#fuck you windows i only used you to update the drivers

[yaysheppy]

FOQ windows im not paying three trillion dollars for shit spyware bloatware on my pc i thibk I will bite the bullet and finally jump to linux for real abd not just in my shitty vms ... ubuntu is good for gaming methinks . ..

now the omly issue is ihavw to look through three trillion distros and find one "beginner" friendly .

[rosyblooom]

not so perfect strangers | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x private fem!reader SUMMARY: after getting completely splashed by a passing car, y/n throws all 'stranger danger' warnings out the window and hitches a ride home.

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: OMFG THIS CAR JUST SPLASHED ME NOW I'M SOAKED😭😭😭 couldn't even see the driver ughh ]

[ caption: it's been almost 1 hr and i still look like a wet rat🙃 soo guess who's hitching a ride? (if i don't update within 2 hrs CALL THE POLICE PLS) ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: no need to worry anymore, your girl made it back home🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 68 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername "stranger danger" but not this one !! 🙂‍↕️

view all 22 comments

yourfriend girl what- is this who I think it is???

yourusername 🤭🤭

yourbestfriend UHM DINNER TOOO????

yourusername messaging u rn girly🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

landonorris Again soon?👀

yourusername again tmrw? landonorris Again tomorrow. yourbestfriend what. the. fuck.

yourfriend pretty girl <33

(liked by author)

landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: Day 2 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: mixing friend groups >>> ] [ caption 2: another day, another slay 🙂‍↕️ ]

[ tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

Tiktok

A couple days later...

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: lol ] [ caption 2: bye ]

Instagram

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption 1: this is awkward ahaha... how about we all just forget about my silly goofy little story FOREVER AGO pretty please😁 ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

story replies:

yourbestfriend "he's dead to me"🤡🤡

yourusername pfft tomato tomato right ahaha 😁

yourfriend folding after only 5 days is clown shit lmfao

yourfriend LMAOOO where did all that energy go??

yourusername new phone who dis😀

yourfriend Y/N STAND TF UP OMFG???

yourusername b-but pretty flowers🥺 yourfriend a lost cause I see...

yourfriend I spy with my little eye a whole damn circus!

yourfriend so real tbh

yourusername i knew you'd get me babe 🙂‍↕️

[ ... ]

yourusername posted to her close friends!

[ caption: STOP EATING ME UP IN THE REPLIES OMFG?? PLS FRIENDS I'M JUST A GIRLLL ]

A few months later...

Instagram

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 13,007 others

f1gossipofficial According to this picture sent to us by a fan in China, it seems Lando Norris has brought Y/N along with him for the upcoming Grand Prix.

The duo has been the subject of rumours and sightings together for a while now. Could this weekend finally mark the debut of a new wag?

They certainly appear close in the photo! 👀

view all 845 comments

username just fell to my knees in walmart🧎‍♂️

username aw that picture is so cuteee i already love them together <33

username i feel like she's stuck up tbh cause i've been requesting to follow her for almost a month now and nothing. like girl you're not that important please😒

username uhmm...you're a weirdo username lmaooo how about you go live your life then if she isn't that important what💀

username I saw them too!! I asked for a pic with lando and she was super sweet and took it for us :)

username aw that makes me happy to hear username she did the same for me in monaco 🫶

username she gives bad vibes...

username y'all say that about everyone omg stfu

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: entering my lucky charm era hmm?👀 ] [ caption 2: AHHH P2 OMFG!!!! SO PROUD OF U LAN ❤️ ❤️ (you're welcome also 😌) ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, martingarrix, and 501,883 others

lando.jpg 🇨🇳

view all 3,097 comments

username rip lando's single era 😞💔

username crying and throwing up fr

yourusername ❤️

(liked by author)

username day 593 of begging you to make your insta public🥹 username with the way y'all treated Luisa I doubt that will happen username who tf is y'all?🤨

username P2 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

username ik everyone's been hating but I actually like that y/n's super private bc it shows she's with him for the right reasons :)

username right she seems genuine 🫶

username so proud of you lando 🧡🧡

username LAST PIC SHOULD BE MEEE

1:22 ───────ㅇ───── 2:22

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 16

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: this is rollercoaster ride is about to reach its end, only 4 more to go. i wanna thank everyone for reading this. let me know what you think about this one!!

About You Series

2013, Winter break (December)

The idea of having a kid seems unreal for Sebastian. He never thought much about it before since he thinks its still something for the distant future. Yet here he is now only a few weeks away from the birth of his daughter.

Having a daughter scares him a lot. No number of self-help books or even a parent’s advice could give him a guide to how to raise a kid well. He has seen how nasty boys could be and he will be damned if they approach his daughter. It was funny that he is already so protective and filled with love for someone that he hasn't met yet.

Sebastian shakes his thoughts away as he focuses on painting the walls of the nursery.

He had been making use of the winter break to renovate this new place that he bought in Switzerland. Ever since the season ended, he had been in contact with Hanna about how to do this whole thing. Sebastian was the first to suggest to buy a house that could provide privacy for the kid. He didn't want her face to be scattered across the news or be hounded by photographers hence why he opted for Switzerland.

Hanna was not due to go there until the week before Christmas so here he was nesting the place. He had babyproofed every corner and he bought some furnitures that the baby might need. It was honestly a lot of heavy lifting and tinkering but Sebastian is slowly making a home out of this place.

The buzz of his phone interrupts him and he places his brush down. He confusedly answer the call upon seeing the caller ID.

"Mark? What's up?" Sebastian didn't know if Mark misdialled him or maybe Mark knew the things that happened. He prayed his best that this must be a misdial "Do you need anything?"

"I have been trying to message you for hours, where are you?" Mark sounds exasperated at the other line.

"I'm sorry, I’m here in the swiss alps busy painting the walls and picking up stuffs" Sebastian sheepishly admits.

There was a silence at the other end of the line. A hesitation from Mark's end to break the news to him. He hears a heavy sigh from the Australian.

"So you have no idea what is going on?" Mark asked.

"You sound like something bad happened”

“I need you to get to the winter vacation home of the Schumacher” Mark ordered “Something terrible happened to Michael and the kids are left there with Y/N. Corinna went to accompany Michael and now the kids as well Y/N are being harassed by the media for questioning”

“I’ll be there”

His hands were quick to get his car keys and he was off driving to their location. He knew that the last time that he saw Y/N he promised to give her space. However, this situation calls for something different. He has to help her even just for Mick and Gina’s sake.

He drove as quick as he legally can to the Schumacher vacation house. It was a good idea that he was just about 20 minutes away from them because the scene in front of him is catastrophic. The view of reporters with their cameras and their phones crowded the window and the door. It was a suffocating sight to see. Sebastian could only be livid at the amount of ruckus that these so called journalist are causing additional emotional stress of the kids right now.

“Get away, get the fuck away” Sebastian announced as he parked his car.

The attention immediately shifted to the Red Bull driver. These media have no sense of privacy or whatsoever and it irritated him to the core.

“Sebastian, any comments about Michael? Is he okay? Is he in critical condition?”

“What do you think would happen to Michael?”

“Is there any news or updates about Michael?”

“Just please back away and let us have some privacy for the family. “Sebastian shouted, warding them off “You are scaring the children. Get your shit out of here”

Some reporters scattered away after seeing the temper of Sebastian. Others were still staying. Sebastian made his way to the front door by typing the code and he prayed it was still the usual. The moment that it beeps open, he hurriedly went in and slammed it shut before the reporters could get a scoop of what’s happening inside.

“Seb!” Mick was quick to run to greet him “I swore I heard your voice and you're here”

The little Schumacher was immediately latched to him. Sebastian gave him a comforting hug upon realizing that Mick was hiding his face and starting to cry. He couldn’t put into words how long Mick would have been holding those tears to be shaking in tears right now.

“It all happened so fast and I couldn’t do anything.. And then these reporters came out and they were crowding everywhere”Mick continued to explain.

“It’s alright, I’m here buddy. No one’s going to hurt you”

“Y/N said Mama and Papa arrived at the hospital but Papa is not yet awake” Mick recounts “I ‘m scared because what if Papa never wakes up or what if Papa wakes up and he has no memories of us?”

“Your papa will be alright buddy”Sebastian assures.

He has seen Michael survive so long in a dangerous sports, surely this simple accident won’t bring him down. Sebastian understood how shocking the whole experience can be for the kids and so he just allow Mick to be held for a few minutes more.

“Mick, I hate to do this but I think we have to go and change your location”Sebastian pointed out “There are reporters outside your home and they won't go away. I’ll help you move into a more quiet place, is that alright?”

The sniffling Mick nodded in understanding.

“Where’s Gina and Y/N? We have to go get them”Sebastian asked

“They’re in the bedroom. Y/N has been trying to calm Gina down and I think Gina fell asleep”

Mick lead the way and carefully opened the bedroom door of Gina. There Gina was sleeping soundly on the bed as Y/N was waiting on her cellphone. The two of them seems to be crying for hours already judging by the messy state that they are in.

“Seb, you’re here”a soft acknowledgement by Y/N.

“Mark called and I couldn’t leave you three by yourself” Sebastian explained “Can you pack a bag and we can go somewhere more safe?”

The female Webber nodded. It was a good thing that they haven’t unpacked a lot yet since they just arrived yesterday morning. They can easily pick up the stuffs that they brought so they won’t waste any more time.

“Good. Let’s get some jackets to cover the face of Mick and Gina” Sebastian instructed “The media out there are like hyenas waiting to get a statement”

“I’ll handle that but Gina just slept..”Y/N replied,

“I’ll carry Gina and cover her with the jacket. You and Mick should go together”Sebastian offered.

The three launched into their plan. Sebastian leads the way with a sleeping Gina on his arms. Mick was holding Y/N’s hands tightly as he kept his head down with the oversized jacket covering his whole face. His other hand was holding Sebastian’s jacket. Y/N carried the bags.

The moment the door opened, the media could not stop their flashing lights and questions. Sebastian did his best to navigate his way back to his car. He could feel Mick’s hold getting tighther as the intrusive questions continue.

Thankfully, they made their way back to the car and Sebastian managed to drive as far as possible from those pesky media.

“Everyone good?” Sebastian checked

“Yeah”Mick answered “Can’t believe Gina is still asleep with all the ruckus”

“You’re sister can sleep anywhere because her lullaby used to be those loud F1 cars”Y/N managed to joke.

From the mirror, Mick cracked a smile. It was something rare for today and the two adults felt at ease to see him smile. It didn’t take him a long time before Mick joined his sister and dozed off. The poor kid must have been extremely exhausted with everything that happened.

 Sebastian went back to focusing on driving back home when he noticed Y/N twisting her necklace. It was unmistakable that it was the same necklace that he gifted her all those years ago. He could never forget the meaning of why Y/N continuously touch or twist that necklace.

“You don’t have to worry Y/N, everything will be alright” Sebastian comforts.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips. Sebastian knew that this was as difficult for Y/N as it had been for the kids. Y/N has always been like an honorary Schumacher especially when Mark was not on speaking terms to her. This is incredibly tough on her to stay behind and be a strong figure for the kids.

“Corinna just sounded so broken when I talked to her and I’m just scared to want to know the truth” Y/N confessed “I don’t know how much longer I could stay strong for Mick and Gina”

Sebastian pulled the car over once Y/N starts crying. He cannot focus on driving knowing that she is by his side and in tears. He gave her tissues and allowed her to cry.

“Michael will pull through. He is tough anf strong”Sebastian reassured “You have to be strong because Corinna will be looking at you for support. Gina and Mick also looks up a lot to you”

If this was old times, he would have held her at this moment. He would have assured her as he gives her a comforting shoulder to cry on.

“Can I hold you?” He hoped for a positive answer but he didn’t want to overstep boundaries. He has already been overstepping with the way that he appeared when they agreed that they should figure things out for the moment.

And it surprised him when Y/N reached out to embrace him. The silent tears were muffled by how tight Y/N have been embracing him. He just lets her and he prays that things would be alright.

2014, Winter break (January)

The fireworks outside boasted different colors in the night sky. Sebastian assumes that it was quite a distance away from his home because the sounds of the fireworks and the celebrations weren't too loud. He hums with his cup of hot chocolate as he watches the magnificent display at his window.

"Seb?" Hanna waddled in. With a few weeks to go, she was having a lot more difficulty walking around the house "I heard some noises"

"Its New Year" Sebastian gestured at the firework display.

The pregnant woman muttered a small "oh". She must have lost track of times thats why she forgot that it was a new year.

"Happy new year then Seb." she greets "Hope you have a great one"

"Happy new year hanna"

"I'm gonna go and rest but if you want some company for the new year then I can—"

Sebastian shakes his head sideways. He knew that it was difficult for Hanna to walk a lot these days and staying up late might be bad for the baby.

"You go on and rest, have a great night Hanna"

Sebastian watched as Hanna retreated back to her room. Once she was gone,his gaze returned to the view outside. He reminisces the things that happened in 2013 and who would have thought that this is how he ends up in the following year. There were plenty of things, good and bad,that forever turned his life a whole 360.

He can't help but plague his thoughts of Y/N. This time last year,they shared New Years eve together with the Vettel household. He was holding champagne instead of hot cocoa. He was still sharing dreams of a future with Y/N.

There were plenty of questions of what this year may hold to their relationship. Sebastian would like to be a positive thinker and assume that they will work this out. However,he isnt sure if it will be that easy for them to overcome. He knew his priorities would also change with his daughter.

Speak of the devil. Her name appeared brightly on his phone screen. It was a photo of them on Christmas when he confessed. The bright smiles on their faces was perfectly captured.

"Hello?"Sebastian picked up the call.

There was giggling at the other end, an obvious sign that the girl was drunk.

"I am here and im up and about hehe”

"Jesus are you drunk? Where are you?"Sebastian asked.

He was worried. Y/N was not the type of person to drink excessively, she always know her limits. Sebastian wondered if she was somewhere safe or how would she be able to get home? Was she with friends or not?

"I ammmm perfectly safe hereee in my home"Y/N slurred.

A breath of relief for Sebastian "You're by yourself?"

"Yuppp,drank two bottles of this chocolate whiskey cream thing"

Sebastian smiles at their parallelism. Even now they are still matching with their drinks, of course. The only difference Seb has the non-alcoholic version while she has the alcoholic kinds. Its weird how they seem connected even if they are not speaking to each other a lot.

"Its just so fucking difficult. Its like a shitstorm man. Like is God testing me to be his strongest shoulder because I swear I am one event being a sacrificial lamb. Just take meeee. Take meee"

There goes Sebastian's theory. Y/N would never drink not unless she has unsaid feelings. It was her way to copenwith the things she bottled in. Sebastian sits in the couch as he listens to her rants.

"First was that horrific Multi 21. Made my life shittyyyy. Second, Michael. Fuck that brain trauma is traumatizing even the children. GOD WHY IS IT UNFAIR"

All that Sebastian wanted to do was be by her side and comfort her. She was breaking down and Sebastian is helpless on the other side of the phone. He is miles away and he can’t just leave Hanna by herself. It was a complicated situation—a common occurrence to describe them these days.

“And then I lost you.. I think that sucks the most because I think I can deal with everything but then why do I have to lose you too? I know this sounds selfish but I never wanted you to go and I wanted to work this out but fuck I’ll be so selfish to deprive your child of a father. My conscience can’t handle that”

“You didn’t lose me, we’re still working this out” Sebastian reasons out “I told you I will prove myself to you right? I told you I will come back as someone worthy of you”

It was that promise that keeps Sebastian steady on his feet. He was doing his best to figure out his life and to take on this new responsibility. He made it a point that his child and Y/N will always feel like a priority, people who will always feel loved by him.

“Will this year be better seb?”

“I hope it will be” Sebastian was wistful “It’s a start of new year, anything could happen”

The skies darkened once more as the embers of the fireworks disappeared. It was only the moon out there together with the stars sprinkled like specks of dust. Sebastian remembered that old childhood tale that if he wishes on the right star then his wish would come true. Hopefully the right star guides his wish today.

2014, Silverstone Circuit

The sun was up but the weather was a bit chilly for the second day of testing. Undoubtedly, this was a good weather to see the car go around the circuit. Y/N has already found her place somewhere outside the McLaren motorhome. She have been watching the cars and familiarizing herself with the new drivers on the grid.

It didn’t take long for her to enjoy her alone time because some drivers were sneaking up on her.

“Mind if we join you?” Jenson made his presence known. He was joined in by Nico and Lewis “You look like you have a good view of the whole testing”

“I can’t shoo you away even if I tried” Y/N replied

“We know”

The drivers settled down next to her. It felt comfortable to be around the McLaren-Mercedes trio. With Mark leaving the grid, she had to admit that these three have been putting an extra effort to include her in whatever they do ever since the testing season started. It was quite wholesome for them to do that.

“How’s the car?” Y/N asked

“Could be better” Jenson shrugged “It’s kind of basic but I hope we can add something to it before Bahrain”

“But were alright with ours. It’s a car that can compete” Lewis pointed out. Nico was nodding his head in agreement “I think we may have a chance against Red Bull this year”

“You always say that every year”Jenson complains.

“Uh huh but this year is finally that year”Lewis proclaimed.

The new regulations were also starting this year and Y/N could tell that there might be a couple of shift. Besides that, there is a new Red Bull driver and no one really knows if the kid will settle to be a 2nd driver or would challenge Sebastian.

Their attention went back to the circuit. They exchanged some oohs and aahs as they hear the car pass by. However in their mind they were all assessing whats the real speed of every car or how good is the driver behind the wheel.

“That’s Daniel Ricciardo���Nico watched as the Red Bull with a shiny number 3 passed them by “The kid is going to be eaten alive by Seb”

“Yeah, I remember how often he DNFed last season. It’s a crazy gamble to put him in the Red Bull seat” Lewis agreed.

Jenson looks slightly pissed by the mention of Sebastian’s name. He wasn’t done with what Sebastian did to Y/N. Even if Y/N have tried to reason out that she will give Sebastian a chance, Jenson was not included in the forgiving Sebastian party.

“Ricciardo had a bad car last year but this year he has the same equipment as Sebastian so maybe give the kid a chance to do something great”Jenson boldly speaks.

“Jenson” a warning from Y/N. There was no need for anyone to know that they have a bad blood with one another. It was an incoming headache for Y/N if Jenson keeps this attitude for the entire season.

The two Mercedes driver looked at the situation in front of them with raised eyebrows. They have heard about the rumored altercations between Sebastian and Jenson in COTA but they were never able to find the perfect timing to ask them what’s that about. It seems like they are just granted an opportunity to ask about it.

“Sooooooooo, that’s a lot of anger for Seb” Nico tiptoed about the topic “Any particular reason why you aren’t in good terms?”

“He is an asshole” was the quick remark of Jenson.

Lewis nudged Y/N as if asking her to elaborate further. Y/N just sighed because she would rather bury herself in a hole than tell the story.

“It’s nothing, its just a minor hiccup for me and Seb”Y/N downplayed.

“Wait hold on, what is this hiccup?”

“Yeah, how long have we been out of loop?”

Jenson took it as a go signal to tell the whole story. It was crazy to see how Lewis and Nico’s reaction started to take different turns. Where Lewis was mad, Nico was getting teary eyed from the whole thing.

“And that’s why I’m still trying to convince Y/N that Sebastian is an asshole” Jenson concluded.

“Damn right she should” Lewis was quick to agree. Jenson gives him a high five because finally someone was on his side and maybe Lewis could help him convince Y/N that giving Sebastian a chance is a bad decision.

“But I think this isn’t something that Sebastian intended”Nico rebutted “He said it himself this was a one time thing and he was drunk”

“Drunk or not, you should never cheat”Lewis fought back.

“You are not thinking this through Lewis”

The sounds were drowned once more by the bickering by the two Mercedes drivers. For Y/N, it was like the battling voices inside her head have been personified by them. She had been doing her best to avoid these types of confrontation especially when there is the Schumacher family that needs her a lot. However, now that she is back at the F1 garages and the races will start soon, she can’t really escape the whole thing.

Jenson moves closer to Y/N. He opted to ignore the fighting duo as well, even if he was the reason for the argument in the first place. Jenson knows that when Lewis and Nico starts arguing then it will take a really long while before they settle anything in peace.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet”Jenson was worried. He knew she was missing from the garages since breakfast and now its nearing 2 in the afternoon but she didn’t have a bite of anything yet. “I sneaked out something for you”

A shiny red apple appeared out of the pockets of his hoodie. It made Y/N smile for the sweet gesture. Although, her mind seems to be playing a déjà vu at her when she remembered how oranges were her favorite fruit, and a certain driver would often give it to her.

If her smile faltered, Jenson didn’t notice with her gracious acceptance of the apple.

��“Thanks J,  you are an angel”

But Y/N never took a bite of the apple. It just rested in her hands, and they continued to watch the cars going around.

2014, Albert Park

Vettel warns against people invading the privacy of the Schumacher family and friends

In the first media of this season, Sebastian Vettel has made it clear that questions about Michael Schumacher will not be entertained. This comes to light after several media has ambushed interview, Y/N Webber, the assistant of Jenson Button, as soon as she arrives at the paddock. During the process, some media have harmed Y/N to stop her for questions. Y/N was the only person, outside of the Schumacher family, that has been present during the accident.

Sebastian has been very strict that the instructions from the Schumacher family were clear that they wanted privacy for the moment. He said that those who will still be pressing for questions will be instantly banned from the paddock. Jenson Button shared the same sentiments, he warned that he will not tolerate this kind of behavior and will sue those who will attempt to do this again. This has received agreements from Jules Bianchi, Nico Rosberg, and Fernando Alonso. The drivers have stated how the media has been quite tactless and did not care for the well-being of the people that they are ambushing.

There are still no news in regards to the update about Michael Schumacher's health. If there are news, the paddock is quiet about it. It is everyone's best hope that Michael is recovering from that horrific accident.

Mark Webber makes a surprise comeback at the paddock.

Hours before free practice started, the former Red Bull driver, returns to the paddock. However, this time around, he is just a casual watcher on the sidelines as he has already hung up the race suits for the 2014 season.

What makes the comeback surprising is when asked who invited him, the Australian said that he was there as a guest of Sebastian Vettel. Surely, after all the drama from the infamous Multi 21 incident, everyone can't believe that they seem close as buddies now. Mark couldn't help but agree because he was just as shocked when Sebastian called him.

"I really appreciate that Sebastian is a good person and decides to place our difference aside. I was very worried for my sister when I heard what happened to her yesterday. Seb was quick to help me reach her and assures me that she is taken care of."

2014, Sepang International Circuit

"You are a tough man to find Vettel"

All that Sebastian was to have a night for himself and get some rest at his hotel room yet Jenson Button stans before him. It seems like the universe has other plans for him tonight. With the jetlag, Sebastian was in no mood to dodge a punch.

"Can we just talk about this tomorrow? I just arrived and I want to catch some sleep"Sebastian tried to reason out.

Jenson placed a hand in front of his chest, "I just need a quick word with you and then I'll leave"

"What do you want?"

"Mark told me what you did."Jenson started "He told me that you told him everything that you did. You asked for his forgiveness. You let him punch you. You even confessed how hopelessly in love with Y/N"

Even Sebastian was surprised by his actions. Years ago, he vehemently denied that he has any romantic feelings for Y/N in front of Mark and their team principal. Now, he was ready to admit the truth. Maybe it was a helpful factor that Mark is retired and can no longer kill him in the circuit.

"Yeah and what about it?"

"Is this some kind of strategy or some trick? What are you playing at?" Jenson questioned. His tone was a warning to Sebastian that if he is trying any games then Jenson wouldn't mind a repeat of COTA last year.

"There is no game here. I'm just being honest" Sebastian admits.

"Bullshit"

The hotel lobby was quite empty and quiet. There were no one who got curious by the rising voice of the McLaren driver. Sebastian placed his bags down to explain himself.

"I get that you don't trust me and I know how much you hate me for what I did to Y/N. But I am doing my best to show her that I'll be a better person and a person who is worthy of her. If I have to crawl to hell and back for the Webber's forgiveness before being able to court her then so be it. I know that I made a mistake and this is me owning up to it. I want to be a better person because I don't know what she sees in me but she still gave me a chance. She deserves better and I'm trying to do that"

The intense gaze between the two of them prevailed.

Jenson was assessing how much bullshit was said by Sebastian however he could see how much genuine Sebastian is. After all, Mark has sent him here to verify if Sebastian is fooling around or if he is serious about Y/N. Jenson could hate Sebastian all he wants but it doesn't change the fact that Sebastian truly loves Y/N.

"Okay, I'm leaving now"Jenson curtly ended the conversation.

There was nothing left for him to say. Even if he wanted to punch Sebastian, his job is done and now he has to inform Mark that Sebastian is dead serious and most of all fully in love.

He could just miserably laugh as he realized his heart has taken another wound that could never be healed.

2014, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

Martin Brundle was walking down the grid as per usual. He was looking for someone to interview today since there was still a few hours before the race starts. The garages were filled with mechanics rolling around equipment and some VIP celebrities who are keeping their head low.

The thought of the current leader, Lewis Hamilton pops in his mind but the Mercedes driver is nowhere to be found. Martin thinks about a driver to interview when he collides with a driver in a racer suit.

"Oh sorry Martin, I didn't see you there" Sebastian apologizes. The Red Bull driver was focused on peelung the orange that he has in his hand that he wasn't looking on his pathway.

"Seb could we have a quick word for you for Grid Walk?" Martin knew that opportunities like this shouldn't be taken for granted. He was asking for someone to interview and then the Gods made him collide with last year's world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

The German driver seems to be in a hurry but he was not someone that turns down Martin, "sure, go on and ask"

The cameras have been quick to work and recenter the two of them into the frame. Sebastian grinned at the camera as he holds the microphone with his free hand.

"So what do you think of people saying that you have been in a drought for wins?" Martin asked.

It was something that may get on the nerves of the driver but Martin asked questions that people wants to know. However, the Red Bull driver just smiles and there were no ill show of feelings.

"I'm still competing and I still get my podiums. I just need to work better and we're doing our best to get better"Sebastian answered.

"You seem like a change man. You used to be so mad when you don't win"

"I still am Martin" Sebastian chuckles "However, I don't beat myself a lot as I used to. I tend to be happier and focus on what's important in my life"

"And that important thing would be?"

Now there was a coy smile for Sebastian. It was the usual teasing antics that the media has been used to, "Well that is for me to know and you to find out Martin"

"Appreciate you being here today Sebastian"Martin concludes "Sebastian Vettel everybody"

"Cheers Martin"

The cameras stopped rolling and Sebastian was quick to run to where he was going.

Martin noticed how Sebastian made a beeline towards the McLaren garage, where someone embraced him. He was usually good recognizing faces in the paddock but the woman was shielded away from the view of everybody. In Martin's thoughts, this was a clear indication that Sebastian was keeping this relationship private.

But it was clear that this woman is someone important for Sebastian to trespass garages for. Martin didn't miss how Sebastian handed the peeled oranges to her. It didn't take a lot for Martin to realize that this was the important thing that Sebastian was talking about.

"What a young love for the world champion" Martin muttered under his breath.

[anorlondo00]

MarAce One Piece Fic - The Apartment Above the Auto Shop

Edward Newgate had a terrible habit of hiring fatherless, trouble-making punks in need of direction to work at his auto parts garage.

Recently, he’s hired a 20 year old who’s currently on parol and struggling to raise his 12 year old brother on his own.

When Marco (29) moves back to his home city, he’s hesitant to trust the new hire, who’s living rent free above Pop’s auto shop.

Sunday night. 

“Hold on,” Marco navigated over the maze of suitcases and half folded clothes on the floor of his apartment, “You’re not charging him rent? Who even is this kid?”

“I knew his father, years ago.” In the incredibly rare circumstance that Whitebeard had to lie to Marco, he would do so, effortlessly. “An old friend of mine. The kids’ had a hard life, he’s raising a twelve year old on his own— ”

“Sorry, there’s two of them?”

Marco had to hold his cellphone an inch off his ear while Whitebeard laughed, “The little ones’ in school, the older one works hard enough to earn their rent! Relax, Marco. Ace is a sweetheart.”

“This is the one you let steal food out of your fridge for half the summer?”

“That’s the one!” Whitebeard replied, “He doesn’t do that anymore.”

Edward Newgate had a terrible habit of hiring fatherless, trouble-making punks in need of direction to work at his auto parts garage. He’d been teaching scrappy kids how to keep their heads down and put their hands to work for the better part of the last twenty years. Now, he’s accumulated a crew of mechanics that he considers family. 

Marco was one of the first front desk employees Whitebeard hired and his most talked about success story. As of the end of this school year, Marco had officially earned his medical degree. He was a doctor. A very proud one at that. 

“When should we be expecting you for dinner?”

“We?” 

“Sure.” Newgate’s voice filled with warmth, “I’ve been teaching Ace how to cook. He’s pretty decent, now, I can actually keep it down!” Again, Marco kept his phone off his ear for the laughter that followed. “We eat at—”

“Six and not a minute later. I remember.” Marco attempted to rub the feeling of burnout from under his eyes. A home cooked meal sounded nice if it weren’t for the addition of a twelve year old and his fresh-out-of-prison older brother. “I’ve got an entire apartment to unpack so, I’ll have to see you Tuesday.”

“Everyone’s excited to have you back.”

Marco smirked at the campus outside his window, a view he was more than ready to say goodbye to. “I’m pretty excited myself.” 

“Drive safely, alright? And, don’t keep us waiting too long.”

Marco had a week before orientation. One week to unpack, re acclimate, and check on the shop before his entire life was signed away to the emergency room.

 His home was in a densely populated, urban oasis just outside a much larger city. Nothing like the wide empty fields and quant college town his medical school was at the center of. It’d take him four hours of driving to get back to the chaos of pissed drivers and electric bikes zipping through tight lanes of traffic.

No place like home. 

Tuesday Afternoon.

Whitebeard’s Auto Parts and Mechanic was printed in beautiful white penmanship across the top of an old brick building. It stood proudly on a corner off the city's main boulevard. 

Just as Marco remembered, the two, truck sized garage doors were wide open, giving the mechanics plenty of room and fresh air. 

Marco walked through the garage like he’d never left and was more than pleased to see how little things had changed. It could only be Thatch’s playlist blasting that music. Izou’s artwork, while updated was unmistakably his, decorating the brick walls. And, Teetch’s old chevy in the same damn parking spot outside. 

“No… fucking… way.” A voice came out  from under the hood of a truck. The man had a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and red hair gelled back out of his face. “Is that Marco?!” Thatch got to him first. Which was a little terrifying, considering the man was about six feet too big to be hugging someone with a tackle. “Marco!!”

The blond scrambled to stay on his feet, “Okay! Alright—Hi Thatchy— ” 

“Marco’s home, you guys! Holy shit, I can’t believe it! Look at you!” 

The mechanics under cars and occupied in the adjacent office all came to have a look. The prodigal son had returned and Whitebeard’s shop erupted in celebration. Marco had to abandon his backpack on the floor, there were just too many hugs that needed to be given. Izou came sauntering out of the front office, looking beautifully overdressed as always. His gold and silver bracelets rang as he wrapped his arms around Marco’s shoulders. 

“Thatch, do you even realize you’re talking to a medical professional now?” Izou smiled widely, “Congratulations, Doctor.”

“Thanks, Izou.”

“I saw your graduation pictures. Pops has them hung up in his office, you’ll have to take a look.” 

“He’s blushing!” Thatch delivered a solid punch into Marco’s arm. “How cute. Yes, we’re all very very proud. You’re gonna hook me up with a medical marijuana card, right?”

“Thatch, you gotta stop telling people that.” 

“Right, right—” His best friend smiled, “I missed you, man!”

“I missed you too.” 

“Where the hell is Marco?!” Whitebeard’s gravely deep voice could shake the walls. The old man emerged from his office and while his question sounded hostile enough to make a normal person run for their damn lives, it overwhelmed Marco with nostalgia and a sense of home. “Lets see him— What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Moving so far away from me?!”

Marco smilied, “I came back! That doesn’t count for something?”

“Yeah it’s the only thing keeping my foot out of yer ass!” Newgate hugged him. His mentor smelled like cigarettes, booze and motor oil. While age had been shrinking him for years now, Newgate was still built like one hell of a beast; he made most grown men feel short. 

“Hi Pops.”

“Hi yourself!” Newgate dropped a heavy hand against his back. “Have you eaten yet? We’re having lunch. Thatch, get over here, it’s time for your damn break.”

Thatch grabbed onto Marco’s arm and pulled him towards the back door with all the enthusiasm of a little kid. “I’ll make us something. Pops! Did Ace pick up groceries for you yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Newgate retrieved Marco’s forgotten backpack and gestured for Izou to follow them. “Have a look in the kitchen, Thatch, it’s stocked up.”

There was plenty his mechanics liked to do for the old man but grocery shopping wasn’t one of them last Marco remembered. 

Whitebeard lived by himself, out of a small home directly behind the auto parts garage. As they crossed from one location to another, Whitebeard's uneven, slow gate seemed so much more severe than how it had been a few months back. As the four of them filed into the kitchen, Marco couldn’t help his curiosity. “The boys have been taking good care of you, then?”

“Oh spare me.” Newgate retrieved a fist full of beers from the fridge and set them on the counter, “Like I need to be taken care of.”

“We try.” Izou supplied, “But, you know how he is. It’s nice having someone living in your old apartment again. Ace is usually around if he needs anything.” 

There were old metal steps that lead out of the warehouse of Newgate’s shop. On the second floor there was a dusty little apartment Marco lived out of for nearly ten years before leaving for medical school. “I can’t imagine someone else being in there.”

“Yeah, you definitely decorated better.” Izou got a laugh out of the room. “You haven't met Ace yet, have you? You’ll like him.” 

“What will I like about him most, the ankle monitor?”

Surprisingly, it was Thatch that gave him a quick slap to the shoulder. “You seriously need to be nice to him, dude”

“I do?”

“Marco, I’ll strangle you with my own two hands.”

“Alright alright, damn.” Marco cracked open the bottle of beer he was given. Marco knew damn well he had no place to be judgemental. It was Pops he worried about. “So where is this new golden child then?”

“A check-in with his parole officer.” Whitebeard said more seriously, “He’ll probably pick up Luffy from school on his way back this afternoon.”

“Luffy’s the younger brother?”

Thatch, who had gotten to work seasoning chicken breast, sang over his shoulder, “And possibly the cutest little kid in the world~” 

“Next time we’re all together, I’m sure they’d let you look around your old apartment again.” Izou chimed, “If you're dying to go up there and reminisce.”

Marco smirked, “A little. It’s been such a long time.” 

Marco would have to wait a bit longer before he met Whitebeard's new pride and joy. He inhaled Thatch’s cooking— which he missed far more than he would ever admit— finished a second beer and a dozen more stories about the hospitals he rotated through. 

Marco left that afternoon with a box of leftovers and the promise that he’d bring his car in for an oil change before the week was over. 

Tuesday morning.

Marco would remember the auto shop’s schedule until the day he died and Tuesday mornings were always dead. One, maybe two mechanics would run the whole place until the afternoon. Considering Pop’s would rather keel over and die before accepting money from him, Marco preferred his car be as little an inconvenience for the shop as possible. 

Marco could feel the heat stick to his skin the second he left his apartment. Considering summer was nearly over, there was no reason for it to be this damn hot outside. 

AC. He needed to ask them to take a look at his AC while he was at it.

Like he’d done for the past 15 years of his life, Marco pulled his 2012 Subaru directly into the empty garage of Pop’s auto shop. He would have made an immediate comment on the pop-punk garbage blasting in the speakers if it weren’t for the loud string of curses he heard coming out of the front office to greet him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! Hey asshole!” The young man wore a mechanic’s jumpsuit with  the top half of it hanging loose around his hips. Sweat stuck his jet black hair to the sides of his face and neck. “You can’t just roll your car into the garage!” He threw his arms out to gesture to the rest of the shop, “You gotta check in, I need information from you and shit.” 

Marco climbed out of the driver's seat and leaned over the top of his door. “Whitebeard knows I’m dropping off for an oil change today.”

“I don’t give a shit. You see all the equipment to run over in your cute little Subaru? Park in the lot next time like everyone else.” He propped up the hood of Marco’s car. 

It’s not like he was wrong, it was just the sheer hostility that was unexpected. Marco couldn’t help the chuckling that bubbled up in his throat. “Okay. If it helps, I sincerely apologize.” 

In his adult life, Marco considered himself picky who he found attractive. He wasn’t one to leer at little waisted, broad shouldered, young men with freckles and shaggy haircuts. But, here he was leering while he was getting yelled at. 

“When was your last oil change Mr. Subaru Outback?”

“I’m overdue,” Marco admitted, “Sixteen hundred miles ago?”

“Yikes.” He cleaned the dipstick from Marco’s car with a rag that was within reach. “You’re friends with Pops and he let you go this long without an oil change?”

“I’ve been in school.”

“So, you’re a smart guy?” 

“I’d like to think so.”

The raven haired man took a few steps closer to Marco. The half a foot height difference between them didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He tapped the tip of the dipstick against Marco’s chest and challenged him with a smirk. “Five thousand to seven thousand miles would be my recommendation, Smart guy.”

Punk . 

“Got it.”

“Are you going to wait around or pick it up?”

Marco couldn’t help himself, “Does it take you so long to change the oil that I should leave?”

The mechanic’s eyes snapped up from the car to Marco. “Twenty minutes, Dick.” 

“Then, I’ll wait.” 

He pulled a clipboard off its hook on the wall. He crossed one ankle over the other, clicked the back of his pen against his hip and began filling in what would eventually be a receipt. While he waited. Marco finally noticed the ankle monitor, blinking a little green light just above Ace’s boot and peeking out from under the right leg of his jumpsuit.

This was Ace? Gorgeous face, insufferable shit starter? Right up Pops’s ally.

As if on cue, Whitebeard’s old truck came rolling into the parking lot behind them. The old man climbed out of it slowly and made his way into the garage holding an ice coffee in each hand. “Marco!”

“Marco!?” Ace echoed, his nose crunched up into a sneer. 

Whitebeard put one of the coffee cups in Ace’s hand, who took it despite the fact that he looked completely stunned. Marco had never seen the wheels in someone’s head turn so visibly. 

“I told you about him, Ace. Don’t look so surprised.” Newgate plucked the clipboard out of his hands and held it at arms length while he read it. “…And you were going to over charge him… If he was paying, which he won’t be. It's sixty eight for an oil and filter change, you wrote eighty six.”

“Sounds like me.”

“Yeah, sounds like you.” Whitebeard smacked his arm with the clipboard. “This is Marco, my first protégé. He’s been upstate for medical school, just moved back this week. He used to live in your apartment.”

“You’re kidding.” Ace said between sips of his coffee. He extended his hand out to Marco and Marco shook it. “Fuckin— my bad man. I thought you were just some asshole.”

“Is it an eighteen dollar surcharge for assholes?”

“Minimum—”

“Wrong.” Whitebeard said as he turned away from them. “I have to make a few calls. Give Marco’s car a thorough once over. Whatever he needs and do not accept a fucking dime from him.”

The kid might have been a lost cause for numbers and customer service but at least he knew what he was doing under a car. Ace kicked over one of the old scooters that had probably been around since before Marco’s time. He laid back on it and rolled beneath the Subaru with the kind of grace only muscle memory could provide. 

Marco watched his boots while he worked. “So, how long have you been here? Considering you don’t know the price of an oil change.”

“Can you say that a little louder? I want Pops to hear you making fun of the dyslexic kid.” Marco heard the flow of old oil as Ace removed the drain plug, “Two years— I don’t know. I worked for Pops for probably…  four—five months. I got put away for six months and he hired me back when I got out. I’ve been here since.” 

“What’d they get you for?”

“Arson. Burned the last shop I worked at to the ground.”  Ace rolled himself out from under the car in time to get a look at Marco’s deeply troubled face. He flashed the tips of his K9s while he smirked. “I’m kidding. It wasn't anything interesting, I promise.” He pulled himself to his feet and moved onto addressing the old filter that’d been rotting in Marco’s Subaru for the past seventeen hundred miles. “Since we’re on the subject of asking personal questions, are you responsible for the vomit green paint in my kitchen?”

“Your kitchen?”

“Yeah, and the tiny little couch with bricks for cushions. You graduated medical school and thought that couch was okay? I couldn’t even sell that fucking thing, Marco.”

“The space you’re filling is hardly big enough to be called a living room.” Marco hummed, “It was the only couch that fit.”

No one could match the level of sheer animation in Ace’s repulsed expression, “If I knew my doctor thought it was reasonable to buy that couch, I’d find a new doctor.” 

It was difficult, deciding whether Ace was the most annoying person he’d ever met or a half decent comedian. He’d never seen anyone enjoy bickering so much. “If I keep listening to you complain, you’ll take a look at my AC while you’re over there, right?”

Ace clicked his tongue, “What’s wrong with your AC?”

“You tell me Mr. Mechanic. It doesn’t run cold.”

Ace released a long, mournful sigh, “Poor little Subaru. Falling apart at the seams.”

“It’s not that old.”

“Really? Because, Rush’s greatest hits on CD would suggest otherwise.” Ace chuckled, reading off the open black CD case tossed on the passenger's seat. “Don't get me wrong, I like classic rock. AC/DC, The Beatles, and Queen, are all on this playlist—”

“I can’t stand AC/DC.” 

Ace’s jaw fell open. Clearly, he had a love for theatrics because the way he set down the oil filter looked choreographed for a dramatic stage play. Ace turned his shoulders slowly to face Marco, the very epitome of heartbreak and betrayal warping his expression. Ace swallowed, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see how wound up you’d get.” Marco's relaxed demeanor finally cracked. He started laughing the minute Ace became self aware. 

“Oh—you can go fuck yourself!” His pretty bronze skin flushed with warmth. “I’m glad you’re fucking with me becahse I’d never let you leave this garage alive if you ment that. Don’t scare me like that. Shit!”

“You’re saying you’d kill me if I didn’t like AC/DC.”

“Marco, I don’t make the rules of the Garage, I simply abide by them.”

His laughter snapped off the second he heard his name. “Marco.”  Whitbeard’s voice cut through their conversation suddenly enough to make him jump. Newgate had taken to standing in the doorframe off his office, arms folded over his chest. There was a pause before he stated very simply, “C’mere a minute.”

The younger men exchanged glances before Marco excused himself. 

He was let into the office first, then Newgate followed and shut the door behind them. The unmoving, fierce look in the old man’s eyes reminded Marco of the old days at the shop. Whitebeard was infamous for shaking down customers who refused to pay, or thugs who thought it’d be a good idea to steal motorcycle parts from the garage. Marco cocked an eyebrow, “Everything okay?”

“Listen— I’m only going to say this once.“ Newgate crossed the office towards his desk in heavy footsteps. He rubbed at the deep elevens between his eyes. “Don’t get involved with Ace.”

“Hm?” Marco’s confusion only grew, “I…beg your pardon?”

“Whatever it is you’re doing...” Newgate waved his hand in the general direction of the garage, “None of that. Don’t flirt with him, don’t distract him, don’t confuse him.”

Marco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Flirting? He was pretty sure he hadn’t tried to flirt in the past four years of his life. He let out a breathy laugh and looked over his shoulder like Whitebeard had to be talking to someone else. “…You’re not being serious.”

“I’m serious. He’s got too much on his plate right now and frankly, he’s too young for you.”

“Wow.” Marco had to repeat Newgate’s words in his head a few times to fully digest it. He scoffed. Ace was a hyperactive, one volume only, shit starter. The very idea that someone interpreted their conversation as flirtatious had to be a joke. “First of all—” He could feel his face heating up, “I’m not sure what kind of sleazy character you think I am. Secondly, you honestly think my type is the guy with a tattoo of his name spelled wrong?”

Whitebeard leveled Marco with an unamused glare. Clearly, the idea that he may have  misinterpreted things, hadn’t crossed his mind. “Listen, I gave Teach the same lecture.”

“Teach? I’m on the same level as Teach?” Marco clicked his tongue in disgust, “Well, you can rest easy. I promise you— I guarantee you, I have zero interest. Not my type.” Marco propped a hand on his hip, “But truthfully, I’m a little insulted you think you can dictate who I flirt with anyway.” 

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Marco. I haven't ordered you around in the past ten years. You’re an adult. The people you date should be none of my business.” Whitebeard's reply was very matter-of-fact. Marco had thought he heard the threat from his tone disappear completely before it all came rushing back. Whitebeard leaned in, his voice fell an octave and Marco swore he saw death themselves behind the old man’s eyes, “Unless it’s my kid you’re talking to. So, I’m telling you right now Marco, knock it off.”

If you liked this, there’s more on AO3 ;)

Thanks for reading!

[ranidspace]

we're a year out from windows 10 being considered End Of Life, on October 14 2025. it will no longer recieve updates, including security updates.

Security updates are INSANELY important these days, it feels like some insane security flaw gets found out and promptly fixed every month these days. running an unpatched version of an operating system puts a target on you and puts your computer and your home network at risk. It is rare to be attacked in that way, yes, but don't take the risk. Your two options:

Windows 11

The issue with windows 11 is not that it's bad, it's just that it adds and changes a bunch of shit for no reason, and for that i recommend installing Winaero Tweaker. This is a program that changes registries and settings on your computer to disable all the telemetry, remove the dumbass microsoft copilot and cortana shit, bring back the old right click menu, the old taskbar, and a bunch more options. It's available for Windows 10 as well, if you're not on windows 11 yet, please check out this program anyway, there's plenty of things you may want to change. It is one of the first things i always install on a new windows computer.

Once you have customized it a bit, there really isnt much of a difference between windows 10 and 11. they just added more bullshit, which you can mostly disable.

Linux

i would deal with fucked up drivers and lightly buggy programs if i never had to deal with windows again.

If you just use your computer to browse the web and manage files, talk to people on discord and shit, linux works perfectly. You will never have to look into a command prompt if you don't want to.

If you do work on it, you may miss some programs, but basically just microsoft office and adobe suite. Office is basically covered by LibreOffice (and works on windows too if you wanna try it out), but it's a bit harder with adobe suite programs. You wanna look at individual programs which you use to see what works for you.

If you play games, it depends. With the success of the steam deck, more and more games are working towards compatibility on linux. Even then, out of the top 1000 games on steam, 85% are compatible with linux, with only 4% straight up refusing. Minecraft works good with prism launcher (again, use this even if you're on windows) roblox works with sober(idk what other non-steam games there are), emulation works amazingly, theres nvidia drivers for it, it's good.

Like theres a bit more setup and some more troubleshooting needed when something goes wrong, but it is so fucking nice to just not have to deal with Windows Bullshit.

I recommend Kubuntu, though i've heard a lot of support for Linux Mint. I'd be happy to answer any other linux questions lol

[gavisuntiedboot]

Can you do Gavi as a Dom w a degrading k!nk where he gets really frustrated and snaps after she's acting like a brat/teasing him at a black tie event (srry this is SO specific :'))

A/N: Holy month is over, back to the depths of depravity. Also, do y'all have a group chat where you just together and come to a consensus for request ideas?? Like my inbox is 40% "PLEASE GAVI DOM", 40% "PLEASE GAVI SUB", 15% "UPDATE UR FUCKING SERIES", and 5% everything else.

SMUT!! SMUTTTTT!! KIDS GO AWAYYYY

warnings: very rough smut. Idk how else to describe it just be warned !!

~

Black Satin

"Don't be nervous, mi amor. All you need to do is smile for some pictures and clap when the speeches end."

You rested your hand gentle on Gavi's thigh, his leg bouncing as he stared outside of the car window at the city passing by. You had grown used to this life - walking red carpets, smiling for cameras, being confident yet humble as interviewers begged the question of who you were wearing. It was just a part of your job. But Pablo, on the other hand, was not accustomed to these events, nor did he really enjoy them. The spotlight was something that caused him a great deal of stress, as he was always nervous about messing up or looking foolish, especially compared to your cool and collected self.

He snapped his gaze away from the window at the sound of your voice, moving from the window to your hand resting on his thigh. He released his lip from between his teeth, taking a deep but shaky breath.

"Not nervous. Just... thinking of what I'm going to say."

You looked in Gavi's eyes with love as you hand moved up slightly, rubbing soothing circles into his thigh. The muscle tensed beneath your fingertips, and he rested his hand on top of yours.

"What are you doing?" He asked, slight suspicion in his voice, but his tone still calm and even. Crossing your legs, you leaning in closer to Gavi, legs touching and your chest pressed against his bicep. He shivered from the feeling of your breath against his ear, whispering softly as to not occupy too much of the driver's attention.

"What do you think I'm doing?" You inched your hand further up his thigh, feeling his grip on your skin tighten. "Or rather, what do you want me to do?"

You weren't normally like this. Private life, in your opinion, should be kept private. PDA, public teasing, risky touches - they weren't something that you often partook in. You preferred to stay classy in public, shy glances and the occasional hand-hold, and leave your more crazy, freaky brat personal to the bedroom. But today, you were missing Gavi's touch more fiercely, a fire burning just beneath the surface of your skin that only Pablo could extinguish. And it made you care less than normal - prevented you from caring at all.

Gavi almost went into medical shock upon discovering your bedroom personality. You were not the most loud or explicit person in your day-to-day, but when he undressed you for the first time, planning to lay you against his mattress, wondering if you would be confident enough to let a moan or two pass between your lips, he found his own back pressed to the pillows. Before he knew it, there was a hand in his hair and another around his neck. Pressed against the headboard, Gavi's thoughts raced: what had possessed you? Your teeth found purchase in his bottom lip, heat pooling in your stomach as you heard Pablo moan at the feeling.

"Come on, Pablito. Show me how good I make you feel."

Since that day, Pablo had been in top cardiac shape to keep up with your high sex drive and wild bedroom personality. Most days he would walk into the locker room with dark purple bruises on his lower stomach and V-line, subtle scratch marks littering his throat and collar bones. The boys had not believed his shy confession that they were caused by you. They couldn't have been. How could the sweet, soft-spoken thing that bit her lip on the sidelines during stressful games cause this much damage?

The proof was here before him, sitting in the seat beside him, a demon draped in black satin, hand caressing his thigh higher and higher while batting perfectly mascara-ed lashes and feigning innocence. Gavi's expression hardened, and he shot you a stern look while you still played dumb. Your lips were close enough to capture between his own, showing you exactly what he thought of your little antics, but he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him lose his cool in front of the driver.

As much as you were a surprising brat, Gavi was an even more surprising dom. Unlike on the field, he had a surprisingly long and patient countenance when with you, but when you finally pushed him too far, there was no such thing as mercy. He would edge you for hours, making you recite all the reasons you didn't deserve his touch. He was not afraid to be forceful with you, leaving your skin red and welted as you tried to count through the sobs and heavy breaths, fearful he would make you start over. But Gavi always, without fail, brought you to the highest of highs, leaving you screaming his name repeatedly, the only word still present in the puddle that was your brain.

He turned his head, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, as he whispered back.

"I want you to behave." His eyes met yours once again, displeasure settling into his features. He did not want to discipline you in public, but would if he needed to.

"But what if i don't want to?" You purred in return, moving your hand up to his crotch. Before you could grab him, he gripped your wrist tight and swiftly removed it.

"Not tonight. I'm not playing around with you. If there way any day to be a good girl, it's today. Or else."

~

The red carpet went off without a hitch. You stood on Gavi's arm, smiling brightly and waving as he stood sternly, arm around your waist, wishing the photographers would be done quicker. As the two of you ventured inside, you collided with Alejandro, chests pressed against each other. You rested your hands against the chiseled muscle to stabilize yourself, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage.

"So sorry, Ale. I'll try and be more careful." You said, voice soft as you batted your eyelashes, hands unmoving. Gavi called your name, and you broke your contact with Ale and sauntered over to your boyfriend, who once again returned a protective arm around your waist.

"You think letting my team mate have a free strip tease is behaving?" He asked, voice low and head turned so the cameras couldn't catch the movements of his lips.

"If you want me to behave, we could go to the bathroom right now. I'd behave real well." You giggled out, breasts pressed against his clothed bicep.

"You're acting like a bitch in heat. You need to stop being greedy and wait. Unless you want to get on your knees here on the marble flooring." He said, grip almost painful but not quite. You were getting him riled up - you knew that much was certain. But you wanted to see how far you could take it.

The two of you mingled with several people in the room, you dripping off of Gavi's arm like a crown jewel, him the soldier sworn to protect it. As he engrossed himself in a conversation with his teammates, you slipped off his arm, wandering around looking for another waitress carrying a tray full of champagne. You were quickly approached by several other men, all of them trying to get you to give them the time of day now that your scary dog of a boyfriend wasn't nearby. You laughed as you ignored their advances, but that didn't stop Gavi from pressing up behind you upon finding you in the crowd.

"Ready for dinner?" He asked, voice practically dripping with malice. You followed him to the table, and he refused to release you from his grip, fearful you would scamper off to cause more chaos. Pulling out your chair, he helped you sit, before leaning in and muttering "You're going to fucking get it when we get home," quiet enough for no one else to hear, but loud enough to have you push your thighs together in anticipation. He then sat across from you, believing it the best move after your stunt in the car. He was already plotting how he was going to punish you at the end of the evening, deciding between too little or too much.

Dinner was worse than Gavi could have anticipated. You slipped off your stiletto, slowly drawing your foot up Gavi's leg and resting it atop his bulge, half hard and waiting for more attention. You moved your leg slowly, palming him as he tried to enjoy his second course. The players immediately beside him took some notice of his heavier breathing, but made no comment, enjoying their respective conversations. As the plates were cleared away, Pablo stood abruptly, excusing himself to go to the restroom. You made a move to follow, but he turned to look at you, eyes conveying pure wrath, making you stay in your seat.

With Gavi gone, you turned your attention elsewhere - mainly to the other Pablo sat beside you. Torre filled out his suit jacket nicely, arms snug in the material as he rested his elbows on the table, laughing lightly at the comments made by the other boys. You bit to yourself, something akin to pure evil coursing through your veins as you watched the subtle flexes of muscle under restricting black fabric. A hand on a bicep, an innocent smile.

"Pablo, have you been lifting more weights recently? You look amazing." Followed by a firm grasp of his bicep and a wink - nothing more.

This was the line that got you in a world of trouble.

It was whispered among the guests, jested amongst the boys, and circulated in secretive group chats. Gavi's girl was all up on another Pablo, telling him how good he looked, snowballing (as rumors often do) into reports that she had leaned against him, bare thigh an invitation for his advances. Gavi had broken. He was no longer trying to hide the malintent in his eyes: he was going to make you pay.

~

Nothing could have prepared you for what came next. You expected Pablo to turn cold, ignore you after you flirted with his namesake, but the opposite was true. He stayed at your side, hand firm around your waist as you two mingled with the other guests after dinner. He never let you out of his sight, even walking to the car with you in his grasp.

It started the second the sleek black vehicle pulled out of the parking lot. You were staring out the window, all but giddy. You had finally found the confidence to be a brat in public, and you knew it was about to yield results. He place a hand on your shoulder, drawing your attention, and slowly moved it up to your jaw, thumb playing with your lower lip.

"Enjoy yourself this evening, princesa?"

The deepness in his voice when he got angry was unparalleled by any sound on this earth. Sure you had seen him aggravated in games, when his voice got louder and higher, swearing at other players. But this was a different realm. He spoke slowly and clearly, voice audible but soft. If his usual state was fire and sparks, then this was lava, magma, flowing slowly yet burning even hotter than its flashy counterpart.

You nodded slowly, making a move to lick at his thumb, maybe capture it in your teeth and continue your teasing game. Gavi was rather private, after all, and would never discipline you in front of the poor unsuspecting driver. Or so you thought. No sooner had your tongue made contact with the pad of his finger did you feel the impact on your cheek. The sting and slight burn of the smack had your eyes watering and thighs pushed together. You looked back at Pablo, whose eyes were still dark and lips in their natural downturn.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, thinking you can just act however you like, but you should know better."

Another smack, which caused you to push your thighs even closer together, a gasp of pleasure exiting your lips. The second sound of skin to skin contact had the driver looking in his mirror nervously. He contemplated putting up the partition or intervening if you were hurt. Gavi let out a loud "tch", grabbing you by the jaw and turning your head.

"Look what you've done now. Worrying this poor man whose job is just to drive us, not to deal with your bad behavior. I think you need to show him you're sorry."

The driver heard a soft "I'm sorry" leave your lips, and he opened his mouth to reassure Gavi that it was okay, he had dealt with celebrity clients before, but he was beat to it.

"Oh no, princesa. You need to apologize properly. You think some empty words from your little whore mouth are going to make this better? No, no. Come here."

Hands were on you instantly, lifting you into Pablo's lap. He sat you on his lap, holding your thighs open with his knees. Your hands shot out to cover the barely-there thong that was the only modesty you had left as you were put on display.

"Move your panties to the side. You want to be a slut? Go all the way. Let him see."

The driver was speechless, eyes completely off the road as he watched you slowly and shakily move the black strip of fabric, revealing your shiny core. It was a good thing that it was late and there weren't too many cars.

"P-Pablo, I'm so-"

"Shut the fuck up. These are the consequences of your own actions, baby girl. You have no one to blame but yourself. You were so eager to put on a show for everything with a penis, so go ahead. You're going to fuck yourself with your fingers, nice and slow so mister can watch while driving."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You had thought your antics would get you some rougher man-handling, a little bit of overstimulation - nothing like what was happening now. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, hole clenching around nothing and still on display to this hired driver.

"Pablo please I'm too shy."

"Oh no, you don't get to be shy when it suits you. You wanted to be bold and bratty today. Lets see how far it gets you. Two fingers in, now. Or I'll edge you until you see your fucking maker."

Meeting the eyes of the driver in the mirror once more, you moved your fingers to your clit, circling it gently. This earned you a swat at your soaked pussy from Gavi, who told you to follow the instructions to a tee. Collecting your slick, you pushed your middle and ring finger in, unable to hold back a moan as you finally filled yourself, relief flowing throughout your system. The driver was speeding now, eager to get to a place where he could park and watch you in earnest.

"Slower, princesa. Give this man a proper show to apologize for being a whore in his car."

Your fingers slowed, and you pumped them into yourself deep and hard. Pablo massaged your thighs, sucking deep purple marks into your neck that were just shy from drawing blood. Your mind was swimming, unable to focus on anything except the feeling of Gavi's lips and the stretch of your fingers.

You were on edge when Pablo grabbed your wrist and instructed you to stop. Opening your eyes, you realized you had arrived at his house, the car no longer speeding down the dark roads. Your eyes watered - you had been so close. The driver was bright red, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Gavi moved you off his lap, pulling out his wallet and handing 50 euros to the scarlet man.

"That's half of what I usually tip, but I think you've gotten more than enough compensation tonight."

The car sat in the drive way for a few minutes as you were ushered into the house, one hand around your shoulders and the other unlocking the doors. Once you two were in the bedroom, you heard your next instruction.

"Strip."

You played with the side zipper of your dress, looking up at Gavi through long lashes.

"What if I don't want to?"

His hand was on your throat in a second, pulling you in so that he could look you in the eyes, the hooded gaze caused by lust and anger turning you on more than you thought possible. He pushed you downwards, your knees hitting the floor, as his hand found new purchase in your hair while the other undid his trousers.

"I'm tired of hearing you talk back. You want to use your mouth? Here."

His cock was roughly shoved between your lips, grazing your teeth slightly, but Pablo didn't seem to care. There was no gentle touches or even a chance for you to move. He held your head still, pushing you as far against him as you would go, hearing you cry out and feeling you gag around him, before pulling out and watching you cough and sniffle from the lack of air. He repeated this motion, abusing the back of your throat. Each time he pulled you around his cock again, he pushed you further, until finally the tip of your nose brushed his abdomen. He held you there, head thrown back in bliss as he felt your throat contract around him, your cries and whimpers only making the experience better.

The burn in your throat was vicious, but it was nothing compared to the fire in your lungs from the lack of air. Black spots were forming on the edge of your vision when Pablo finally pulled you off of him, and you choked out a sob, taking in as much oxygen as you could. He loomed over you, unbuttoning his shirt, cock still hanging glistening and red. He undid his cuffs as well, rolling the sleeves, leaving the white material to billow around his toned chest.

You looked at him with blurry, tear-filled eyes. This is what you had been begging for: Gavi so dominant it was almost cruel, but you loved every single second. You crawled over to him, grasping at the material of his trousers, using him as a support for you to stand when he pushed you back to the floor.

"Stay down there, princesa. I'm not done with your punishment."

You were a puddle on the floor, a mess of tears and saliva and arousal, eager to to anything possible to get off.

"Please Pablo please please please touch me. Want you so bad please I need it."

Your sentences were borderline incoherent as you groveled at his feet, so desperate for his touch you thought you would burst into flames. He walked past you, taking a seat on the edge of the large bed. He beckoned you over, and once again you crawled over to him in the dress you had refused to shed.

"You need it? Of course. How can a cum dump like you live if she's not getting her pussy stretched out? Pathetic. You don't deserve it now, baby, not after the way you acted. So ungrateful and impatient. If you had waited until we got home, you could have had my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Now?" He moved one foot, still clad in leather dress shoes, towards you.

"Get yourself off on my fucking shoe. That's all you deserve, slut."

You had lost all sense and ability to think. Hiking up your skirt, you removed your miniscule thong completely and swiftly sat on top of Gavi's foot, moaning out instantly just from the contact. You rocked yourself back and forth, embarrassingly slick, while you muttered thanks under your breath.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me. You just can't control yourself, can you? You just have to keep getting fucked, over and over - you're never satisfied. Such a hungry little cunt you have there." He said as he flexed his foot, making you gasp out loud at the increased pressure. You kept going, gibberish and Pablo's name falling from your lips.

"Go on, slut. Keep going. Cum just like that - getting yourself off on my fucking shoe."

And you did. You went faster, riding with reckless abandon, no care for how deeply humiliating it was to be cumming this way. But you chased your high, crying out when it crashed over you, and you fell against Gavi, clinging to his leg for stability. You continued to rut against him, riding out your high to the fullest. Coming down from the bliss, your shimmering eyes turned towards Gavi.

“Thank you, Pablo.”

Hand careering your jaw, Pablo held your face gently.

“Aw, my pretty little thing. How cute that you think you’re done.”

~

You knew you should have just taken off that God forsaken dress when he told you to. But of course not - you had to continue to talk back and see how far you could push it.

Pablo had pulled you off the ground, pushing you against the bed and unzipping the dress. He would usually rip it in half, eager to touch you, but he was in no rush. He moved you slowly in your post-orgasmic state, bringing your hands behind your back and tying them together with the gathered fabric. After landing a harsh smack in your ass, he walked out of the room, leaving you bound and face down on the mattress. You wanted to cry out for him, but feared invoking any more of Pablo’s wrath.

He came back in with his torture device: a Hitachi wand. You all but screamed when the wand hit your still puffy clit. The vibrations were intense, sending shock waves through you that were equal parts pleasure and pain.

“Pablo, s’too much. Please I can’t.”

A laugh was heard behind you, drowning out the buzzing sound for a moment. He grabbed you by your bound hands, pulling you up to sit against him. You were grateful for the few seconds of relief from the Hitachi. You were now rested against Gavi’s chest, his skin and shirt a contrast to your sweaty back. He pushed your thighs open with one hand, resuming the assault on your abused cunt.

“Oh sweet thing, yes you can. You’re a good little slut aren’t you? Want to make your papi happy don’t you? Gonna do what I say, pretty girl?”

You were in pain. The pleasure was short circuiting your mind. You wanted to say no, it was enough, you had learned your lesson. But your lips betrayed you.

“Yes, yes so good. I’m good. I’ll be good for you. All for you.”

Pablo brought his free hand up to caress your breast, playing with your sensitive nipples. Your second orgasm came quickly, and Gavi pulled the toy away, pushing you back onto your stomach on the mattress once again. You waited to feel the fabric on your wrists loosen, but it never came. Instead, you felt Pablo pull your hips up so that he could access your poor pussy. You didn’t even have a second to protest before a wet stripe was licked up your slit.

“Papi please no more I can’t!” You were properly crying at this point, breathing hard and tears flowing without pause. The overstimulation was too much. Spots started to form on your vision, and you had no thoughts in your brain other than the feeling of Gavi’s tongue against you.

“When will you learn that this isn’t about you, little girl? This is about me. You’ve been whetting my appetite all day, and now you’re telling me not to eat?”

Three sharp smacks to your ass.

“Absolutely not. I’ll feast until I’m fucking full. I don’t care if you pass out - I’m going to be satisfied.”

And he kept his promise. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked like he was trying to obtain your soul. He alternated to running his tongue all around you, driving you to the absolute brink of insanity.

“Papi.. papi I - cumming, again, I-“

“Don’t you dare.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Gavi was eating you like you were the last morsel on earth, and you weren’t allowed to cum. You began moving your hips, trying to increase the friction against Gavi’s face. You were transcending, ready to cum for a third time and finally ascend to a different plane.

“Please Pablo.”

“Pablo? Me? Or your new fuck buddy?” He asked, shoving two fingers into your soaked hole, causing you to scream. Fuck the neighbors. Fuck everything that wasn’t Gavi bringing you to paradise.

“You, you you papi you I want you- fuck! Please.”

“Who does this whore cunt belong to?”

“You papi!”

“Who else can fuck you this good?”

“No one! Only you. Please, papi, harder.”

Grabbing you by the hair, he pulled you off the mattress. Drool spilled from your lips, tears staining your cheeks as you whimpered in need. He looked you dead in the eye, taking in your fucked out and over stimulated look.

“That’s fucking right. Tell me baby: what are you willing to do for papi’s cock?”

You were so far gone, you just started speaking, words barely making any sense.

“Anything. Any-hnm Anything you want papi. I’ll do anything. I’m yours to fuck and throw around whenever you want. Want you so bad. Please. I don’t deserve it but please give me your cock.”

Pulling you into him, Pablo placed a searing kiss to your lips.

“That’s a good fucking girl.”

Placing you on his cock, he bounced you on his lap, your hands still restrained as you got pounded into. Your body burned and aches from the exertion, but you were drinking in every moment. You buried your face in Pablo’s neck, whimpering and moaning, as he brought a hand around to play with your clit. You were cumming after the first three flicks of your clit, crying out and slumping into Gavi further.

“Come one, princesa, I’m almost there. You’ve done so well for me. So fucking perfect. Love you so much baby. Make me cum.”

You clenched around him at the words, and he spilled inside you, finally slowing and releasing you from his bruising grip. You were marked all over, laying face down as the exhaustion crept in. A minute after Gavi untied your hands, you drifted to sleep, naked with his seed dripping out of you slowly.

~

The following morning, you awoke cuddled into Gavi’s bare chest, his fingers caressing your hair gently. Your legs were sore, making you groan slightly. You felt Pablo’s lips pressed to your forehead.

“Good morning, princesa. Sleep well?”

“Like a corpse.”

You both giggled lightly just staring at each other lovingly, enjoying the morning afterglow. Pablo’s phone rang, and he answered the line.

“Hello? Yes, speaking…. Wait what? But.. yeah okay. No problem. Charge it to my card on file. Take care.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Car company from yesterday. Driver apparently ran three reds on our way home.”

~~

A/N: GUYYYYSSSSS I SUBMIT MY THESIS TONIGHTTTTTTTT IM SO EXCITED!!! I’ll keep y’all posted on when I actually do it. So close to grad I’m scared but excited. Anyways, like, comment, reblog, give feedback - the works. Love ya!! <<33

[augustjustice]

you wanna feel how it feels? (let's exchange the experience) 3/?

Part 2 | AO3 Link

Notes: Sorry it took a minute for the next chapter of this one! I spent a lot of June and July focused on some event fics and then had a small bout of writer's block after. School's starting back up soon, so updates may continue to be slow going--but they will come, I promise. This fic is a personal favorite, so it remains a top priority for me.

After a brief kerfluffle of Steve taming his signature hair until it was styled to suit him–using the emergency Farah Fawcett spray he kept in the Beemer, and, oh, Eddie had no plans of ever letting him live that one down–they were off. 

As he backed out of the Munson’s drive, Steve slung his arm across the back of the passenger’s seat, the same way he always did, and Eddie told himself he definitely didn’t get the same fluttering butterflies in his stomach as he always did at the gesture. Because it was ridiculous on a good day, to feel that way over such an innocuous thing–and even more so given their current situation. 

Now that they were heading for Dustin’s place, an awkward silence fell between them. The tension in the small space of the car was only intensified by the fact that things were usually so easy between them the rest of the time.

But…these weren’t exactly usual times. A fact that was damn near impossible to ignore when it was quite literally staring them in the face.

Steve kept tapping his finger nervously at the steering wheel, hand stroking his chin as he very deliberately and obviously turned his face towards the driver’s side window. Eddie couldn’t stop fidgeting in place in his seat, reaching to fiddle with his rings before he remembered yet again that they weren’t there and found his thoughts tailspinning once more. 

As the car rolled towards town, they couldn’t stop casting curious, sidelong glances at each other, both of them flinching and turning away quickly each and every time the other one caught them at it. 

To busy himself, Eddie took to flicking through the radio stations, trying to find anything decent to distract him. He didn’t bother hiding his disgruntled noises every time yet another pop hit started blaring from the speakers.

“Come on, dude, quit it,” Steve finally snapped, slapping Eddie’s hand away from the dial, “You’re gonna give me a headache. Besides, you’re the one who always insists it's the driver who has total control over the music.” 

That, at least, felt normal, except–the hand that had connected with Eddie’s own was wearing a ring. His ring. And the feeling of smooth metal grazing over his skin was just foreign enough it felt like a shock, the surprise reminding Eddie yet again of the bizarreness of their situation and causing him to jerk. 

Steve’s eyes snapped down to his hand, grimacing as he seemed to register what had tripped Eddie up. He flexed his fingers–Eddie’s fingers–once before yanking his hand back.

It was like an invisible force field had fallen down between them, dividing them each to their respective sides of the car. Eddie felt his chest clench at the thought, and he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Look, I get it, man, it’s fucking–completely and utterly bizarre, right?” The words burst from Eddie’s mouth in a rush, incapable of being contained a second longer. “But, I don’t see why we can’t–talk about it? I mean, it’s happening to both of us, so…who better, right?”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, body collapsing back against the driver’s seat, like all he’d needed was Eddie’s go ahead for the tension to drain out of him. 

“Oh my God! Eds, it’s so weird!” he exclaimed in agreement.

Eddie smiled, that same relief running through him, too, like they were sharing it. 

“It’s goddamn crazy! And you and me? We have seen our share of crazy shit, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well, me more than you, rookie,” Steve teased, the small smile he sent Eddie just enough to make Eddie’s dimples appear. 

And even though it was his own eyes looking fond, crinkling at the corners in amusement, Eddie still felt warmth settle in his chest, being on the receiving end of Steve’s particular brand of gentle prodding. 

Still–he couldn’t let Steve’s words go unchallenged. Flustered, he blurted in protest, “Nope! Absolutely no sports talk in my body, Harrington. Fucking blasphemy, is what it is. That’s rule number one.” 

Eddie gave an exaggerated, full body shudder. 

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, dude? How the hell is rookie sports talk?”

“The fact you even have to ask that proves just how much of a jock you are, man.” 

Steve’s face slowly broke into a grin, big and bright and mischievous, and, god, Eddie really hated being on the receiving end of his own ‘about to start shit’ face. It was a wonder he ever got away with anything at all, really, since his smile was apparently the world’s biggest giveaway. 

He jabbed a finger at Steve. “Don’t you dare do it, dude. I’ll walk this handsome ass body of yours straight off a cliff, I’m not even joking.”

Dropping into a stern coaching voice worthy of the height of his high school glory days, Steve called out, “Hey hey hey! You call those free throws? Work on your stance and tighten up that form! Let’s see a little hustle here, I want to see nothing less than a 110% out of all of you!”

Eddie’s face twisted in horror, and he covered his ears with both hands as he shouted, “Lalalala!” 

Steve let out a loud, full-bodied laugh, not as wild as Eddie’s usually were but just as free. “I’m just getting started, Munson. I could do this all day.”

Eddie shot him a betrayed scowl. “I can’t fucking believe you, Steven. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, you know, and I–”

Steve shook his head, still chuckling.

“Man, did anyone ever tell you you care way too much about what other people think of you? Especially for someone who’s supposed to be ‘breaking the social order,’ or whatever.” 

Eddie hated that–Steve making those stupid little air quotes with one hand, parroting the exact same speech he’d heard from Dustin and Eddie himself a thousand times over right back at him. 

“I hate you.”

“You definitely don’t, dude. Which is already bad for your precious reputation, by the way.” 

“Oh, well, uh. You’re totally worth that, I guess,” Eddie admitted, before letting out a long sigh. “Even if you are gonna make everybody we know think I’ve gone to the dark side.”

“Trust me, man, you’ll live,” Steve reassured him, giving him a conciliatory pat on the thigh. 

The gesture was enough, though, to make Steve notice that Eddie had pulled his legs up into the seat out of habit, sitting–as he tended to do–at what was basically a crouch while tapping out an uneven rhythm against one knee. 

“Dude, put your feet down,” he complained, giving Eddie’s leg a light, ineffectual shove, “you’re gonna get dirt all over the upholstery. I swear to God, you’re as bad as Dustin sometimes.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s lips quirked up into a wide, mischievous grin, a thought occurring to him. Revenge was a sweet, sweet flavor. 

“Technically, this is my car.” Leaning over the console into Steve’s space, Eddie tapped himself once on the nose. “Check out this mug, man. Matches the name on the car title to a T. You need me to show you some ID?”

He made a production out of reaching for the wallet he had tucked away in the back pocket of Steve’s jeans. 

“Whatever, Eds. Don’t be annoying,” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Aww, Harrington, I was born annoying.”

The light that suddenly shone in Steve’s eyes practically spelled trouble. “Wait, so. If the Beemer’s yours…that means the guitar’s mine now, right?”

“Oh, absolutely not, Harrington! Don’t bring my sweetheart into this.”

Steve shrugged, infuriatingly casual. “Hey, you’re the one that started it, dude. Fair’s fair.” 

But the banter had done the trick and broken the ice. Even if it was about the morning’s weirdness, it got them all that much closer to some sense of normalcy. 

The rest of the ride to Dustin’s passed in easy chatter.

—

That peace was short-lived, however, once they pulled up in front of the Hendersons’ place.

The car had barely stopped rolling before Dustin was bounding out of the front door to meet them. When Eddie gave him a wave from the passenger seat, he openly gawped. 

“You let Eddie drive your car?!” The words, spluttered in disbelief, were the first thing out of Dustin’s mouth when he climbed into the backseat. 

“Just letting Eds take her for a test drive. Everybody deserves a shot behind the wheel of a ride this sweet at least once. Isn’t that right?” Eddie waggled his eyebrows at Steve, Cheshire smile expectant. 

Hanging his head, Steve only sighed–not nearly as long or loud as Eddie suspected he would have liked to–and turned off the engine. Clearly, he was resigned to his fate of trading places with Eddie and letting him drive his car yet again. 

…There’d been a lot of that going around this morning.

In the rear view mirror, they could both see Dustin open his mouth to speak. 

“Not you, big guy,” Steve jabbed a finger in his direction. 

He was lucky, really, that they made giving Dustin a hard time such a shared pastime. That meant they could easily pass off “Eddie’s” sudden defensiveness over Steve’s car as just his usual ribbing, the pair of them keeping up a united front as always. 

“That is so unfair!” Dustin whined as they both stepped out of the car. “I’ll have you know, I’m a very responsible driver. Or, at least…I would be, if you’d just give me a chance!”

His pleas went ignored. 

When their paths crossed in front of the hood to switch sides, Steve tossed the keys to Eddie with one quick, smooth flick of his wrist. Eddie jerked forward clumsily to catch them, warm metal hitting his palm…before he subsequently fumbled them to the ground. Squatting down, Eddie snatched the key ring up from the grass and jingled the set with a sheepish grin. The gesture made Steve simply shake his head in what Eddie was going to tell himself was fond exasperation. 

Dustin, on the other hand, was at the ready with his own snarky commentary as they clambered back inside. 

“Okay, seriously, what was that, Steve? Miss your Wheaties this morning?” 

“Guess I’m out of practice, since my glory days are over. Old age will do that to you,” Eddie drawled, ignoring the withering look Steve shot him. 

“Hey, hey. Need I remind you, I’m older than you,” Steve grumbled snarkily, arms crossed over his chest.

“That is true. Only you must bear the burden of being a third year senior,” Eddie sing-songed, before quietly mumbling, “for now, at least.”

A line appeared between Eddie’s own eyebrows, the patent Steve Harrington expression of concern. But before he had a chance to say anything, Dustin stuck his head between them, like a particularly curly-haired mole popping up out of his burrow. 

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he chirped, sounding excited as his face swiveled to look at Steve. 

“Well, you know, Steve said he could use an extra set of eyes to look after you little hellions, so…here I am.”

The flourishing hand Steve tacked on to gesture at himself was a nice touch…even if there was an obvious beat in there where he was clearly remembering to do it. 

Then, he pressed a palm to Dustin’s chest, gently pushing him into the backseat. “And sit back, dude. What do you wanna do, fly out of the front windshield if we crash?”

“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence in my driving skills, man.” Eddie thought he had Steve’s dry exasperation down pat, if he did say so himself.

…It was just poor timing that had him taking a corner only a tiny bit too sharply, tires squealing for what was probably no more than a single second as he just missed brushing up against the curb. 

In answer to Steve’s pointed glare, he could only smile contritely and mouth, Shit. Sorry.

Besides, despite the impatient energy that still seemed to thrum through him, Dustin had done as Steve instructed and sat back. So, their passenger on board remained safe and sound.

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you decided to join us. Especially because…I’ve got a question for you.”

It took a beat for Steve to realize he was the one being spoken to, the silence stretching just a hair too long before he jerked his neck quickly to look back at Dustin. “Huh? What?”

“I’ve been thinking about the layout of the dungeon at Castle Ravenloft–” Dustin started to chatter.

Oh, shit. He and Steve knew each other pretty well at this point, sure…well enough to put on this charade, at least, when they were wearing basically impenetrable disguises. But this–this was a true test of skill, and Eddie didn’t think they’d be forced to try and navigate it quite so soon.

So when he glanced over at Steve, he fully expected his own brown eyes to have gone wide, to find Steve wearing a fear-stricken expression as he looked back at him. Instead, Steve had a single eyebrow cocked, looking calm, cool, and unimpressed.

“Seriously? Like I’m actually gonna tell you anything,” Steve dismissed him easily. “Pfft, get real, Henderson.” 

“Come on,” Dustin protested, tone petulant and needling. He held up his fingers, practically pinched together. “Not even when I’m positive I’m this close to solving the last puzzle?”

Eddie couldn’t help but snort. The party wasn’t even remotely close. 

Oh, the arrogance of babes. 

“Honestly, uh…fat chance of that one, big guy.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Steve,” Dustin rolled his eyes, an exaggerated show of bratty teenage exasperation. “In case you forgot, you weren’t even there last night.”

That glib dismissal–Eddie couldn’t help but take it like a blow to the chest, though he did his best not to let it show.

It was just that…the words stung for a couple of reasons. 

First of all, he still couldn’t fight back a flicker of disappointment that he hadn’t managed to convince Steve to join them for even a single night of Hellfire. 

And on top of that, it stirred up memories of the many times Eddie had found himself the odd man out in school, excluded on the basis of his freak status before he learned to fully embrace it. Though the feeling was familiar, it wasn’t one he was accustomed to experiencing over something so quintessential to a part of his identity, who he was at his core. 

But…D&D really wasn’t Steve’s thing. So, Eddie shouldn’t have been all that surprised commenting had gotten that kind of response out of Dustin.

…Right?

“He’s right, you know,” Steve interjected, coming to his defense. “That dungeon is like…super fortified.” 

Coming on the heels of his own internal reasoning, Eddie couldn’t help but send Steve a startled, owlish look. 

What? Steve mouthed, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small, satisfied smile. I listen.

“But I–” Dustin gave it one last go.

“No ifs, no buts, no coconuts,” Steve playfully taunted, waving him off with a hand. “Give it up, dude.”

Eddie shook his head, settling comfortably into their usual rapport with a wry, “This kid.”

“I know.” Steve fell right into step alongside him, tone commiserating. 

Lower lip jutting out into what could only be described as a pout, Dustin muttered something that sounded suspiciously like butthead babysitters.

And even if Steve hadn’t already been his very own mirror image, there was no question in Eddie’s mind that, in that moment, the amused look Steve shot him perfectly matched his own.  

As Dustin stewed in silence, the two of them picked up where they’d left off before, back to bickering over the radio. Eddie reveled in the opportunity to chastise Steve when the opening chords of Mötley Crüe’s “Shout at the Devil” started to play and his friend automatically reached for the dial. 

“Ah, ah, ah, Munson,” Eddie clicked his tongue, waving an admonishing finger at Steve. “You know the rules. Hell, you were the one who reminded me of them just this morning, remember? Driver gets final say on the music.”

“Just wait til we’re back in the van, dude. It is so on,” Steve warned in a low voice, eyes gleaming as though Eddie had just issued a challenge. 

The sudden image of Steve, still in Eddie’s visage, rolling down main street as he shouted Madonna lyrics at the top of his lungs swam into Eddie’s head. 

Before he had a chance to discourage that horrifying future from coming to pass, however, Dustin spoke up again. 

"Steve?" 

"What is it now, Henderson?" Steve answered on autopilot, not even bothering to look up. 

Neither of them registered the mistake at first. 

But when Dustin didn’t charge on ahead, Eddie glanced into the rearview mirror to find him frowning. From the passenger seat, Steve caught Eddie's eye, his casually amused expression having morphed into panic. With nothing more than a jerk of his head and a pair of widened eyes, he sent Eddie the transparently obvious, silent message of Do something! 

"What can I do for you, Dustin?" Eddie asked quickly, cutting off their backseat passenger just as he opened his mouth. 

Instantly, he worried that he had sounded too much like himself, and not enough like Steve. 

"Okay, seriously, what’s going on?” Dustin demanded. “You guys are acting weird."

Christ, the kid was suspicious. Sure, Eddie couldn’t blame him, after everything, but–it had only been one slight mix-up. It was…plausible, at least, that Eddie could have just been answering for Steve.

…Probably. 

"No we're not," Eddie and Steve said in unison, which…okay, that wasn't their most convincing moment, Eddie could admit that. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell me,” Dustin said with exaggerated exasperation. “Especially when you know whatever it is, I’m going to figure it out eventually.” 

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that one, smarty pants.” Steve murmured wryly. Despite how they’d fumbled it, that spark of humor was back in his eyes when they caught Eddie’s, like they were sharing an inside joke. Then, he hurriedly added, “Because there’s nothing going on.”

“Fine, whatever,” Dustin harrumphed. “Go ahead, you can try and keep your secrets…for now. What I was trying to tell you, Steve, is that…it’s just going to be Lucas today. Oh, and Erica, too. No Max, though. She’s having a girls day with El.”

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement. “And what about mini-Wheeler?”

“Nance is bringing him,” Steve explained before Dustin had a chance.

“I already told you that, Steve,” Dustin snarked automatically. 

But, not even a beat later, he gasped, his head shooting up between the seats once more. When he turned to Eddie, there was obvious concern radiating from his face, his brow wrinkled and eyes squinting. Dustin gave him a quick slap on the shoulder. 

“Watch it, man, he’s trying to drive,” Steve complained, though the comment didn’t phase their young companion for even a second. 

“Shit, shit, shit, what the hell, Steve?! Wait–you’re not having memory issues and not telling me about them, are you?”

Eddie couldn’t fight back a bark of shocked laughter at such a serious overreaction from Dustin. First the paranoia, now this? Maybe they all really did need that trauma therapy Owens kept hinting about. “Dustin, man–Jesus Christ, what the hell are you talking about?” 

Steve groaned. “Come on, Henderson, just…chill out, alright?” 

Like before, their words went ignored, Dustin back to bulldozing ahead. 

“Because that would so not be cool!” he tapped a finger into his palm emphatically. “If this kind of thing is happening, I need to know about it. I’ve done all kinds of research on post-concussion syndrome, and that shit is really serious.” 

“Trust me, dude, he already knows that,” Steve said, sounding exasperated yet fond.

“Well, obviously, he’s not taking it very seriously, Eddie, if he’s just sitting here, ignoring potential symptoms!”  

“While your very touching concern has been noted–I’m totally fine. I promise. Shit, man, I just…forgot for a second. That shit happens. Thankfully, Eddie here was around to remind me, so. No need to call in a team of specialists to poke and prod at me just yet.”

To be honest, Eddie had had quite enough of that already, when Owens had demanded a full examination after he’d been pulled from the Upside Down. Even if it wasn’t quite the same circumstances, he wasn’t about to let Steve–or even just his body, for that matter–be put through the same thing, not when it could be avoided. 

Which was yet another reason to avoid having this whole thing come out into the open, especially when it might just right itself tomorrow without any extra intervention. Dodging the possibility of the pair of them becoming the former lab’s next science experiment was a top priority, as far as Eddie was concerned. He might not be totally sure what was going on, but it seemed like the kind of thing Owens and his team would have a field day with. 

“I reminded you, too,” Dustin grumbled.

“I know you did, buddy. Thanks for that.” 

Reaching out, Eddie gave Dustin a noogie through his hat–and Steve’s hand wasn’t far behind, replacing Eddie’s the instant he pulled back and doing the exact same.

With that crisis thankfully averted–for now–it wasn’t long before they made their way to the Sinclairs. 

No sooner had Eddie turned into the driveway before brother and sister were out the door in a flash, piling into the backseat while Dustin scooted over to give Erica the spot in the middle. 

“Hey, Steve!” Lucas greeted brightly. When his eyes caught on Steve sitting in the passenger seat, he blinked in surprise before adding, “Oh, hi, Eddie, man! I didn’t know you were coming along, too.”

“Why are you surprised?” Erica asked dryly, shooting him an unimpressed look. “They go everywhere together, like some kind of old, outdated comedy act. When was the last time you saw one of them without the other?”

There was one silver lining to the statement, Eddie guess. At least this way Steve wasn’t being forced to explain his presence yet again. Still, he felt his cheeks heat slightly and hoped Steve didn’t catch what Eddie knew from experience was a pretty, rosy blush spreading all over his face. 

Because…shit, was he really that obvious? 

“Last night at D&D,” Lucas shot back succinctly, always happy to get one over on his sister. 

“That’s only because Steve doesn’t want to hang out with you dorks in full nerd mode.”

“Erica!” Lucas’s exasperation was transparent. “You were literally there, nerding out just like the rest of it!”

Erica simply sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Eddie couldn’t help but marvel at how much she and Dustin acted just like little mini-Steves sometimes. 

“I said what I said.”

Their brother-sister back-and-forth had distracted the pair enough they hadn’t actually settled down and buckled up, not even as Eddie started to pull away from the curb. 

"Seat belt," Steve chided. 

Old habits died hard, clearly.

Erica snorted. "That's rich. We've all seen the way you drive, Eddie. Bargain bin Evel Knievel over here."

Eddie clapped a hand against Steve’s borrowed chest, crooked smile teasing as he turned to him. 

“Christ, went straight for the heart with that one, didn’t she, Munson? Erica Sinclair, fucking brutal as always.”

“Just the facts!”

"Pretty sure the last time Eddie took us to the arcade, he was like…crouched in the driver's seat the entire time," Lucas agreed, the Sinclair siblings for once on the same page. "I don't even get how his foot touched the pedal."

Steve shot Eddie a loaded, sarcastic look, back at it with the silent communication. Eddie knew he wasn’t quite as good at deciphering the meaning as Robin was, but he still thought he could read, See? Do you see what a bad influence your bullshit is on our kids? pretty clearly between the lines.

"You’re absolutely, 100% right, Erica. I should be way more careful when I’m driving,” Steve agreed pointedly. Then, he jabbed a warning finger into the backseat. “Just like you guys need to buckle up. Harrington's car, Harrington's rules, alright?”

"Uh, that's not what you said last week, when you changed the tape deck like six different times," Dustin said, voice full of patent 'well, actually' disbelief.

"Oh, well…not Eddie's fault I think bubblegum pop is the height of musical innovation," Eddie quipped, shooting Steve a wink and a shit-eating grin. There really was an upside to all of this, it turned out, because Eddie was having way too much fun with it. 

At least, he was until Steve leaned over and nudged him hard in the side, the jab making Eddie let out a punctured little oof. Shit, Steve hadn’t been kidding when he’d bitched about Eddie’s pointy ass elbows–those things were sharp as shit. Eddie was pretty sure, with Steve’s jock reflexes now wielding them, they should be categorized as certified weapons. For the sake of the safety of others, if nothing else. 

“Told you,” Steve hissed. The expression he shot Eddie suggested he was an idiot for ever doubting him.

“...Dude, what are they talking about?” Lucas asked. He was clearly attempting to speak in an undertone, but the sound carried to the front of the car nonetheless. 

Dustin shrugged, answering him back in the same sort of stage whisper. “I’m as confounded as you are. They’ve been acting weird since they picked me up this morning.”

“I still really don’t get how that’s all that damn surprising,” Erica countered, flat and unimpressed as she inspected her nails. “They always act weird.”

“Hey, what can I say?” Eddie interjected. Though he was having his fun, it wouldn’t hurt to try and steer this renegade boat back towards the shore. “Guess maybe Munson’s just starting to rub off on me.”

You’d like to rub off on something, the little voice in the back of Eddie’s head piped up, ever unhelpful. Just maybe not right now.

“When they got to my house, Eddie was driving,” Dustin informed the group, clearly offering a counterpoint.

“You let Eddie drive your car?” Lucas exclaimed, the disbelief in his voice evident.

“That’s exactly what I said!”

“Sure I did,” Eddie answered, smile as wide as the cat who’d caught the canary when he turned to Steve, “Eddie’s an excellent driver.”

…Okay, so maybe he wasn’t that great at resisting the temptation. 

“So not helping,” Steve muttered, in clear support of Eddie’s own oft-silenced inner voice of reason.

“…Maybe Steve lost a bet,” Lucas reasoned.

All three of them hummed in unison, considering this.

Steve huffed. “No one lost anything, alright? Just–mind your business. Didn’t anybody ever tell you guys curiosity killed the cat, or whatever? You’re all way too damn nosey for your own good.”

Eddie wondered if  Steve’s jock pride wouldn’t allow them to slander his good name like that, by suggesting he didn’t come out on top in a competition. 

But he backed him up nevertheless. “You heard the man. That’s quite enough out of the peanut gallery for now.”

“Besides, you need to stop worrying about whatever new bullshit those two are up to, and start worrying about how I’m about to kick all your asses at Dig Dug,” Erica said succinctly, the air of finality on the subject clear in her voice.

Eddie laughed. “Have I mentioned today that, out of all you snot-nosed little brats–you are totally my favorite, Erica Sinclair?”

As Erica grinned smugly and the other boys started to shout out a variety of protests, Steve inclined his head in approval. “Yeah, okay. See, now you’re starting to get the hang of it.”

—

When they pulled up to the arcade, the kids scurried out of the back, rushing inside with the same speed they might have if a Demogorgon was hot on their heels. Steve and Eddie moseyed up the sidewalk behind them at a much more slow, leisurely pace. 

Since they were out of eyeshot of the party, Eddie took the opportunity to hold the door open before Steve got to it, doing his customary flourishing bow to indicate he should go ahead of him. 

“After you, oh noble King of the Freaks,” he teased, eyes twinkling as he winked at Steve.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

But though Steve’s tone might have been deadpan, that did nothing to hide the amused smile quirking up one corner of his mouth, Eddie’s dimple giving him away instantly. It might have been a little weird to see from the outside, but those things were honestly starting to come in handy. 

Once they were inside, it didn’t take long to spot the pipsqueaks all congregated around Wheeler Jr., Nancy standing not far away. 

Steve raised a hand in greeting before trotting over to her, Eddie only a few steps behind. 

“Hey, Nance!”

“Oh, Eddie. Hi!” Nancy blinked at Steve in obvious surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He shrugged helplessly. 

“Yeah, there’s, uh…kinda been a lot of that going around. But, you know…I’m a wild card like that, yeah?” The flash of his smile and the way he spread his arms aloft, like a magician revealing a trick, was clearly meant to be bombastic. But even with Steve’s perfect disguise, Eddie could see the hint of an effort behind it, privy as he was to the man behind the curtain. “Never really know where I’ll turn up next.”

Nancy’s brow furrowed, her smile a touch puzzled. Now, whether it was her usual bewilderment at Eddie's shenanigans or something more–that was kinda hard to say.

Eddie threw an arm around Steve’s shoulder, coming to his rescue either way. 

He tried to be a lot more conscious of himself than he had been in the car, this time. Eddie had been in high school theater, after all–before he dropped out, at least. Plus, he had a whole cache of NPCs on rotation that he improvised weekly. Performing was what he did.

So, when he went to speak, Eddie did his best to adopt Steve’s patent blend of fondness and exasperation for the kids. 

“You know what a pain in the ass those little shits can be. So, I just thought–might as well call in the cavalry, get the most sought after babysitter in town…after yours truly, of course.” Eddie patted a hand against Steve’s chest. “Don’t worry, man. With enough time and my specialized training, you might just reach the same great, babysitting extraordinaire heights as me.”

Okay, so maybe there was a little too much theatrical flare on that last part–but every actor liked to put his own signature spin on things, right?

Besides, Eddie could feel it, the way Steve relaxed against him, before he huffed out a laugh. “Can’t wait, dude. Tell me when and where for the first official meeting of the Babysitters Club, and I’ll be there.”

“Well, hopefully it’s not too soon,” Nancy interjected, playing along, seeming amused by their antics. “Since I’ll be seeing you at the library tonight. Right, Eddie?”

Steve flashed her a sweet but confused smile. Internally, Eddie couldn’t help but marvel at the way he still managed to make that look cute, even while wearing his face. “Wait, wait, sorry…what about tonight?”

“It’s Sunday,” Nancy said pointedly.

“Yeah…” Steve dragged out the syllable, darting a searching look at Eddie, “and?”

Realization hit Eddie, right between the eyes. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s right!” he slapped both his hands against his forehead, pressing Steve’s hair flat. “We–shit, I-I mean, you and Nancy have your weekly study session tonight. Right?”

“You forgot?” Though the question was clearly directed at Steve, Nancy’s eyes never strayed from Eddie, studying him carefully.

“Yeah, I guess my brain’s just been a little, uh…” Steve sucked on his lips, expression self-deprecating as he spun a finger next to his temple, “scrambled today.”

Understatement of the century there, Harrington, Eddie thought, and had to literally bite down on his lips to keep from saying it out loud.

…And he tried not to get too caught up on it, the knowledge that that was actually Steve’s plump bottom lip his teeth were digging into.

“Is memory loss contagious?!” Dustin called out from several yards away. 

Steve sure had these kids pegged–nosey didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Okay, what is he talking about?” Nancy asked. Thankfully, she looked far more amused than concerned, if the losing battle the corners of her mouth were fighting was anything to go by.

“Steve forgot one thing, one thing. And then I forgot another. Apparently,” Steve pitched his voice louder, making damn well sure that the munchkins could hear him, “Henderson thinks that’s cause to alert the national guard, or some shit.” 

One hand settled in its new perch on Eddie’s hip, he shrugged and then threw his free arm out towards Dustin, Harrington code for, What can you do? 

Nancy shook her head, nose crinkled, mirth having won the day. “Well…sounds like it’s a good thing we ran into each other, since it gave me a chance to remind you. I guess I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“I’ll be there,” Steve agreed, sending her off with a finger gun. 

Once she was out of sight, disappearing through the door with a final bye, guys and an admonishment to Mike to behave, Steve’s shoulders slumped, letting out a long groan. 

“Oh my God, just when I thought having to study was finally behind me.” He dragged both hands down Eddie’s face, honestly looking a little nauseous at the prospect.

“Sorry, dude,” Eddie said in an apologetic undertone, casting around to make sure the others were too caught up to listen in again. “I, uh…totally forgot about the significance of the day, what with everything else going on.” 

Steve instantly softened. “No, man, you don’t–look, it’s–whatever, it’s not that big a deal. I’ll get through it.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you’ve been helping me out with those flashcards, huh? Gonna come in handy after all.” 

Because as much as Steve was bemoaning the prospect of having to prep for tests now, he had been more than willing to give Eddie a hand getting through his studies on more than one occasion. And, sure, the pressure wasn’t quite the same, when he wasn’t the one who was expected to perform. 

Still, it warmed Eddie a little, knowing that Steve had been willing to do it even though he was clearly far from enthused about anything remotely scholastic. 

“Looks like it. But, I mean, that’s kinda my point. If I’m there in your place, than how are you supposed to–”

In a flash, Steve clamped his mouth shut tight. The culprits for his sudden hesitation became apparent pretty much immediately, when Eddie saw that both Henderson and Little Wheeler were headed their way. 

Long legs outpacing Dustin’s, Mike made it over to them first–and Steve wasn’t quite able to hide the shock that came over his face, when the younger Wheeler wrapped a hand around his wrist and started tugging him along. 

On instinct, Eddie reached up to try and hide his bemused grin behind his hair, grappling for a second when he realized his mistake. 

Steve really couldn’t be faulted for the reaction. Even though Eddie knew full well that he would willingly die for any of those kids, and that Mike held way more admiration for his sister’s-ex-turned-party-babysitter than he would ever let in front of Steve, their entire dynamic was basically built upon an artifice of begrudging tolerance.

“Come on, Eddie. Join our party for round one of Gauntlet. We could really use you to help us get past the first level.”

Crossing his arms across his chest smugly, Dustin fell into step beside them. “Plus, maybe now I’ll almost have some real competition.” 

Arrogant little brat, Eddie thought fondly. 

“Oh, Henderson, you are so on. Better watch your ass, man. You can kiss that high score goodbye,” he ribbed good-naturedly. 

The whole thing was their typical sort of shit talk…which only made Dustin’s answering scoff of disbelief come as even more of a shock. 

“I know you’re joking. Right, Steve? What would you even know about it?”

He’d gotten a taste of it this morning, sure, but Eddie was so flabbergasted by the harshness of Dustin’s condescending tone–the superiority of it all–that, for once, he was struck speechless. Luckily, Steve was at the ready, prepared to pick up his slack. 

“Whatever, dude. Don’t be a little shithead just because Steve kicked your ass last week at Pac-Man.”

Mike snorted just as Dustin spluttered in protest. “Sure, yeah. But Pac-Man doesn’t exactly count as…a real arcade game, now does it?”

Eddie felt like he’d been doused in a bucket of cold water. Dustin’s smugness had taken the final veer straight into asshole territory without so much as a pit stop.

“Pfft. What’s that even supposed to mean?” Steve demanded.

And even though he wasn’t letting Dustin get away with it unchallenged, Steve still seemed way too nonchalant about his dismissive, imperious tone for Eddie’s liking. Almost like…he was used to it.

“Yeah, I’d sure as hell like to hear his explanation for that one myself,” Eddie agreed, crossing his arms over his chest now and wielding Steve’s disapproving babysitter stance for all it was worth.

Stopping in his tracks, Dustin’s head swiveled back and forth between them, mouth agape as he took in their wall of solidarity.

“Eddie–come on, back me up here. I thought you of all people would get what I meant. Right?”

Eddie did was the thing. He got exactly what Dustin meant. That didn’t make him right, though, or anything less than a complete and total shithead–just like Steve had said–for thinking it. 

And sure, in the past, maybe Eddie had waxed poetic about the wonder of a fantasy arcade game that established intricate world-building and lore. Like with D&D, there was something to be said for immersion, pulling the player into not just gameplay but a story. And it was fun to argue over things, make a case for which game or character or book was your favorite. But that didn’t mean there had to be some kind of hierarchical system created out of it. He thought–he’d hoped–he’d done enough to make that clear. 

…Dustin, though, might be living proof that he hadn’t.

Steve shrugged, casual. “I seriously don’t, dude.”

“Dustin’s right, it doesn’t count,” Mike agreed flatly, “now, can you guys just hurry up so we can actually start playing?”

“What the hell is taking you losers so long?” Erica’s voice suddenly demanded. 

She stood a few feet away, Lucas right behind her, looking beyond fed up. Clearly, the Sinclairs had gotten sick of waiting and wandered over to see what all the ruckus was about.

“We’re just debating the merits of playing one of the ‘lesser’ games in the arcade here,” Eddie put air-quotes around the title, before adding, his tone mockingly conspiratorial, “Turns out, Pac-Man evidently isn’t good enough for these two.”

Erica scoffed. “Well, that’s just stupid.”

“Besides, what are you even talking about?” Lucas’s face screwed up in outrage. “Pac-Man’s cool!”

“Finally! Thank you, Sinclair!” Eddie threw his hands in the air. “Good to know that at least some of our charges see reason.”

“Like I said,” Steve shrugged nonchalantly, pinning Dustin with a cooly judgmental look that would have ended at least a dozen of his former classmates, “sore loser.”

Dustin wilted slightly, shoulders slumping. It seemed, like Steve’s peers, he wasn’t entirely immune to the Harrington dismissal, either–or, well. The Munson one, technically, right now. 

“Whatever,” he muttered, still stubborn as ever despite it, “no need for you guys to be such assholes about it.”

Was this kid serious?

“Uh,” Eddie held up a single finger in challenge, “I really don’t think we’re the ones that started that, big guy.”

“What’s next? You gonna say My Little Pony is just for little girls?” Erica asked, tone accusatory as she looked straight at Dustin.

Lucas clapped a commiserating hand on his shoulder with a quiet, “Best of luck to you.”

He didn’t look all that sorry, though–as well he shouldn’t, in Eddie’s opinion.

And Erica’s piercing gaze did manage to make him falter, slipping past his defensiveness. “That…that’s different.”

“Uh, different how?”

“This is so dumb, we’re getting totally off track.” Rolling his eyes, Mike turned to Steve. “Are you gonna come play with us, or not?”

“Nah, man,” Eddie waved a hand at him in dismissal, wrapping the other around Steve’s elbow. “Eds is gonna stick around over here, playing Pac-Man with me. You’ll hardly miss him. Too busy playing something serious, right?”

“Eddie?” Mike demanded, like there was no way his Dungeon Master would agree to this. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so, dude. Like he said–I’ve got more important shit to do.”

Mike and Dustin openly gaped–as if he and Steve hadn’t both been actively pushing back against their asinine bullshit since the moment it got started. It was like they just expected Eddie to turn on Steve at the last second, shout out a Just kidding! and laugh in his face, or something.

The possibility that they might didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“There’s four of us anyway,” Erica pointed out. “What were you planning to do, let him steal my spot? Like hell!”

“Stealing is a gross exaggeration.”

“It was just for the first level anyway,” Mike added mulishly.

Seeing that their babysitters weren’t budging, the group began trudging back towards Gauntlet, still arguing amongst themselves. 

That sort of morale didn’t bode well for their future quests. So, being the benevolent gamemaster that he was, Eddie decided to send them off with some parting wisdom.

After all…he couldn’t let them get in the last word.

“Oh, but! Before you go. If I may make one teensy, tiny suggestion. I mean, you can do what you want…but. If you were smart,” Eddie spread his hands wide, a gesture meant to draw attention, “you’d let Thrya lead the charge. Only makes sense, right? Her shield’s the strongest, after all, and her sword delivers two times the normal damage.”

Four heads swiveled as one to stare at him with varying levels of shock and suspicion, from Dustin’s gawp to Erica’s careful, narrow-eyed gaze. 

Her expression was the first to clear, however, undoubtedly pleased by Eddie’s suggestion that she should be at the head of the pack. “Damn straight!”

“We know that,” Mike huffed snippily, despite the fact that their earlier conversation made it clear they hadn’t been thinking of Thyra at all, “but how the hell would you?”

“Hey, I listen,” Eddie shrugged, shooting for Steve’s nonchalance. “Besides, Eddie never shuts up about the damn thing. I was bound to pick up something eventually.”

Steve jerked his head towards him, that patent Harrington look of concern back. But it was no more than a flash, there and gone almost as quickly as it’d come. 

“Well, I mean–that just makes sense, doesn’t it? Thyra goes first, and then, uh…” Steve snapped his fingers together, “Thor can flank her, yeah? Since he’s the best fighter one-on-one.”

Eddie could not turn to stare at Steve, owlish and open-mouthed, without raising more suspicions than he already had–but, Christ, did he want to.

The boys were already nodding, taking on board this latter piece of advice with ease, while Erica tapped her foot impatiently in the background. 

“Now, shoo. Off to your battle stations, the grown ups will be over here playing a real game.” Tightening his grip around Steve’s bicep, Eddie practically dragged him away.

Once they were near the Pac-Man machine, at a safe distance away from the party, Eddie finally spun on Steve, what he was sure could only be described as pure glee animating his face.

“Harrington, you dirty dog!” he slapped his arm. “What the hell was that, good sir?”

His surprise clearly delighted Steve, if the smirk turning up his lips was anything to go on. 

“What? I told you, I actually do listen to you, you know. It’s just that, sometimes, some of it goes,” Making a whooshing sound, Steve swept a hand just above Eddie's unruly mane, “Right over my head. A couple things actually manage to stick, though. I mean, like how I know you always play that wizard dude, Merlin, yeah? With all the cool spells and shit. Which makes sense, since he’s like…the most magical one in the game.” 

“You saying you think I’m magical, Harrington,” Eddie teased.

Steve shrugged. “Well, I mean…what else would you call it? Coming up with all those worlds and characters and stories like you do for your campaigns? Sounds a lot like magic to me, dude.”

There was such plain certainty in his tone, like what he was saying just made sense. Eddie felt his cheeks go warm instantly at the praise–and while he’d certainly admired that sweep of pink on Steve’s face before, was he always this easy to blush? He had a hard enough time not giving himself away as it was, without having to worry about that little telltale sign of exactly what he was feeling. 

Steve nudged his shoulder into Eddie’s, a gentle bump. “Just because it’s not my thing doesn’t mean I can’t tell how good you are at it, Eds.”

Tragically, Eddie couldn’t even fully enjoy the sweetness of the moment. Not when the mere thought of just how much certain people seemed to think Steve not sharing those interests meant they could talk down to him automatically darkened his mood. 

“Well, uh–just because it’s not your sorta thing also sure as shit doesn’t mean those little chuckleheads should talk to you like that. Jesus Christ. Henderson, man–I knew he had a mouth on him, but he kept acting like you were…”

“What, like I’m an idiot? Yeah,” Steve sighed, trying to rub a hand over the back of his neck and still clearly surprised by the tangle of hair that prevented him, “I know. Dustin’s a little shit sometimes, but…I guess I can be kinda stupid, when it comes to certain things.”

Eddie felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“No, Stevie, you’re not. Not at all, man,” he protested immediately, tone insistent.

“Yeah, no, I know, I know,” Steve agreed, harried. “It’s just…I mean, I totally don’t know jackshit about your nerdy stuff.” 

“So? Me, I know fuckall about sports,” Eddie jabbed both thumbs towards his chest, emphatic. “You think that makes me stupid?”

“A little,” Steve answered, smirk teasing. 

Letting out a bark of a cackle, Eddie shoved him in the side. “Harrington, man, shut the fuck up.”

“You know what the kids are like. They can be total assholes, when they wanna be, but you just…gotta ignore them, mostly,” Steve tsked, waving a hand through the air in the way one might bat away a particularly annoying swarm of insects. “That’s what I usually do. That, or, you know, give them a little taste of their own medicine, when they really deserve it.”

“Oh, they’re plenty deserving. It’s fucking…mind-bogglingly ungrateful, is what it is. They’ve got no right to treat you like that,” Eddie stewed, his rage from earlier boiling back up anew. “And I hope that little stunt was worth it to them, cuz I’m gonna have Henderson and Wheeler rolling at a disadvantage for the rest of the year.”

Steve turned his face away for a moment. It was that sudden shyness that he sometimes seemed to get around Eddie–the kind he never saw from Steve back in high school–like he couldn’t quite look at him.

“Thanks, man,” he said quietly, patting a hand briefly, gently in the small of Eddie’s back in a show of gratitude. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

Especially since Eddie was worried he might have in some way contributed to the problem, the guilt of that possibility gnawing at him. 

Letting out a quick sigh, Steve chewed at his bottom lip, clearly still thinking. “With Dustin–I mean, he’s like my little brother. We give each other shit all the time. And that’s fine. I get it, it’s our thing. But, it–it was weird, you know? He was so excited to have me–to have you here. It felt…I don’t know, kinda like it used to? When he still looked up to me.”

Eddie sucked in a breath, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “Christ, man, I wasn’t kidding when I said he never shuts up about you. He still looks up to you, no question.”

“Sure, but,” Steve shrugged, his small, brittle smile devastating, “guess it’d be kinda nice to have him do it to my face, once in a while.”

In the hospital, during the aftermath of everything, Steve had confessed that he’d been jealous of Eddie too. 

At the time, Eddie couldn’t imagine why, but–he got it, now. It had to have felt like Eddie was replacing him, from the outside looking in. Which was fucking…ludicrous, when Eddie knew deep down Dustin hero-worshiped Steve every chance he got. That all the kids did. The way they used to go on and on about the former King of Hawkins High during Hellfire sessions had annoyed him to no end, before.

…But, it turned out that Steve wasn’t actually on the receiving end of those lavish praises, apparently. It was just always out of earshot of the man himself. 

“Fuck it,” Eddie smacked a hand against the arcade machine, resolved. “When we’ve got ourselves all sorted out again, I’m gonna need to have a serious talk with that kid. Wheeler, too.” 

“Eddie…” Steve drew out his name, his voice wavering, uncharacteristically hesitant, “you seriously don’t have to do that, dude.”

He shook his head, expression steely. “Oh, I’m going to, Stevie. It’s non-negotiable, at this point. After all, I mean–they besmirched Pac-Man’s name. What other choice do I really have?”

That was enough to get Steve to smile–a real one, this time, without even a tinge of bitterness. “Aww, yeah. I love that hungry little guy.”

And at his genuine enthusiasm, Eddie couldn’t help but grin back, wide and toothy.

“Me too, man. Me fucking too.” 

“Speaking of–” Steve tilted his head towards the game as he leaned up against it, arms crossing over his chest and his smirk cocky, “you ready to get your ass kicked by me?”

Eddie’s eyes glittered. “Oh, Stevie, buddy, you are so on.”

—

As the machine let out its sad little game over noise, Eddie clenched a fist against his mouth and swore, the neon high scores that popped up on screen making it clear he still hadn’t come anywhere close to beating out Steve.

With an exaggerated hiss and a wince, Steve slapped a hand against his shoulder, condescendingly jocular. “Yeah, better luck next time, dude. Not your fault you’re facing off against the Pac-Man champion.”

Eddie was in the process of revving up to smack talk him right back when Lucas bounded over to them, the rest of the kids shockingly not in tow. As he squinted over Eddie’s shoulders at the scoreboard, Lucas’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Oh, hey, you’re beating Steve!” he gave Steve a congratulatory pat on the back. “I thought that was pretty much impossible.”

And, to the unknowing eye, it certainly looked that way. Despite their own competitive natures, he and Steve had both agreed that switching names would be for the best, lest they at some point attract an audience of onlookers amongst the party–or anybody else, for that matter.

So SMOKINSTEVE was currently taking up the number two spot, a name Eddie had cheekily chosen after vetoing Steve’s own suggestion of just plain Steve as far too boring. EDTHEBOLD sat right above it. When Eddie had explained that he’d stuck with his title of ‘Ed the Banished’ for the past month or so, Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment–and then entered in the alternate he’d chosen without so much as a single comment. 

Looking at it made Eddie’s heart clench a tiny bit. 

“Sure, okay. I’m in the lead…for now,” Steve conceded. “But give it a couple days, Sinclair. I’ve got a feeling Harrington’s set to make a total comeback. I mean–he’s got game, you know?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that. You’re the nerd, after all, man,” Eddie flashed Steve a too wide grin while he bopped him lightly on the end of the nose, reveling in the rare opportunity to call him such. “This is supposed to be your area of expertise.” 

Turning to Eddie, Lucas smiled, bright and hopeful. “Speaking of game–hoops after this, right? We’re still on? I’ve been working on my three pointers, but I could still use some tips from the former co-captain.” 

And if Steve using his voice to call out sports terms had stunned him, Eddie honestly felt a little like his brain was flatlining now that he was clearly expected to respond back in jock speak. 

“Uh…”

Luckily–or maybe it was the ultimate sign of Eddie’s complete lack of luck, it was kind of hard to say–Steve leaned across him and cut in. 

“Of course, dude, he wouldn’t miss it. Steve’s been telling me all about how much better you’ve gotten, even just since you first started out practicing together a few months back.” 

“Really?” Lucas’s face lit up, looking at Eddie. "You think so?"

“Totally, man,” Steve answered for him. “He’s, like, super proud of you.” 

And he really did look chuffed–every inch the bragging babysitter that he was, even if Lucas was none the wiser. 

Come to think of it, Steve definitely had mentioned something about that in the past few weeks. Anything athletic tended to go straight over Eddie’s head–but, for all his protesting, he’d been making an actual real effort to pay closer attention, even when he understood less than half of what Steve had to say. 

Because Steve was into it, and he looked so cute anytime he started excitedly rambling on about balls in baskets. Not to mention his general…everything kind of put a real kibosh on what the Munson Doctrine had to say about jocks in general. So Eddie’s code was currently under revision, much like his entire worldview had been ever since Spring Break. As much as he might still put on a show–especially when it came to protesting Steve hijacking his own voice for nonsensical sports jargon–he really was trying to learn, do better. 

Which meant that, when Steve elbowed him–not nearly as subtly as he thought–with a pointed, “Isn’t that right, Steve?” there was really only one answer. 

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. You know, it’s like I always say, you’re, uh, uh…you’re a natural, Sinclair.” 

Well…that was a good start followed by what he assumed was a crit fumble when it came to stealth, as he’d tried to come up with a word to describe any specific athletic skill and drawn a total blank.

…Maybe he hadn’t done too bad, though, based on Lucas’s answering beam. And that look on the teen’s face made his piss-poor attempt at bumbling through things all worth it. 

“Awesome!” Lucas bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. “Erica said she wanted to come too, but just to watch. I’m pretty sure she’s planning to heckle us from the stands.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Eddie commented, swallowing hard as he sent Steve an anxious look.

With him out on the court, she’d certainly have plenty of material to work with. 

“Guess that makes four of us, then,” Steve gave a quick nod, like he was checking off his mental headcount with all the attentiveness of a parent heading up a school field trip, “since I’m going, too.”

“...You are?” Lucas asked. Unlike the shitshow with Dustin and Mike earlier over the mere suggestion Steve might know a thing or two about arcade games, he didn’t sound condescending or disapproving–but he still blinked over at Steve in surprise. 

Which was…totally fair, Eddie wouldn't have believed it either. In fact, the only thing that could tempt him into an amateur basketball game on any normal day was the chance to subtly ogle Steve. 

“Sure I am,” Steve answered easily, “wouldn't wanna miss out on Harrington's stellar moves. Isn't that right, Stevie?”

He shot Eddie a wink, leaning into his space with an uncanny imitation of one of Eddie’s Cheshire wide smiles. 

They might have bungled it a few times thus far, but that–shit. That was actually a really good impression of him. 

…A really good, really flirtatious impression of him. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, did that mean Steve knew Eddie’d been pretty shamelessly flirting with him basically every chance he got since Spring Break? 

He let out a somewhat strained laugh, trying to cover for the sudden swirl of confusion inside him at the possibility. “Right. Absolutely, man. Can’t wait to uh…shoot those balls?” 

With a flick of his wrists, Eddie did his best imitation of the tosses he’d seen Steve make back in gym class. Even for pretend basketball, he was pretty damn sure his aim was totally off. 

As Lucas rushed off to deliver the news to Erica, Steve let out a sound that could only be described as a giggle–a genuine one. 

“Don’t sweat it, Munson. I promise I’ll show you the ropes.” 

Then, he gave Eddie a quick, firm slap on the ass–the exact same kind he had sometimes seen the jock guys giving each other at the end of a long practice.

No sooner had he felt the sting of it than two deep, red spots bloomed bright on his cheeks. 

…Eddie was so fucking doomed. 

Part 4

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[si1verghosts]

my beloved ghost and me | ch. 0

post-di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 1.8k

18+ | cw: major character death

read on ao3

a/n: hi! this is something i've been working on since april - i intended to wait until the story was complete to begin posting it but i impulsively decided to share this on ao3 last night sooo...

as things stand, i have about 40k written for this already, but most of the chapters are incomplete due to my inability to write sequentially. so updates will come, i just can't say for certain when... sorry!! i'll likely add an unnecessarily lengthy introduction at some point explaining the inspiration for this but for now all i will say is that this is a love story. and i hope you will join me on the journey through it :-)

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

please do not use my work to train any sort of Al chat bot and/or writing generator. thank you.

----------

The official theme of this poem is

The official theme of all my poems which is

You get in love and then you die!

- Hera Lindsay Bird, "Having Already Walked Out On Everyone I Ever Said I Loved." (x)

-----

May 19th, 2026

---

The sun is high and sparkling when Leon leaves in a whirlwind, collecting holsters and guns and papers and keys. The window is thrown open, the fresh cut grass floating in on a breeze - you will suffer for it later, but you love the way Leon wears the smell; his warmth softening the sharp edges of the scent.

The door is ajar, his car idling in the drive when he finally slows, lingers; hands at your waist and nose in your neck.

"Stop," you whine, palms against his chest; condensation building on your glass of orange juice on the counter. "I haven't showered."

"Don't care," he mutters into your skin; sniffing obnoxiously, disgustingly.

You squirm under his touch as he drags his nose up your throat, peppers kisses along your cheek, fingers pulling you closer and closer.

Jack grumbles at your feet - your gallant protector in his fluffy brown coat of armor. Leon detaches himself from you to crouch down and scratch behind his ears; levels his gaze, voice serious, "You take care of our girl, okay?"

It's the same song and dance every time Leon leaves. Like clockwork, Jack's tongue lolls out of his mouth - of course, always.

Satisfied, Leon stands to full height once again, tan skin radiant and highlighted hair shimmering under the brilliance of the forenoon rays. Blue eyes holding your gaze, he nods down to Jack, "This is my most trusted associate - you'll be safe with him."

You roll your eyes, tugging on his collar, "Shut up and kiss me, hotshot."

And he does, hands falling back to your hips as yours find their way to his neck, capturing the strands at his nape between your fingers. He wanders under your rumpled shirt, calloused skin contradictorily soft, soothing, gentle.

His minty coffee morning taste replaces the staleness of sleep still resting on your tongue, clearing the residual lethargy from your mind. You long to slam the door closed, lock the windows, pull him back to bed and keep him there - fuck the country, fuck the world; he was yours to have and to hold.

You retreat before you can act on your selfish thoughts, voice a whisper against his mouth, "Duty calls, Agent Kennedy."

He hums, eyes still closed; presses his lips against yours once, twice, three times more. He pulls back, hesitating - stay, stay, stay, you silently beg - but it only lasts a moment before he shakes his head, clears his throat, laces your fingers together.

He takes you with him over the threshold and out into the building heat of the late Virginia spring; as far as you're able to go. Jack darts out from behind you and into the yard, redirecting to run laps around Leon's car when he opens the driver's door; your husband chuckles at the Bernese before leaning in to kiss you again.

You've said the same goodbye a hundred and one times but it still aches, burns; worry swelling in your throat as you force yourself to smile when he steps back. "I'll leave the light on," you promise, as you always do.

"No need - it's just Raleigh," Leon allays while he slips behind the wheel, hand still in your own. "I should be home before dinner if Hunnigan is feeling generous and lets me file the report tomorrow."

"I'll give her a call," you grin, letting him pull you into his chest. "Let her know she's welcome to use excessive force to get you to complete your paperwork, if need be."

He throws himself back against the headrest with a groan, silky hair fluttering with the movement. "You two are so mean to me," he grumbles. "I never should've let you be friends."

You laugh, a single snort that gets his eyes glittering, "Hilarious."

Releasing your hand, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head towards him and capturing your mouth one last time. He sucks on your bottom lip in a way that assures his intent to seek retribution. You get lost in it for a moment, stomach clenching; dizzy with the desire to slip inside him, join him on his journeys into the darkness, tucked away safely next to his heart.

He separates the kiss when he notices you've nearly crawled inside the car with him; smirking at your glazed expression. Smug bastard.

The air moves, cooling the spit on your lip, sending a shiver through you. He swipes his thumb along your pout, immediately returning the warmth to the skin.

"Goodbye, sweetheart," he drawls, still managing to make you weak in the knees after all these years. "I love you."

"Bye," you retreat slowly, sorrowfully; swaying on the blacktop as you push his door shut. "I love you too - more than anything."

"More than anything," he repeats, holding his pinky out through the window. You knot your littlest fingers together for half a breath, stepping back as he reverses out of the drive.

Jack nudges your thigh as Leon drives away, off to save the world again - just another Tuesday.

-

You type away until the early evening - working, just barely. It was always difficult to do anything when Leon was away, especially write emails answering the same questions three times over. But you needed some way to distract yourself, to keep you from the news - Leon had made you swear not to watch it. "If there's something you need to know, you'll be told," he promised, smoothing down your hair, kissing your forehead.

A knock pulls you from your computer and your office, moving towards the foyer, Jack's nails clicking against the hardwood as he follows along. Feet planted in the same spot where Leon had kissed you goodbye a few hours ago, you pull open the door to find Ingrid.

Years ago, sometime between when hooking up turned into having dinner, Leon had sat you down, told you his job was unconventional. "It's very likely that one of these days I won't come home," he had said, blue eyes pinning you in place at his kitchen table. "I'm not telling you this to scare you; I just can't… You deserve to know. I understand if you want to leave; don't want to deal-"

You had laughed, cutting him short. It had been three months - maybe four - but you couldn't fathom the idea of walking away, of leaving him - at least not voluntarily.

Your chuckles had melted down into concern, confusion. "If you don't want to be with me Leon, just say that - I'll understand. You don't have to make up stories-"

It was his turn to interrupt you, but he had done it kinder, gentler; falling to a knee in front of you. "No. No, that's not… I can't explain, can't give details but I mean it. I want you," he had sighed, head falling forward, fringe following. "But tomorrow, next week, a year from now - I could be gone. I just need you to know that."

It was cryptic and disquieting, you should've pushed for clarification, should've gotten up and left - but he said I want you. Those three words had echoed around your skull and bounced around your heart. I want you I want you I want you.

Anyone who had ever met you wouldn't say sanity was something you possessed in spades - you leaned in, took his face between your hands and kissed him.

In the years since, you believed you had prepared yourself for the worst, for the inevitable. You had even had a few false alarms; training runs - the three weeks he had dropped off the face of the earth, unreachable in the European wilderness; the bullet through his femoral artery, resulting in near total blood loss; the tubes down his throat after a six-hour surgery to repair his punctured lung.

Leon had warned you and you had made your choice.

But Ingrid's presence on your doorstep throws you - if something happened, you should've been called. That's how these things work; your phone rings, providing you with what little information they can.

Instead, she steps over the threshold, "Have you watched the news?"

"No," you frown. "Leon doesn't… Why are you here?"

Ingrid falls forward, you embrace her on instinct, feel her choke on a sob; feel the blood freeze in your veins, stop cold. "I'm sorry."

You aren't stupid, you know what she means. You understand it, had internalized the expectation of it. Still, you don't comprehend her words. "Sorry?"

She steps back, holding your hands, someone's hands - you can't be sure they are yours, can't find them. "I'm," she shakes her head, "So sorry."

"For what?"

You don't recognize her as she frowns, almost whimpers - can't force out the words.

"I need you to say it," you urge.

She braces herself, closes her eyes, "Leon's dead."

"How?" You feel vile for torturing her, but you can't help it - you have to hear it.

She swallows, shudders. "A bomb - it wiped out the entire block. He was clear, but," she stops to heave. "He went back in, apparently."

"I," she stutters, straightens her spine. "I lost his signal. The last transmission I was able to hear, he said there were still civilians inside. So he must've went back in… He always… He always had to go back in.

"They're searching still but," she heaves again. You should really offer her a seat, a drink, a tissue - you're being a terrible host. "The building witnesses said he… He ran into - it's almost like it was vaporized; there's hardly even any rubble left. There's nothing to search."

"Okay," you nod. "Thank you - for letting me know."

You step back, make for the kitchen, "Can I get you anything?"

She looks shocked, understandably. She's had a rough day. "I… No, thank you."

"Alright - I'm going to put on some tea, you're welcome to stay."

She closes the distance between you, grabs your elbows, shakes you ever so slightly. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, there was a bomb; you guys think he's dead," you nod at her again, slower this time. "Leon has been blown up before - more times than I can count, but I'm sure you have the records. Give the search crews a few more hours, he's probably just having a nap under a steel beam or something. You know-"

"No," she interjects."I'm sorry - but no." She's crying now, you notice; tears cutting tracks through her foundation as she squeezes your elbows again. "I need you to understand; I'm telling you, he's dead."

"No," you laugh, trembling all over with the force of it. "No - he wouldn't… I'm telling you, he's ju-"

"Listen," she shakes you, words sharp, certain. "He's gone."

Tomorrow, next week, a year from now - I could be gone. I just need you to know that.

The room tilts as his words reverberate around your skull, "He's gone?"

"Yes," she sobs. You wonder if you're crying too. "He's gone."

You open your mouth to respond, but can't figure out how to form the words. You sink to your knees and scream.

[genericpuff]

welp, this kinda sucks

I'm currently at odds with the PC that I got a couple months ago, it's started freezing and soft-resetting randomly for seemingly no reason. It would usually be after hours of use that I could chalk up to the memory overloading, but now it's happening as soon as I boot up the frigging thing. And just to make it clear how much I've done on my own to diagnose the problem, our attempts to fix it have included the following:

Limiting startup applications

Running virus / malware scans

Swapping out display monitors

Updating the GPU drivers

Setting a lower overclock profile in the BIOS settings

Swapping out power cables and outlets to check for power surges

So far none of these things have worked and if anything, the issue has just gotten worse in the last two days. Like, it can barely make it to the startup screen sometimes, despite the memory and CPU usage being >20%, there is zero reason it would be the PC overclocking itself just from startup.

(and no, it doesn't even compel me, i'm just annoyed to shit LOL)

So I dropped it off with the guy who built it (he runs an electronics / pawn shop downtown that's very reputable and well-known so it's not like I don't trust him or anything, he's been building PC's for people in the area for years) and it's now in his care for the next day or two while he tries to isolate the problem. Right now the only thing I can imagine being the problem is the power supply or my display monitor, which is my old Huion Kamvas 22 Plus that still works as a monitor, just not a drawing tablet - but if something's still fucking around in the tablet, it could be causing problems through the PC, maybe.

When I dropped it off with the guy, he went and set it up in his office and came out and told me that so far it seemed to be running just fine, when he asked me if I was doing anything specific I told him it was crashing even after startup so I gave him permission to overclock the shit out of it, run 53879205893 browser tabs, run my games, software, anything he needed to do to push it to its limits and see if he could replicate the problem.

I am terrified if it has to do with the motherboard, because that will be an expensive replacement that will also potentially lead to losing files / installations / etc. depending on how big an issue it is. It could also potentially be Windows 11 having a hissy fit especially seeing as how it's freezing up on startup, but doesn't freeze on the BIOS screen when it loads up in safe-mode after hard resets, so something is clearly happening between the hard boot-up and the startup of Windows 11 itself.

Thankfully I do have Google Drive sync support and plenty of external HDD's that I can back my stuff up to, but with the freezing and restarting getting as bad as it's been, I haven't been able to back anything up, and I don't want to risk doing it manually if it'll just freeze and potentially corrupt my files in the process. So I told the guy to call me if he needed to mess with anything concerning the system storage so that, if he could at least keep it running stable in the shop, then I could swing by and get everything I needed synced up safely before he messes around with anything.

It could also very well have something to do with the power supply itself, the house that I occupy the main floor of isn't exactly built with electric optimization in mind, we've had fuses blow on us before just from running the hair dryer at the same time as the TV, so if it's something to do with the PC drawing too much power for the electrical system here to keep up with, either (hopefully) the guy will be able to instruct me on how to lower and manage that power intake through the PC's BIOS (I believe you can but I'm still a massive noob on custom builds and I don't want to go tinkering with it myself) or, idk, maybe I'll have to get my landlord to drop by again with his electrician and check out the fuses to make sure they're all operating properly. I'm not an electrician either, so fuck if I know at this point what could be going on. I feel like it can't be the house itself because everything else is running fine and it's just become a recent issue, but our city's power grid is also not exactly praised for being good at its job, especially not in the winter.

So yeah, I'm a little - well, a lot - stressed right now, but all I can really do at this point is wait. Fortunately, I have my iPad and also remembered that I still have my old PC, so I've hooked it up, at best if the problem repeats itself on this PC then I'll know it has to do with the display monitor, at worst I'll just be stuck working with my clunky old hardware for a couple days, which is annoying, but it'll get the job done. Fortunately I had the newest episode of Rekindled uploaded to the cloud in Clip Studio so I can still download it and work on it, which was my biggest worry when everything started to go belly-up (next to just, like, having a working PC).

Sooooo yeah. It's annoying, but I'm hoping for the best. Send good vibes y'all, I really could use it rn, between this and slow traffic at work and some other personal shit that's been going on, it's been a shitty few days (╥﹏╥)

And yeah, I'll keep y'all updated on if it affects this week's update, it really shouldn't honestly as most of the work left is doable from both my iPad and PC, but obviously at this point anything can happen so if anything has to be postponed or changed to accommodate the current situation, I'll update y'all as soon as I can! Thanks everyone, y'all are the best, wish me luck <3

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come. 

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods. 

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives. 

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance. 

And Ivar relished every moment. 

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated. 

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them. 

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives. 

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come. 

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act. 

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him. 

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come. 

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted. 

Fucking pathetic. 

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer. 

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it. 

"Wake him up." 

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man. 

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now. 

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement. 

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief. 

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?” 

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case. 

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue. 

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination. 

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane. 

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.” 

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white. 

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her. 

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain. 

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off. 

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover. 

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side. 

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–” 

Another smack reverberated in the air. 

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out. 

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse. 

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!” 

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill. 

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands. 

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha. 

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.  

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing. 

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.  

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise. 

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs. 

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of. 

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still. 

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin. 

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?” 

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now. 

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.” 

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic. 

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face. 

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed. 

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high. 

“You live!” 

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence. 

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?” 

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim. 

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them. 

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real. 

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm. 

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest. 

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side. 

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out. 

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name. 

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water. 

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket. 

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn. 

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?” 

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number. 

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief. 

Someone was calling him about Kari. 

As an emergency contact. 

From a hospital. 

Where she is a patient. 

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him. 

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him. 

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying. 

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her. 

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting. 

He had promised. 

And he failed. 

Again. 

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again. 

“Yes.” He croaked out. 

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call. 

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?  

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic. 

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed. 

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror. 

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.” 

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option. 

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes. 

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her. 

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass. 

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel. 

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort. 

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind. 

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on. 

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

[life-is-unreal]

Watching from afar {Twisted Wonderland x Reader}

(Also published on Wattpad and Quotev, maybe ao3?) (the plot is similar but not the same) (updates=???) (shit grammar)

Prologue 0.1 - Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

"I swear to god, if there's another essay due today." You hissed, tapping away on your computer.

"I can't believe he set three essays without even telling us in class. Like bitch- WHAT THE FUCK THERE'S TWO MORE?"

You threw a slipper across the room, resisting the urge to chuck the computer, "It's expensive, it's expensive... I can't afford shit right now." You muttered, your hand clawing on your scalp.

"Brrrrrrringgggggggg. Briiiiiiiiiiiiing."

The sound of your phone ringing sounded heavenly compared to your ten hour grind on finishing all your essays due tomorrow. 

"Hellllo?"

"Hey Y/N! You wanna go to the amusement park that just opened up near school? By the way, 'no' isn't acceptable. I'm at your house so head down bitch."

"Annnnd she hung up."

You sighed. At least you had a reason to tell your parents on why you failed, you could blame everything on your dearest friend Marie.

"Heeyyyyy Marie." You slipped into the uber, shoving your best friend away as she tried to tackle you into a hug.

"Girlie, you look like those ghosts. Of course, you look as beautiful as ever but still." Marie flicked your forehead.

"Girl. I legit had to do three fucking essays in a day and there's two that I haven't done yet."

"...Wait. I have the same classes as you rightttt?"

You snorted, your half dead expression going away as the smile vanished on Marie's face. What's that saying? Smiles don't disappear, they just move to someone else's face.

"WE HAVE FIVE FUCKING ESSAYS DUE TOMORROW? SCUSE MOI?"

You clamped your hand over her mouth, pushing her down, "Bitch, we're in a fucking uber."

"Keugh, keugh. I mean, I can cancel the ride and send you guys back?" The uber driver said awkwardly.

"Sorry man, it's fine. My parent's have like, no hope on my studies so I'll be fine." Marie muttered, her soul sucked away from her body.

"Um. We're here now?" The uber driver, keeping his eyes straight ahead tapped the window.

"Uh, yeah haha. Uh, Y/N get your ass off. Let's go." Marie laughed awkwardly, pinching you hardly.

"Bitch what the fuck." You whisper-yelled in her ear.

"Shush, this shit awkward as fuck, now pretend you have a stomach ache." Marie elbowed your stomach hardly.

"ASFTEGHWGEU WTF?" You screeched, almost flinging her hand off you when you clutched your stomach in pain.

"Sorry girly pop, take one for the team y'know. SORRY MATE, MY FRIEND HERE SEEMS TO HAVE SOME STOMACHE PROBLEMS! GOTTA DASH!" Marie took hold of your hoodie and almost yeeted you towards the direction of the entrance.

"Bitch you owe me a popsicle." You snarled when the two of you had gotten inside.

"Heeeeey, I bought your ticket! It was hella expensive you know!" She whined, using her puppy eyes.

"I- eugh. Let's go then." The thing about Marie was that although she could be a hella insensitive and bitchy person, she was probably one of the top five best looking people in the school and other than being a bit two-faced she was a person with great personality, that is when she isn't bitchy and overly clingy. 

You and Marie's friendship began when she moved in to your neighborhood and the moment they moved in, it was made very clear that Marie's family was absolutely loaded. The first time you met was in high school. You had moved in a few months prior so the two of you began chatting as the two of you were the only 'new faces'.

Marie's problems shined through quite quickly when the two became more and more popular. You had gotten popular through brains and pretty looks whilst Marie had gotten popular because of her down right stunning looks.

Halfway through the first school year together, Marie had became friends with everyone under the 'popular' tag. You being her one and only "bestie" had hear all her remarks on other people.

"OMG Y/N, you know Sarah? The blondie? Like she's literally sooo toxic to her friends and everyone. Like bitch called me 'bestie' like noooo. Her? To be delulu enough to think that she's my bestie? Fuck no! Why would I want some ugly, stuck up, two faced bitch being my bestie. Girly pop, stick with me more. I don't want people like her bothering me."

"Hey bestiiiieeee. Did you see what happened in the cafeteria today? That new boy. That nerd. No? Eughhhhh, why don't you know any of the latest gossip??? Anyways, he got his ass whooped by one of the upperclassmen because he was talking to ThEiR GiRl. Like how cringgge is that shit?"

You had compared Marie to Regina from Mean Girls before but you decided that it didn't fit Marie that well. Marie was just as popular, just as two faced. But there was one thing for sure, she wasn't a total bitch. 

"Y/N! You wanna hang out today??? Pleeeeeaseee, you know that you're my only bestieeee. Come onnn. Let's go shopping, and yeaaaah I know you're broke and all that but that's why you need a rich bestie right? There you have the all so wonderful and fantastic me!"

"Y/N! Guess what! You know those bitchy girls from Year 12? I called some of my ahem, friends. Don't worry, they won't pick on you any more! Ain't I just succcch a wonderful person. By the way! It's your birthday this week right? I'm bought you that limited edition bag from that store you were eyeing. Uhhh, don't mind the price. You don't need to know about that. Ehe!"

Marie was clingy for sure and she gets angry easily contrary to how she acts in front of the popular people. She never gets angry because of you but you could see when she starts to get annoyed. She always gets annoyed when you hang too close to other people which is probably one of her toxic traits but you were pretty much fine with that as you found that she was fine with most people as long as they don't start calling you "Bestie".

There was also, one thing that Marie entrusted to you, and only you. Her deepest, darkest secret.

"Hey! Y/N! You listening to me?" Marie frowned, flicking your forehead. "You're zoning out again!"

"My baddddd. What you saying again?" You rubbed your fore head. Yeah, Marie's strength was also quite good.

"You wanna go to that mirror thingamajiggy room?"

"The what? Never mind. Let's go." You blinked wearily. 

"Did you actually grind for ten hours for those essays? It's not- Eugh. You being your top student. Your the fav student, they won't fail you as long you give a good enough reason you know?" Marie ruffled your hair. 

Hmmmm. Marie grew a few centimeters again. You sighed, you and your unmoving height.

You let the taller girl drag you through the crowd until you've reached the Hall of Mirrors, or as Marie calls it, the "mirror thingamajiggy room".

"Y/N girly pop. Stay here for a second. I think I saw those ice cream trucks nearby, I'll get some scoops, don't wander off like you always do. I'm not finding you for two hours again like what happened last year." Marie tapped your forehead. "You listening? I- Why do I even bother?" She rubbed her temples. "Stay put!" she called out, jogging towards the ice cream truck as she was hidden by the flowing visitors.

"What did she say?" You muttered. You removed your blue tooth headphones.

"Whatever, she probably went to the toilet or something." You raised your eyes, glancing at the entrance. For some reason, there was a smaller tent that had no queues next to the gigantic crowd going to the Hall of Mirrors.

You glanced weirdly at the bustling crowd. "They all blind or smth?"

Looking down at the weight that was leaning on your leg you rolled your eyes, "Marie really left her bag for me to carry." You slung her tote on your shoulder before trudging towards the little tent that was pretty much hidden in the shadows.

"Cold nights be like." You grumbled in annoyance, "What the hell did she put in her bag for it to be this heavy man? Gold?"

Ah, my lovely Lord,

"Sound effects? Seriously man?" You raised your brows as you entered the tent.

The noble and beautiful flower of evil,

You are the most beautiful, number one in this world.

"Whyyyyy. Thank you." You yawned sleepily. "Why am I here again?"

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the most..."

"For thee, guided by the Mirror of Darkness," You read off from the plaque in front of the mirror in the center.

Follow thy heart and take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.

"Yoooo, these effects are kinda cool." You leaned forward, seeing black mist forming in the mirror.

Flames that turn even stars into ashes,

Ice that imprison even time,

Great tree that swallow even the sky,

"How poetic. I would applaud if this was in English class."

Don't be afraid of the power of darkness,

Come now, show your power.

Mine, theirs, and yours,

Your brows furrowed slightly as you felt yourself walking towards the largest mirror.

"Am I so sleepy that my brain and my body ain't working together. I've done that before I mean..." You wondered out loud.

There's only little time left for us.

Do not let go of that hand, at all costs.

Your sleepy eyes widened when your hand, completely out of control, started to reach for the hand that was appearing in the mirror.

"Marie? Are you doing this shit?" You screamed, at this volume, people outside would surely hear you and start rushing in right?

"Marie?" Your voice faltered.

"I- should've waited for Marie..." You whispered, your consciousness fading away as the hand in the mirror grasped yours...

"Marie...find...me"

To be continued...

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Chapter 2-Mama's Medicine

He's watching the road front and back. It doesn't help that Barb is in the passenger seat and Fizz is in the back and they're both yelling whenever they see a car nearby. 

"Guys chill the FUCK out! I'm the one with a license for a reason", he tells them and it quiets them for a moment, then Barb speaks up again, "Only cause Dad made me do a show on my test day", she complains and Blitzo rolls his eyes. That's all they ever talk about anymore, is the shows they're made to do and the things they miss because of it. Well- and why they're all in this car. For Mama. 

"Blitzo you're gonna miss the exit!" Fizz yells and points to a sign, and Blitzo swerves into the exit, making Fizz and Barb hold on to one another.

"Hehe...everything's fine...", he looks back but Barb yells back, "EYES on the road asshole!" 

Blitzo finally drives into the parking lot in Sloth and parks the car, and the teens all fall out of his mom's station wagon that he'd "borrowed". 

"Oh sweet unmoving ground!" Fizz says, pretending to blow the ground a kiss. Blitzo rolls his eyes and nudges him, "Pff, you're not funny".

"Liar", Fizz shoots back. 

"Jester slut!" Blitzo jokes back but Barb flicks the back of his head, "Ow what the fuck!" 

"Get your heads focused bozos, we're here for Mama", she says and Fizz sticks his tongue out at Blitzo. 

"Don't make me flick you too", Barb points and Fizz hides behind Blitzo. They follow her into the pharmacy and look around boringly. 

"Hey you think Mama could use a neck massager?" Blitzo jokes as he tries it out on himself. Fizz grabbing it and trying it out as well. 

Barb rolls her eyes, "No". She pulls both their arms over to the pharmacy desk as a tall older imp woman looks down at them. 

"Can I help you kids? Candy is on aisle 5", she says and Barb narrows her eyes. 

"We're here to pick up a prescription. Tilla Buckzo? We're her kids-", she grabs Blitzo and pulls him to the front, "And he's 16 so he can grab her medicine for her", she says, gesturing to Blitzo. Barbie hasn't been able to get her ID updated, again, because of being forced to do shows. 

Blitzo's mouth is in a line but he nods and hands her his ID, she looks it over with an uncaring stare then hands it back, "Alright then, what kinda medicine?" She asks. Barb and Fizz look at one another and shrug but Blitzo speaks up, "Immunotherapy meds. She has an autoimmune condition that rapidly gets worse", he tells her and for a moment the pharmacist looks impressed. Blitzo writhing his hands behind his back in anxiety. 

She comes back and tells the dosage instructions to Blitzo who nods, then gives it to him. 

"Do you have the copay? It's $50", she tells him and the teens freeze. A copay? What's that? 

Blitzo stutters, "W-well uh-What's that!" He points and when she looks away he holds the bag of meds close to his chest and runs, pulling Barb's arm who pulls Fizz's. They run to the car as the pharmacist sicks two hellhounds onto their trail. 

"Blitzo! The key!" Barb yells as she watches the hellhounds draw nearer and Fizz jumps up and down nervously. Blitzo throws the medicine back at Fizz who holds it close, then Blitzo digs in his pockets for the key and pulls it out, pushing it into the driver's seat door. Pulling open the door he sits and finally is able to unlock the rest of the doors and Barb and Fizz frantically fall into the car, pulling the doors closed with their tails. 

"Blitzo get us out of here!" Fizz yells, covering his eyes as the hellhounds aim a gun for their window. 

"Don't worry I got this", he turns the ignition and reverses the car, running over the hellhounds, then accelerates forward, speeding towards the inter-ring highway. 

Barb widens her eyes as she looks back, "Did you just kill people?!" 

"Mama needs this medicine, Barb", Blitzo says seriously, continuing to accelerate. 

"Yeah but Blitzo that's...death that's...killing!" She says and Fizz covers his ears, "Let's just pretend we were never here!!" He says. 

"I agree", replies Blitzo. He looks back and no one is on their tail, he slows down to the speed limit. Turning into the exit of Pride, where their circus currently resides. 

They all get out and Fizz hands Blitzo the bag of medicine. He holds it close and heads separately to his Mama's tent, not even checking to see if Fizz and Barb are behind him. 

He runs in and finds his Mama on her couch, watching her shows. 

"Hi Mama", he says. She looks up and smiles, acknowledging him. He walks over to the kitchenette and pours some water in a cup, then sits next to her and pulls out the pill bottle, popping the top. 

"The pharmacist says to take this twice a day okay?" He says, handing her the pill and cup. She shakily takes them but puts them down first. 

"Mama no you gotta take them...", Blitzo says then she puts her cold hands on his cheeks. He leans into them. 

"You went all the way to Sloth for me? Did you take my car?" She asks. Blitzo looks down and nods. 

"Such a sweet boy", she kisses his forehead then takes the cup and pill, taking it. 

Blitz wakes up sweating, both claws gripping the sheets and tearing a little through their silken cover. 

"Darling?! Are you alright?" Stolas asks as Blitz breathes heavily, looking around to get his bearings. He nods, "I'm...fine. Just..very realistic dream". 

Stolas climbs into the bed and pulls Blitz towards him, "Would you like to talk about it?" 

Blitz wraps his arms around Stolas's torso and squeezes close to him, coughing a little more and Stolas rubs his back again. 

"Not really", he replies. Stolas kisses his forehead, "As you wish". 

[lazeecomet]

HATEHATEHATE microsoft edge and how it and google are just getting in the way of anything web legacy

So there is this device at work. its called an EPD. the name is not important. all you need to know is that it has an IP address 192.168.X.XXX that you need to connect to it in order to get data.

for whatever reason the company that makes it just hasnt updated the UI or interface since 2005 because this thing does NOT work on modern browsers.

well.... it works mostly that is. except for the chart. it can display a realtime graph of Important Data that i need to look at in order to calibrate it. the chart does not work in edge. it does not work in chrome

it needs java

AND NOT ONLY THAT

it needs ActiveX Controls

BUT NOT ANY NORMAL ONES.

Noooooo it has to pretend to be a website to download you an unsigned ActiveX Control driver? extension? IDK what it is but you need to install it.

but we are getting ahead of ourselves here. suffice it to say, the computer that would NORMALLY display this chart got reformatted and now it cant. so i used my laptop

so i opened Interet Explorer because that is the program that works

Edge opens the MSN homepage instead.

thats not what i want. i tried Edge. it cant display the graph. I open Internet Explorer again

edge opens another MSN homepage window

i install google chrome. it also doesnt work. they are both chromium after all. i try to install firefox. its blocked on the network. i need to prevent edge from closing IE

with a little google-fu i rename my BMO or whatever folder in my edge folder to prevent it from openening Edge when i want IE

it doesnt work

i do some more google-fu and disable my extension settings to prevent the BMO thing

another MSN homepage opens

I start digging into the forums on HVAC websites because these guys are having the same problem only with AC units. I find it. I have to create a VSB file that force opens the website with edge. cool.

whats a VSB file?

after an hour of fucking around just TRYING to OPEN IE so i can use the browser that can display the chart i have created a VSB file that OPENS IE ON THE IP ADDRESS OF THE EPD UNIT

the graph doesnt work. i need java

the java webpage doesnt load on ie

i download it with chrome

still doent work. i have to enable it in my extensions from IE

THE GRAPH DOES SOMETHING!

it asks me to download something. i say yes

edge tells me it blocked an unsighed ActiveX Controls program from running.

what the fuck is ActiveX Controls? can i download it somewhere else?

NOPE! its backed into IE. you gotta go into your internet settings and basically turn off all your security or add the website to your list of trusted websites

my trusted website list is controlled by IT. i cant change it. the weakest settings i can enable still result in the program being halted.

i have apparently generated several dozen automatic support alerts as every time i try and run it it sends a warning to IT that i am accessing a potentially dangerous site

its taken me 2 hours and i have not even started calibration.

i am forced to do the backup method of just blindly assuming everything is working and downloading the CSV file later. this too ends up not working but for reasons i will have to figure out tomorrow. the data is there but the math is wrong.

fucking hate edge and its backwards incompatiblity

[harrywavycurly]

Happy Valentine’s 💖🥰 can we please get some FWB fluff now they’re all loved up?! X

Hiii lovey!! Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well!! I hope you enjoy this super fluffy (as fluffy as these two can be at least lol) update on our favorite FWB couple 😂💖

-find all things FWB Eddie here✨

*Eddie is still getting used to being your actual boyfriend but at least he got you a flower*

“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” Eddie pauses briefly as he not so gracefully climbs through the window in your bedroom. Your hands are on your hips and you’re raising an eyebrow at him when he finally makes it to his feet and turns to look at you.

“Uh it’s the day or romance and you can’t tell me there’s something more romantic than climbing through a window to see the girl you love.” You roll your eyes as Eddie brushes off his jeans before he takes a few steps towards you.

“What was the point of giving you a key if you keep using the window?” Eddie just shrugs as you smack his chest playfully, you know he’s still getting used to being able to come and go from your place as he wants and not having to sneak around anymore. “But did you say something about seeing the girl you love?” You ask with a small smile on your face as Eddie’s arms find their way around your waist.

“I did,” Eddie smiles as he leans in and kisses your cheek. “So we have to make this quick, her and I have dinner reservations in fifteen minutes.” You open your mouth to let out a groan but Eddie is quick to capture your lips in a kiss to keep you quiet.

“You’re such an asshole.” You mumble as he pulls away with a smirk. “Dinner reservations?” Eddie just nods and placed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Yeah at Lorenzo’s oh and this,” You can’t help but smile as Eddie lets go of your waist so he can reach into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a slightly smushed rose. “Uh is for you…sorry it must’ve gotten a little beat up on the journey up here.” You just laugh as you take it out of his hand and turn and grab the little stuffed bear off your nightstand.

“For when you miss me.” You explain as you hand him the bear, Eddie smiles as he takes it from you and he’s hit with the familiar scent of your perfume. “Look at us doing actual couple things like giving Valentine’s Day gifts.” Eddie playfully rolls his eyes as you lean in and place a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah yeah now come on we don’t want to be late.” You look at the time as Eddie grabs your hands and leads you out of your bedroom.

“Eddie we still have ten minutes and the restaurant is down the street.” Eddie just ignores your statement as you lock your front door and he leads you to the passenger side of the van.

“Yeah so that gives us like seven minutes to fool around in the back before dinner.” You shoot him a glare that makes him laugh as he closes your door and runs around to the drivers side.

“In your fucking dreams. I’m not fooling around in the van anymore Eddie that’s for last resort purposes only.” You explain as you put your seatbelt on, Eddie just looks at you with a raised eyebrow and then looks back at your house.

“So you wanna go back inside then?” You smack him in the arm as he laughs because even he can’t take himself seriously. He just leans over the center console and kisses your cheek before reversing out of your driveway. “Still love me?” He asks as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes I still love you.” You answer as he reaches over and places his hand on your thigh so he can give it a little squeeze making a small smile appear on your face letting him know all is forgiven.

“Good, I love you too.”

[bomberqueen17]

car etc update

I have driven so many cars. I'll witter on about them behind the cut but first I have to share a brief story of Reno the cat.

This morning Reno the cat was out by the greenhouse as I came in to stop at the house for breakfast. He was staring nobly off into the distance, no brain cell in his head whatsoever, just wind whistling between his ears.

A bit later, I'd had breakfast and was getting myself together to do some work today (which I promise I'm doing I'm just taking a Tumblr break, the first this week basically, so there), and I saw him sitting on the shelf at the porch window, staring in. Ah, I thought, he wants to come inside, because that is often how he signals that. So I went over to the door, and opened it.

He saw me and meowed excitedly, and clumsily made his way down off the shelf, which he doesn't know how to do gracefully. I stood waiting with the door open because this is the only thing one can really do, or Reno will get too confused to come in.

As he made it to the door, his sister Whiskey had clearly had enough; she also likes to go in and out the door and needs it held open a long time so she can stare through it and make her decision. The two of them share a brain cell and she usually has it. it's not a very bright brain cell. She shot out the door precisely as he was about to come in it.

This distracted him so much he turned around and followed her, which made her hiss at him and run away, and he could not help but chase her. I yelled his name and he stopped and then saw me and remembered he had wanted to come in the door. I called his name and he finally came in the door. I let go of the door, which has one of those pneumatic soft-closer thingies on it, so it mostly shut behind him but then bounced back open to hiss shut softer.

As it bounced back open, he turned and ran back out the door.

Cats.

[image description: the garden, through the large metal mesh of the deer fence, in a sea of dewy green grass and plants with some distant trees in the background, and in the foreground is a cinder block counterweighting the planting bench canopy to keep the wind from catching it, and a white cat litter bucket in the mid-ground (presumably with transplanting supplies in it); just beyond the legs of the planting bench, Reno the cat, who is gray and white, is sitting upright looking the other way, ears cocked forward as he gazes out over the garden.]

Anyway, cars--

I have now test-driven a Honda HR-V, a Subaru Forester, a Jeep Compass, a Jeep Renegade, a Nissan Kicks, a Volkswagen Taos, a Mazda CX-30 and a Mazda CX-5. And then I also drove a Subaru Outback, a 2020 Limited trim package that's now crossed the US several times and has had a young man intermittently living in it for some time, and said young man (who works here) was excited to tell me all about it and show me the Steering Assist which I can't deny would be pretty sweet if I was driving across the entire country.

Of those, the only interesting ones were the Subaru Forester and the Jeep Renegade. The Renegade is a Fiat really, made in Italy, and the thing I liked about it was super dumb-- it's so boxy and upright that the driver's seat is intensely vertical, your legs are really under you and you're sitting up high but with plenty of headspace, so it's sort of vaugely like a Wrangler only not quite so punishingly uncomfortable to handle, and it looks like a fucking Lego toy car but I tell you what I bet that four wheel drive is pretty sweet. Also 9.7 inches of ground clearance, hard to argue with.

The others were all fine, really, and the Mazda CX-5 downright pleasant-- good balance of cargo and headspace with reasonable fuel economy, good adjustability, friendly technology though a lot of that is probably just that Dude has been driving a Mazda since 2016 or so and as the passenger I've had to learn to navigate the technology. (M-L was excited that the star button might take you to space-- no, it's radio favorites-- and the paper airplane might be messages? no, it's navigation.)

I have a terrible feeling that for all my diligence and research I'm still going to wind up back in a fucking Subaru. I did get the scoop on the local dealership, a friend of M-Ls has a 4-year old Forester that she loves from that dealership which she hates despite it having almost the same last name as her. (One letter different. You'd think you could leverage that into them being nice to you. Guess not.)

I'm taking the Amtrak this weekend out to Rochester and it's going to be incredibly complicated to get back home. I looked at my schedule-- I'd been vaguely thinking I had two weeks off in a row coming up but i do not so either I'm going to take the Amtrak a whole lot over the next month and a half or I'd better just buy a fucking car. Blargh.

I haven't tried Kia or Hyundai and I missed Toyota because the Nissan guy wasted so much of my time (he was very clearly waiting for a specific car to come back from being test driven but not saying so, and finally M-L was like "genuinely we do not care what color" so he was like ok and went and got the one of the two other ones and then was like "there's no gas in this we gotta go get gas" arghhh anyway) that the Toyota dealership closed. I also have a dodge hornet on the list but they were all in the shop, which is weird. ("Naw there's some check engine light issue they all need a software reset over," said the guy, and i was like what does that mean and will that happen after i buy them, but he was like "don't worry about it" and we drove jeeps instead so okay?) And there's a couple of chevys and a ford and i'm really tired.

I've actually liked most of the sales people so that's been fun. We did genuinely shock the Mazda salesman when I admitted to being 44. "I was thinking you were young enough to be my daughter," he said, "but that's how old I am."

None of them have been able to figure out that M-L and I are sisters. M-L reports that occasionally I'll mention my partner having made me a spreadsheet, or that my partner drives a Mazda, and I often will use he pronouns for him, and she's like "I can feel them not looking at me because they'd all assumed I was the wife" which is hilarious. I mean for context we are very, very similar in appearance, similar coloring, similar size and shape, we really do resemble one another, but we have slightly different cheekbones/jaws/face shapes, so we're not identical or anything; we just have an obvious family resemblance. I guess it's not super normal to go car shopping with a sibling but I don't understand why it's so unexpected. As the like, bonus level, often we'll tell stories about Our Mom or Our Dad and we're clearly both telling the story? So I feel like it shouldn't be such a shock.

Anyway.

I'll be mildly annoyed if I wind up just buying the second goddamned car i test drove but on the other hand at least i'll know I bought it on purpose.

[kayhi808]

Billy Mine - Act 2.8

The New York sky was dark and grey as we left the Precinct this morning. I had agreed to let Bill stay the night so he was there to drive me in. I was expecting morgue pics but they were mug shots. They already had my statement on file along with witnesses. They didn't detain me. Bill was right. He had everything taken care of for me. Upon leaving the station, I felt sick and relieved all at the same time, but with Billy's strong hand wrapped around mine, I at least felt safe.

The day hadn't cleared up, as I sat in my office, staring at the wet streets below. Bill dropped me off at work & made me promise to stay put until my security came to get me. A knock on my door frame jolts me out of my daydreaming, "Billy," my heartbeat immediately kicks up a notch.

"I thought I'd come & get you myself," walking over to my desk. "You ready?"

"Um...sure." I hurry to gather my things. "Sorry, I didn't expect it to be you."

He leans a hip against my desk, "Disappointed?"

I stopped and looked at him. Is he serious? "Absolutely not." I'm rewarded with one of his smiles. "I'm ready."

Bill quickly escorts me down to the car. His driver waiting to whisk us away. "I spoke to your dad today."

I whip my head towards him, "My dad?"

"He's still my client, Bunny." My heart warms with his endearment. "I had to update him after I took you to work."

"I talked to my mom, too. I told her you came to the station with me & everything was fine. Um, they're returning to the city for a fundraiser this weekend. I'm attending." Billy nods & I hold my breath, "Will you go with me?" Billy doesn't answer right away & I let out my breath, "It's ok. I just..."

"Hey, you know there's nothing more I'd want to do..."

"No, it's fine."

Billy shakes his head, "Bun, if you want me there, I'm there."

"No, tell me what's wrong."

Smiles, "I think we've established that you are more than just a job to me. But, I'm still technically employed by your father & he's a sitting US Senator."

"And your Billy Fucking Russo!" Bill laughs & this time I take his hand to kiss. "I get it. I understand."

"We spoke about that already, too. Since you were going to be with your family, Secret Service will take over your security for the evening. You'll be safe." I rest my head on his shoulder & I feel him drop a kiss on it.

*****

Rain starts to come down as soon as Billy dropped me off at home. I lean my forehead against the cold glass, my breath fogging up the window as I look out onto the Village. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I didn't. If he's concerned about my Dad, there's only one person who'd be able to sway him.

"Darling, twice in one day. Is everything ok?"

"I need help, Mom."

Gone is the light-hearted tone, "Jules? What's wrong?"

"No, I'm sorry! I'm fine. It's not that serious." I take a deep breath & jump in. "I want Bill to come to dad's fundraiser with me this weekend...as my date."

"Juliet."

"I know what you're going to say, but I can't help it. I thought it wouldn't be a problem. It's been 20yrs, but I still feel connected to him."

"He's a cute boy, who grew into a handsome man."

"It's more than that. If all I wanted was a handsome man, they are a dime a dozen. I could easily get one. This is Billy. My Billy." I get up to pace my living room, "Billy was my family before you & dad adopted me. There's a reason we've been brought back into each other's lives again. Mom, I've loved him since I was 3yrs old. I still do. I can't explain it, but I don't want Dad to be mad & hold it against him."

"Did he put you up to this?"

"No! He would NEVER. Which is why I'm talking to you. You remember how I was at Ray of Hope. You remember how much Bill meant to me."

"It was a child's crush." She doesn't understand. I wipe away tears that were falling down my cheeks. "What has Bill said about this?"

"He's ever the professional. I want to ask him to be my date this weekend. And he'll tell me no, unless I can convince him otherwise. He has a successful business & reputation..."

"I'm aware of his reputation. Are you?"

"Him & I have the same reputation. You're always asking about any boyfriends. None kept my interest. You wonder why none of my relationships lasted very long? None of them were Billy. Billy is still the only one I want." There's silence on the phone, from both ends. "Mom, Dad & the Secret Service vetted ANVIL when they were looking for private security detail for me. Dad chose him. Billy is the best. That foster kid who had nothing & no one turned into a good man. Hardworking. Dedicated. Successful.

Sighing, "I'll talk to your father."

"Thanks, Mom."

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11 @snowkestrel @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers @russosafehaven @terry2227 @jvanilly @celestialams