a master someday. Furthest I’ve been is head distiller. Secondly, I’m sure Ginger told you that we were undergrad together, started off on the same track, but I stuck with the chemistry and she went into the physics… we kind of learned a lot from each other. I don’t remember talking about elevators specifically? But it’s funny what just happens to stick in the memory banks.”

“I see.” Strange. He seems slightly perplexed with that answer and lets his reaction drag as if he’s formulating his follow up question. “And then you took off for Herlot Watt.”

“That’s right.”

“What sticks in your memory banks about that?”

Ah. He’s switched to the more professional side of the questions. That can be appreciated. After all, Ginger did say that he could help you along even if the date didn’t go well. And since it seemed almost certain to go well, it’s gentlemanly for him to save it for better lighting–with a table and a meal between you--and spend this trapped time getting the dryer and safer questions out of the way.

“Well, my postgraduate studies were–”

“Oh I know about your studies. I’ve read. I’m talking about your time in Ed-in-burrow. Did you enjoy it there? What’s something you learned that wasn’t taught in their books?”

“Edinburgh is beautiful. The history, the shadows and light…I can still smell the bitter florals of the old perfumery from the little side street I lived on…I guess I learned… well, I mean, the air is in the whiskey there. And I learned that you can’t force a spirit to be what it’s not. Every spirit you distill will have its history in it–the local water in the wash, the particular ions in the soil that grow the barley in your mash, the sweetness or bitterness of the wood used for the barrels…even those change from forest to forest in the same region. If you pay enough attention, you can see the thread of the chemical makeup in each spirit as you drink it, each one unique, even if you don’t have the knowledge of its path to the present, you still know there’s a signature experience there…”

Another long silence.

“Sounds like you’re pretty perceptive to your senses and your surroundings.”

“Your cologne has cedar and tonka in it, I can tell you that.”

An amused chuckle that ends in a drawn out note, “Well shit. Thus ends the interview section of our meeting. I’m sure Statesman can put your talents to good use.”

“Oh, I’d love that–”

“But tell me. Did you ever get out of the city? Go exploring the countryside?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. If I was too wound up in studies, I’d pick the closest castle on the map I hadn’t gone to yet and go take a drive out to the country. It was gorgeous. That became like my little pastime and reward all wrapped up in one.”

“You ever visit the North Berwick area?”

It takes you a moment to scan your mental map. “On the coast? Yes, actually, Tantallon Castle was kind of a go-to place when I needed to get out of the city and spend some time by the sea. Do you know it?”

“I do, actually. So you’re familiar with the area.”

“Oh yeah. There’s a little abbey hotel I booked a few long weekends in that had the best meat pies I’ve ever had. The woman who ran the place had this little Westie she’d dress in a tartan that she’d allow me to walk in the mornings on my roamings…” It’s a happy memory, one you wish had more time to pour over, but don’t have the advantage of reading his expression to know if it would be boring or not. “Wow. I haven’t thought about that place in a while.”

“You think you still know how to get around?”

You blink in the dark. An odd question. “I…think so?”

“Would you like to go back?”

Something’s wrong, and your eyebrows know it as surely as you do, pulling together as you try to keep your voice casual and innocent. “I…guess I wouldn’t mind a visit? Why? Would Statesman Distillery require me to have more training?”

Tilting an ear to him, you listen hard. A shift of feet or a shallow breath or a change in speaking tempo can belie a lot and he’s suddenly being strangely persistent in this questioning line.

“Not exactly. Ginger said you were pretty good with the dialect in that area.”

“It’s thick, but it’s not like it’s Glaswegian.”

“But she said you were a good mimic.”

“That’s…weird. Why would she tell you that?” Your senses go on full alert.

“You ever ramble on through the caves in the cliffside there?”

“I heard there were caves, but I’d never gone, don’t want to get sucked in by high tide.” What the hell kind of questions are these?

“You ever meet a man at the University name of Barclay–”

“What?”

“No. You stop! I’m ending this.”

The sharp retort is an abrupt change in character from the urban cowboy you’ve just started to get to know, and you naturally step back and put your hands up in a defensive stance. “I…what? Did I say something–”

Your companion’s voice suddenly gains an edge, authoritative, impatient, an irritation gradually salting the earth. “Yes, I can see that. Listen, I can trust your word on this but you know patience is not my main quality and she’s not dumb. Look at her. She’s seein’ through all of this already so I would appreciate the opportunity not to beat around the bush this one time. Yes, I know! But this is my assignment now and drawing this out is not the way to build trust–”

“Ah…excuse me? You can see what, exactly?”

“--no signs of stress, high perception, the skills are there! I know what I’m about and the damage is done. Turn on the damn lights, Ginger.”

Squinting against the sudden brightness as the elevator lights flicker on, you catch sight of Jack Daniels across from you in full for the first time. You weren’t mistaken, he is decidedly handsome and well-kempt, big hands on slim hips, head tilted back and watching you intently with dark eyes through the bottom of his glasses…

You don’t remember seeing the glasses.

“Over speaker, Ginger. She can’t hear you though the tech.”

Your friend’s tense voice reverberates from above. “Yes, thank you I know.”

“Ginge?” you ask into the air. “What the hell.”

“My old friend…I’m so so sorry about this. This isn’t really how I wanted this to go. I promise you there’s an explanation. I need you to breathe. And relax. You’re going to break that railing, sweetie.”

You suddenly take stock of your back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator, hands gripping the brass railing that runs along at waist height like you need to brace yourself, a contradiction to a fight or flight response. “Wait.” Your gaze bounces to the four corners of the ceiling searching for a camera. “You can see me?”

Jack taps the frame of his glasses and the notification sound you’d heard earlier in the dark pings again. Sliding them off his face, folding them in a huff and jamming them in his breast pocket he smirks, “Not anymore, she can’t.”

“Whiskey–”

“Dammit, Ginger… You gonna do this, or am I?”

There’s a tense moment as Jack glares you down and your friend heaves an audible sigh.

“Jack is going to explain some things. It’s going to be a lot, but I’m going to need you to trust him. Like you trust me.”

“I don’t understand–”

“I know, dearest. But you will.”

Turning to Jack Daniels, you find him easy, smiling, and extending a hand across the small space toward you, putting on all the charm. “Let’s start over. Howdy. I’m Jack Daniels, CEO of the New York branch of Statesman Distilling, and high-ranking operative for the covert espionage agency it covers. Code name: Whiskey.”

You find yourself reaching for him through your shock, propelled by Ginger’s assurance, Jack’s return to confidence and warmth, and your own curiosity kicking in. “Espionage…. You’re a spy?”

“Yes ma’am,” he winks as his fingers curl around yours. “Ginger too, if you can believe it. And–wouldn’t you know it–we’re recruiting.”

“They just called in a reboot of the whole building system,” Ginger warns. “It will probably be fifteen minutes before that takes. I can reliably give you ten. Without interruption, Jack should be able to tell you what you need to know, so keep your questions for the dinner table. I’ll scramble the mics and be back right before go.”

Dropping your hand to tap a button on his overlarge watch, Jack nods. “In ten, copy. Now then, sugar,” he hums at you, “let’s begin with Statesman.”

Over the following ten minutes, Jack explains the agency that coexists with the whiskey business, as well as its several fraternal organizations throughout the world, how Ginger came to be a part of it, why she had to keep it a secret from you, and will continue to do so if you decline the invitation to join–memory wipe, painless, no big deal, done right here in the elevator and the date continues as if none of this happened. But the background checks and paperwork are all done, you’ll need minimal training, and there’s time for that before you depart for your mission in Edinburgh–

“Mission? Wait. What? I thought you wanted me to work in the distillery–”

“Of course,” Jack explains, “there’s that too, but we need your skills and expertise and boots on the ground for this one. You know the area, as an alum you have an in at the University. You don’t have to do anything tactical. Not to worry, that’s my department and I’ll be right there with you–”

“So this was all some elaborate set up for what? To feel me out? Some kind of stress test?”

His thumbs hook into his belt loops as he settles into one hip, his chin chasing a raised eyebrow. “Why? Do I cause you stress, darlin’?”

Oh shit. That pulls your reins up short. You have no answer to this. Well. None that you’d like to admit out loud anyway. His chest is so broad. And it’s right there. And his shirt pulls against it when he stands like that…

Beside the point. Focus.

“But…why on earth would you want a spirits chemist on a spy mission?”

A wry smile pulls at one corner of his mustache as he catches you looking. “You said so yourself; there’s a lot of useful stuff in that memory bank of yours.”

“Yes, but–”

“Are you seriously underestimating the importance of chemistry?”

You might have protested further, made him understand that chemistry is noble but that you can’t wield it like a weapon; you use it for mixing compounds not for unveiling secrets. But the gentle swagger with which he closes the gap between you stops the words from coming. And the smooth and measured way he pulls you  into the circle of his arms stops your head from thinking. All this just before he presses his lips to your cheek….

In a gentlemanly manner.

Ah. That chemistry.

“Is this…still a date?” You don’t mean to whisper, but your voice seems to be on an inconvenient hiatus. 

His cheek hums next to yours, honeyed twang circling your ear. “Seems a shame to waste a good dinner reservation. And good company. You disapprove?”

“No. But,” pulling back an inch or two, you swallow and do your best not to look him in the eye at this close proximity. Somehow, that’s supposed to keep him from hearing your heart booming. “I thought you said you’d wipe my memory before this continues as a date.”

“I never said the two scenarios were mutually exclusive. There’s no rule says agents can’t co-mingle. And if there were such rules…well, shit,” tipping his head down to hook your eye, “They’ve never built a fence this buck can’t jump.”

“Seems unprofessional.”

“That’s what makes it fun, sugar.”

“Jack! I leave you alone for ten minutes–” Ginger’s chiding echoes from the speaker above. “You’re deviating from the plan.”

He steps back to assess your bemused smile. “I beg to differ. I told you I’d be flirtin’ to get what I want. Never specified that ‘what I want’ stopped at information.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea so soon–”

“I do, Ginge,” you call into the air while holding Jack’s steady gaze. “How did you put it? ‘Acceptable to my tastes?’ You know me better than anyone. I find it hard to believe that you’d trap me in a box with a sturdy, handsome man of mystery and expect me not to rise to the challenge.”

In the short silence that follows, you can almost hear Ginger fume. You can certainly see Jack grin.

“Jack. If you mess this up or hurt her, I will replace your entire glandular system with a colony of pigeon ticks.”

He gives a stoic nod, mostly for your benefit. “Odd choice of pest, but copy that. In the meantime–”

He makes it official by stepping forward and offering an elbow.

And you seal the deal by looping your arm through it.

“--order up. One box of Whiskey and Rye to the rooftop patio.”

You can’t recall the last time you gave over to the power of “well hell why not” like this. There’s something about him that is instantly trustworthy and you can’t wait to find out what it is. In the meantime, the reflection that you two make in the elevator doors tells you all you need to know; it’s a story in itself, an epic meet cute, an adventure in the making.

There’s a lurch as the elevator begins to climb, but this time you stay steady on your feet; he makes sure of that.

As the doors slide open, the picture of you on the arm of this new challenge splits to reveal a quiet patio restaurant under the stars. All the tables are empty but for the one in the center–a lone candle burning, and a setting for two.

“An arranged elevator stall. A fully reserved restaurant. The offer of a job and possible espionage. What else do you have up your sleeve, cowboy?”

As an answer, he flexes slightly, his bicep pushing at the blazer fabric under your hand. “Possible espionage? You still havin’ doubts? You hold onto these guns, sugar, and follow my lead. I will happily persuade you.”

Stepping out into the night together, you close your eyes and let him guide you to the table. “You know what, cowboy? I think I might happily allow you to.”

A chuckle. “What do you reckon? Best blind date ever?”

“Best blind date ever.”

________

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

[cienie-isengardu]

Darth Vader & Maximilian Veers

A collection of various tie-in source material about Darth Vader and Maximilian Veers, published through the years.

Star Wars Galaxy Guide #3 - The Empire Strikes Back (second edition) - 1996

[...] Veers might be the only living Imperial officer who doesn't share an all-consuming fear of Darth Vader. This is not a from a lack of respect for Vader. Rather, the two seem to respect one another, as Vader appreciates Veers' ruthless and cunning nature.

Side Trip, part 4 by Timothy Zahn - 1997

"One final suggestion, and then I suspect we must both be on our separate ways. I understand the general in command of the Executor’s ground forces resigned suddenly a month ago. I was able to watch the battle outside Thyne’s stronghold for a while as I waited to make sure the smugglers escaped; and in my opinion the Imperial officer in command is being wasted in a garrison assignment." "Your opinion carries considerable weight,” Vader said. “As I’m sure you know. The officer’s name?” “Colonel Veers,” Thrawn said. “From the level of his tactical skill, I’d also say he’s long overdue for a promotion. Perhaps his political connections within the command structure leave something to be desired.” “Political connections do not concern me,” Vader rumbled, stepping to the door. “I will see what I can do with this Colonel Veers. Thank you, Admiral.” “My pleasure, Lord Vader,” Thrawn said with a respectful tilt of his head. “One favor for another. Perhaps we’ll have the chance to work again together.””

STAR WARS FACT FILE #14 - 2014

The Sith Lord and his new general had a unique appreciation of each other's abilities. Vader knew Veers was utterly uninterested in personal advancement through the politics that crippled the Imperial Court, and so would remain completely loyal to the Empire. Veers in turn understood Vader's powerful abilities and command style, and appreciated both. General Veers was the only officer in the whole Death Squadron who was not afraid of Darth Vader

&

Darth Vader had a personal hand in Veers' career and his rapid advancement to general. The two men had a mutual respect, and Vader had a high regard for Veers' ability. It was only natural that he would give him a key role in the assault on Echo Base.

Star Wars Insider #96 - 2007

Unlike Motti, Ozzel or Needa, Maximilian Veers had no need to fear Vader's wrath [...].

The Official Starships & Vehicles Collection #04 (DeAgostini) - 2009

VADER'S GENERAL As a reward for his daring, Veers was promoted to command the ground forces attached to Lord Vader's Death Squadron - a personal fleet groups engaged in hunting down the Rebel Alliance. As an example of the new, younger Imperial officer, he frequently clashed with the traditionalist Admiral Ozzel but Vader backed Veers each time [...].

Star Wars: On the Front Lines by Daniel Wallace - 2017

General Maximilian Veers A brilliant tactician, General Veers earned notice for his vocal and persistent advocacy for the increased use of AT-ATs in ground operations. Darth Vader respected Veers for his eerily calm demeanor under fire.

The Truest Duty by Christie Golden [From a Certain Point of View: The Empire Strikes Back] - 2020

The Emperor’s right hand was the fearsome Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith; he of the unseen face, black armor, brilliant mind, and swift discipline. If the elite troopers aboard Vader’s flagship, the Executor, were known as Vader’s Fist, then Veers liked to think of himself as Vader’s Dagger: silent, elegant, and lethal.

[...]

At this moment, Veers was bringing unwelcome news to his master, but that did not trouble him. The amount of…attrition…at both higher and lower levels on the ship was troubling to some, terrifying to others. Fear had been beaten out of Veers quite some time ago, and he had no patience for it. It confounded him that others failed to grasp that the secret to promotion, respect, power, and a long life was very clear: Don’t fail Vader. Maximilian Veers never had. Because who would ever want to fail Lord Vader? And who could live with themselves if they did?

[...]

In his career, Veers had met many diplomats, leaders, generals, and royalty. Many were impressive; some intimidating. But no one had a presence like Lord Vader. He was a massive figure swathed in darkness; the very energy around him seeming to change upon his entrance: charged, elevated. And, always, the sound. Rhythmic, constant, it terrified those who were the object of the Dark Lord’s displeasure. Those ill-fated fools knew that sound would likely be the last thing they heard. Veers, however, found it calming. Steady. As unfaltering as Vader was, as he, Maximilian Veers, was. The Dark Lord was many things to Veers, but he was not a threat. Because Veers never failed him.

[...]

Veers was perfectly well aware that Darth Vader was not a god. On more than one occasion, while reporting to the Dark Lord when he was in his meditation chamber, Veers had caught a glimpse of Lord Vader donning his helm. There was only a man in there; one who had suffered horribly, whose skin was nothing but angry red scar tissue. He had bled, had burned; had felt agonizing pain. And he had endured. Veers did not know the man Darth Vader had been, before the helm and armor and glowing red lightsaber, but it did not matter to him. Darth Vader was who had been born from that unimaginable suffering. He was no stranger to violence or malice. And all Lord Vader demanded of those who served was respect, obedience, and success. It was so simple. And it was because of that simplicity that Veers had never failed him.

[...]

“What is it, General?” The deep, rich voice, smooth and calm save when it was even deeper with rage. Such a tone had never been directed toward Veers.

[...]

Blizzard Force was taking more casualties than expected, and this troubled Veers. They were his soldiers. His unit. They trusted him to lead. But he had also trusted them to follow. Follow, obey orders, die for the Empire if need be. For Lord Vader.

[...]

Thump. Thump. Thump. Fast, so fast. Sounds, dreamy, muffled, distorted. Water. Swimming in water. Weightless, at ease, warm. Ready to drift away. But no, no. That wasn’t right… The thumping grew faster, faster. Fear crept in, tendrils of darkness, wrapping around, squeezing—no, no, please— And then came the sound. Rhythmic, almost soothing, calming. Steady. As unfaltering as Lord Vader himself. Veers tried to say, My lord, then realized that the labored breathing he heard was his own. And as if the knowing of this suddenly made it real, pain such as he had never felt raced through him. The armor had protected him—hadn’t it? He opened his eyes—ah! bright, too bright—and where there had been darkness and softness and warmth and comfort, now there were colors and chaos and agony, so intense and powerful it was almost… pure. And cold. So, so cold… The strange sounds formed themselves into known things: words, his own heartbeat. “…pretty bad…Still alive…where are the medics…” Snow. I remember… “He’s awake!” It was TK-78…he could not remember the number. It was Lastok. He had removed his helm, against regulations. His face was bloody, but the trooper looked more worried about Veers. Why? Veers tried to ask, but no words came out. “General…General Veers! Sir, you’ve got to listen to me. Hang on, all right?” Lastok glanced away, looking around, then shouted, “Medic! It’s the general!” He waved, flagging someone down, then returned his attention to Veers. “Stay with us, sir. You’re going to be all right!” But Veers had heard fear and hope warring in a soldier’s voice before. He was not at all sure he was going to be all right. He was sufficiently aware to notice that the cold stopped at his midsection. His legs…were they just too cold for him to feel? Or… His armor should have shielded him from the cold, but he could not stop shivering. Could he move? Legs, arms…anything? “No, no. You can’t die, General!” Veers knew what Lastok was doing: trying to keep him from drifting away into a place where no medic would be able to help. He closed his eyes again. The softness, the comfort was calling to him again. Veers listened. “…Lord Vader!” The gibberish had once again formed into words Veers knew. Words that gripped him, dragged him back into this place of life, of anguish. Tears stung his eyes at the thought of how close he had come. Lastok was right to have reminded him of his truest duty. No. I must not fail Lord Vader. He stopped resisting the pain and welcomed it instead. As Vader would. As Vader must have once. His mind flashed to the glimpses of the man inside the helm. His lord had not just survived unbearable torment but used it to reshape himself. Become the stronger for the suffering. Each labored gulp of air sent excruciating stabs through his chest. He endured them. He heard the medics rush up, and knew it was safe to let go; they would catch him now. All was well. No, my lord. I shall never fail you. Ever.

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — 07. the rooftop

previous | next

You woke up the next morning to the sound of rain and hushed voices from the living room.

It’s so weird that Minji is becoming friends with a messenger from God… who she thinks is my girlfriend.

You sat up, straining your ears to listen.

“Is she treating you well?” Minji’s low voice teasingly asked.

“Yeah,” you could imagine Danielle’s smile. “She is.”

I should tell her to get into acting.

“I’m surprised she’s not just brooding on your dates.”

“Why? Is she usually like that?”

You heard Minji sigh in exasperation. “Before you came, she was like a walking thunderstorm. I'm pretty sure I’m her only friend. You can imagine my shock when I found out she had a whole girlfriend. Before me, too…”

Okay, rude.

“Do you know why?”

“I know a bit,” Minji said, after a pause. “It’s probably best if you heard it from her.”

Oh.

You took that as a sign to start heading towards the bathroom before making your presence known.

“Hi guys,” you said, muffled, brushing your teeth.

“Hey,” Minji stretched and made her way toward the door. “I’m gonna head out. I’ll catch you guys later.”

She shut the door gently behind her.

“Morning,” Danielle smiled. “It’s raining today, so I guess we’re staying inside.”

You grinned, mouth full of toothpaste. “Nice.”

You quickly finished washing up and plopped yourself next to her on the couch.

“What do you usually do at home? Besides sleeping.”

“It probably sounds loser-ish, but I like doing jigsaw puzzles,” you scratched your nape. “I don’t know why, I guess it’s rewarding to see the end result.”

She sat up enthusiastically. “That sounds fun! Do you have any puzzles you haven’t started?”

“Yeah,” you felt relieved at her response. “It’s this really pretty city at night. It’s in my room.”

“I’ll make cereal for you and bring it in while you find the puzzle.” You hated how her thoughtfulness made your throat dry.

You both lay on your stomachs on the floor of your room, spreading out the pieces.

“You’ve told me about the structure, but what’s the work culture like in heaven?” You shoved a spoon full of cereal in your mouth.

“It’s nice,” she mused. “Everyone’s always gossiping about their human.”

“Have you gossiped about me yet?” You eyed her curiously.

“Maybe.” She stuck her tongue out childishly. “Not telling you what I said.”

“Why not?” You whined. “Surely I’m not that bad.”

She zipped her mouth shut.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, internally celebrating when you finished the border of the puzzle. “Do you ever have free time in heaven?”

“We don’t really have free time,” she pouted. “When we’re done with one wish, we almost immediately get assigned another.”

“No wonder why you force me to go out everyday. You must be having a blast with me then,” you smiled smugly.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who just sleeps all day.”

“Not true,” you frowned, flicking a piece at her forehead. “I have been obediently waking up at seven on the dot every morning.”

“I guess I can give you that.”

The two of you worked in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company. Honestly, you were doing most of the work, while Danielle seemed to be deep in thought. She was now lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, preoccupied with her own thoughts.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She stopped twirling the puzzle piece with her fingers.

“I know you heard Minji and I this morning.”

“Oh.” You clicked a piece in. “Was it your angel powers?”

“Something like that.”

You clicked another piece in. “What do you want to know about?”

“Everything,” she said. “I always want to know everything about you.”

Do you care because you like me or because you have to?

“It’s a long sob story,” you warned.

“We have time,” she replied, glancing at the window, rain still pattering gently against it.

You hummed in acknowledgment, clicking another piece in as Danielle watched you intently. You took some time to form the right words. Where do I begin?

“My mom and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up.”

“Really?” She furrowed her eyebrows. “Based on the stories you told, I thought…”

“Grief has a funny way of changing your perspective,” you smiled wryly. “I choose to talk about the good parts. I still remember the bad, of course.”

You stamped a piece down. “My parents weren’t rich. They sacrificed a lot to get me to where I am today. All they ever wanted was to see me successful, live a better life than they did. They taught me what hard work and discipline was.”

“They raised you well,” she said softly.

You nodded. “My mom was the most ambitious person I knew. I guess she wanted to pass that trait on to me. My childhood was spent mostly doing extracurriculars — tutoring, debating, volunteering, all that kinda stuff. When I was seven, she signed me up for piano classes.”

You both looked at the keyboard in your room, neglected and covered with dust.

“At first, I was fine with it. She was visibly proud of me, for once. But then, it became more serious. I had to practice a few hours everyday, had to start learning music theory, going to these concerts, taking exams…”

You sighed. “It was like the breaking point for me. It was too much. I hated it. I tried to tell my mom, but she wouldn’t listen. She would just say ‘It’s good for you’ and ‘Don’t you want to make me happy?’ It caused a rift in our relationship.”

“And your dad?”

“He just stood by and watched. He’s a person of little words.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t talk to her without an argument starting,” you clenched your jaw. “We both grew bitter. Argued about anything and everything. This went on for years. And one day, I just stopped playing. I refused to go to lessons. Refused to touch the piano at all. She tried everything: taking away my phone, guilt-tripping me, giving me the cold shoulder. But nothing worked. She gave up eventually.”

You felt a familiar burning sensation in your throat. Danielle shuffled closer and grabbed your hands, squeezing it. “We didn’t talk for a while. Days turned to weeks. I tried to mend our relationship, do anything to make her proud of me again. But our stubbornness always got the better of us. Then one day…”

You took in a shaky breath. “I was in school, and I got a call. I think you can guess what happens next.”

She said nothing, pulling you in for a hug. You exhaled quietly, closing your eyes as you felt hot tears stream down your face.

“After her passing, I resented her,” you muttered. “Why wasn’t I ever enough? That anger, it helped me, for a while. It was the only way I could live with the regret of leaving our relationship like that. As soon as I could, I packed my bags, left, and never looked back. That’s how I ended up here now.”

You pulled back and looked at the keyboard. “Bought that impulsively. Thought it would help me get over it, but I haven’t had the courage to touch it since. I learned to play the guitar instead. It’s hiding in my closet.”

Danielle’s watery eyes met yours. “Maybe it’s time to try again.”

You managed a small smile. “Maybe.”

“Thank you for telling me,” she bit the inside of her cheek. “And I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I think she would’ve been proud of who you’ve become.”

“No,” you murmured, feeling that familiar ache in your heart. “It means everything.”

She handed you a tissue, to which you gratefully accepted and wiped your tears away.

“Let’s finish this puzzle.” You clicked another piece in, your heart feeling lighter. “And maybe I'll play you a song.”

“Damn,” Danielle stood up, admiring the completed puzzle. “We did an amazing job.”

“Who’s we?” you scoffed. “I did an amazing job.”

“Same difference,” she shrugged, rushing over to violently open your closet. You rolled your eyes at her lack of patience and respect for privacy.

She pulled your guitar out, eyes shining in excitement. She strummed, recoiling back at how off-tune it was. “You weren’t lying when you said it’s been a while.”

You smiled, leaning down to connect your keyboard and power it on. You stretched your fingers, blowing off dust before pressing down on the keys, adjusting your fingers to a familiar shape.

You bit your lip, playing some scales. “It feels so weird.” You turned to face her. “Any song requests?”

“What?” She frowned in confusion. “You can play any song?”

“I have perfect pitch,” you mumbled. “So, kind of..”

She gasped, grabbing your shoulder and shaking it. “Please play a song from Frozen.”

“Oh my god,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Anything but that.”

She stared at you with puppy eyes.

“Fine.”

You hummed the melody of For The First Time in Forever to yourself, feeling out the chords of the song, before beginning to play it.

Danielle leaned over your shoulder, eyes widened and jaw dropped. She was speechless for the whole song. Your fingers were clumsy and stumbled on some parts, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“So,” you dragged out once you played the final note. “Not bad for a rusty old-timer, right?”

“Not bad?” She screeched. “That was amazing!”

You winced at her shouting, but smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

“I can't believe you have perfect pitch,” she said, starstruck. “Have you considered composing music?”

“I used to,” you grabbed the guitar off the bed and fiddled with the tuning keys. “I just couldn’t find inspiration, so nothing really became of it.”

“Well, you have me now,” she grinned, pulling a chair up next to you. “And I have plenty of ideas.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t peg you for a musician.”

“We listened to tons of music when studying about Earth,” she puffed her cheeks. “From Tchaikovsky to Queen to Nicki Minaj to LOONA. The whole bunch.”

“Alright,” you smiled, opening up your laptop. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You leaned back on your chair and pressed play, both of you nodding your head along to the instrumental.

“The synths are so pretty,” she gushed. “And you did an amazing job with the riff.”

“This song is so you,” you chuckled. “Upbeat and groovy.”

“Good job, me.” You coughed back a scoff as Danielle patted herself on the back. You relaxed your shoulders, stretching your arms and cracking your knuckles.

“Huh,” you said, staring outside. “It stopped raining.”

“Let’s go out!” She exclaimed, grabbing your hand. “Do you know the spot?”

You looked at her, confused. “What?”

“The spot?” She scratched her head. “A spot? The other messengers said that humans always have ‘a spot’ or something.”

“Oh,” you smiled. She’s so cute. “Yeah, I do.”

“Great!” she squealed, pulling you outside. “Let’s go!”

“Wow,” Danielle exhaled as she leaned against the rail of the rooftop, looking down to the city below.

“It’s always pretty at night,” you moved next to her, reaching your hand out to feel the light breeze. “Especially after it rains. The lights reflect so much better on the wet roads.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Whenever I used to come up here,” you watched the cars drive by and people walk past below, “I liked picking a person and coming up with their story. Like I was God.”

She smirked, “God?”

“Like that guy,” you pointed at a random man, who was leaning against a street pole, hands tucked in his pocket. “Bet you his name is Sebastian.”

“Sebastian?” she frowned. “No, it’s definitely Jerry.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “He’s waiting for a friend. They have this weird tradition where they meet once a month to discuss whether crocodiles are real or not.”

She tilted her head. “I can see that. I think he’s the type to believe that they don’t exist.”

The man was now pacing back and forth, talking to someone on the phone. You gasped. “His friend just called. He has to cancel because his girlfriend wants a date night.”

“But,” Danielle continued dramatically. “The girlfriend works at a zoo, where she sees crocodiles everyday, so she’s constantly telling the boyfriend to stay away from Jerry, claiming that he’s too weird. That’s why the friend is avoiding him, making excuses to skip their tradition.”

You smiled as she played along. “You’re surprisingly good at this.”

“Surprisingly?” She feigned offense. “I’m good at everything.”

After your laughter died down, it was silent again, both of you taking in the view below. You turned to your side to face her, marveling at how pretty she looked.

“Danielle,” you said her name like a prayer. She turned, the two of you now facing each other.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for this past week,” you smiled sincerely. “You make things feel so… easy.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I just forced you to go outside.”

You bit your lip. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy. So, thank you.” You edged closer to her, her gaze snapping towards your hand that was now on top of hers.

Fuck it.

You leaned forward and kissed her. Your lips met gently, and you pulled her closer by the shirt to deepen the kiss. For a second, you felt her kissing you back.

She suddenly jerked back, eyes swirling with guilt.

“Danielle,” you whispered. “I really like-”

“Don’t,” she said, voice cracking. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Your heart dropped. “Why?”

“We can’t,” she said, voice strained, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

She started to step away, further from you.

“Wait,” you reached out to her. “Listen to me-”

“I can’t.”

Just as your fingers brushed against her wrist, she turned and disappeared, leaving you with the echo of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

You couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning, your mind filled with unanswered questions and the ghost of her lips on yours.

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