#hanna cherish him

[forza55]

what is this hold you have on me │ images via vettelmyangel on ig

[vettelsvee]

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PROLOGUE: A PHONE CALL AND A NEW BEGINNING [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

come what may masterlist | formula 1 masterlist

Red Bull Sebastian Vettel x Red Bull intern & Webber girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Sebastian breaks up with Hanna and Y/N, his best friend, offers him to go to her hometown to try disconnect from everything. However, things take a turn for the worst when Mark Webber, Seb's teammate and Y/N's boyfriend, calls her and starts thinking she's cheating on him with Vettel.

WORD COUNT: 7337

WARNINGS: Angst, curse words and bad language, such a toxic Mark Webber, mentions of death, cancer and suicide

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @residentdemonhunter @astronomyandfrogs @herdetectivetheorist @prttylight @i-love-sirius-black7 @dreamauri @03071987 [feel free to join the taglist!]

VEE'S NOTES: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you like it reading too! If so, feel free to comment me your thoughts, as well as rebloging it since I'd appreciate that a lot! Thank you so much for reading in advance <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Linz, Austria January 15th, 2010

"Sometimes I wonder if, besides whether I deserve everything I've achieved, I'm actually doing good enough to keep it. I mean... do I deserve my position at Red Bull, or are they just keeping me because Seb was the one who got me in, and now I'm also Mark's girlfriend? And about that last part... am I really what my boyfriend deserves, or, like dad says, is it just a passing fling of a few months where I only want to sleep with him as some sort of stress relief? Seb says that, as long as Mark makes me happy, that's what matters, but... does Mark really make me happy? Or is it..."

"I'll open the door, Dad!"

Louisa's voice snapped you back to reality.

Carefully, you put away the journal he had given you for your twenty-first birthday, which had served as your therapy ever since, in the nightstand drawer. Then, you jumped out of bed with an energy you hadn’t felt in a long time and cheerfully walked over to your desk. You carefully moved aside the scattered notes you still hadn’t put away despite the semester ending two weeks ago and made sure everything looked as presentable as possible. Your straightened hair fell over your shoulders, though your bangs needed a little fixing, nothing you couldn’t adjust with your fingers. You also applied some lip balm, more to add a bit of shine than to keep your lips hydrated. Lastly, you adjusted your clothes as best as you could, trying to relax as much as possible and, most importantly, remind yourself that he would be more than happy to see you, no matter how you looked.  

You knew that Sebastian Vettel was just your best friend, but in some way, you always tried to appear as perfect as possible before him to show you were worthy of his friendship.  

You knew that, no matter how much Sebastian had cherished you since you both met in 2008, when you joined Toro Rosso as an intern while he was already a driver, he was better than you in every way.  

The door suddenly opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and revealing your two younger sisters peeking through the gap.  

“Why are you taking so long?” Amelie, 15, inquired. “It’s not like your boyfriend just arrived…”

“Yeah, yeah! Why are you getting all pretty?” The youngest, Louisa, 8, chimed in. “Seb is already downstairs waiting for you. He’s talking to dad and uncle Hans about football, and I’m so bored…”

“Shut up you idiot,” Amelie responded, giving her a light shoulder tap. “Don’t listen to her,” she turned to you. “What they’re actually doing is grilling Sebastian about why he’s here today and, more importantly, why he’s staying with us for a few days.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. As far as you could remember, Seb hadn’t mentioned anything about staying over.  

“What do you mean, staying with us? Seb said that?”

“Uncle Hans thinks he’s just a friend, but dad believes you’re sleeping with him while also sleeping with Mark,” Amelie retorted.  

“How the hell would I be sleeping with Seb?!” you shouted, making your sisters step inside the room and slamming the door shut. “That’s… ridiculous, that’s what it is,” you added, trying your best not to curse.  

“But if dad says it, it must be true, Didi,” Louisa replied, a bit annoyed. “You know dad never lies to us.”

“Listen to me, both of you,” you cut them off. “I need you to behave and promise me something.”

Amelie and Louisa exchanged curious glances before looking back at you.  

“I don’t want you to mention Mark in front of Seb. No jokes, no side comments about how much you dislike him… nothing. Got it?”  

“Why can’t I tell Seb I don’t like Mark if it’s the truth? Do I have to lie to him?” Louisa asked with her characteristic innocence. “I like Seb a lot, and I don’t want to lie to him…”

“Because…”

“If you’re hesitating that much it must be because you really are sleeping with Seb.”

“Amelie, shut it! Lou’s here!” you scolded, glancing at Louisa.  

“What does sleeping with mean? Does it mean you’re dating?” Louisa asked, looking at you one again with a mix of curiosity and doubt.

“Seb doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore, okay?”

Your statement left your younger sisters stunned. Louisa had liked Hanna quite a bit, and she had always been nice to her whenever they met. Amelie, on the other hand, even though she had liked the German woman, started wondering why that same German, who had seemed so in love with his girlfriend, had suddenly broken up with her.  

“Seb isn’t with Hanna anymore?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and give them a convincing answer, even though you didn’t have one herself.  

“Yeah, Seb isn’t with Hanna anymore,” you replied as calmly as possible. “Don’t ask why because he didn’t give me many details other than, well… that he needed a break.”

“Does Mark know about this not-so-surprise visit?” Amelie asked, crossing her arms.  

Your heart skipped a beat. If there was one thing you hated about your middle sister, it was how nosy she was for a 15-year-old. If she was like this now, you didn’t even want to imagine what she’d be like in a few years.  

“Not everything revolves around Mark, Ame,” you brushed off the question because you didn’t know how to answer that no, your boyfriend had no idea about this visit, which you were more than thrilled about. “Seb is my best friend, and he’s going through a lot. And do you know what good friends do in bad times? They’re there for each other.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say…” Amelie replied, unconvinced.  

Louisa, who was about to say how happy she was that Vettel was there with them and how much she preferred him over Webber as your boyfriend, was interrupted by their father’s deep voice calling from downstairs:  

“Y/N Y/L/N, get down here! Your guest is tired of waiting!”

You quickly checked your reflection one last time, grabbed your phone, and, before opening the door, turned to your sisters with a stern look:  

“You two,” you pointed at them, “no jokes today. Not a word about Mark or anything related to him.”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly as she headed for the stairs. Amelie, however, simply shrugged and smirked mischievously.  

“I’ll think about it,” she said before following Lou down the stairs.  

“Amelie!” you hissed under your breath.  

“Fine, fine. I promise…”

Rolling your eyes, you made one final check to ensure you looked perfect before stepping out. Your heart pounded uncontrollably as you descended the stairs. You tried to push aside any thoughts that could make your reunion with Sebastian awkward, or let your nerves get the best of you.

However, everything seemed to go to hell the moment your eyes landed on the German.  

Sebastian was there, chatting animatedly with your aunt, Johanna, who was chopping vegetables. You were taken aback to see him with his sweater sleeves rolled up, still wearing his Red Bull beanie, as he carefully cut something.  

Afraid your friend might catch your staring, you quickly glanced at the dining table, where your father and uncle were still engrossed in the football discussion Lou had mentioned. Your sisters were at the other end of the living room, turning on the Wii console, likely to start a game of Mario Kart and try to get Seb to join them.  

You looked back at the driver the moment you heard him laugh, probably at something your aunt had said. He looked so natural, so comfortable, as if he truly belonged in your family. He hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him, nearly three months ago, but you suddenly felt a strange sensation in your stomach, similar to the anxiety you got during exams, but for an entirely different reason.  

The more you observed him, the more you noticed how tired he looked. How… sad he seemed. And somehow, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, that made you feel absolutely awful.

Or perhaps you were beginning to admit what you had never acknowledged to yourself in order not to ruin the friendship you had always needed but never truly had.

“Ah, Y/N! Look who I put to work. He’s better than me at cutting onions. You should tell Seb to come visit us more often, so he can help me when your sisters don’t want to.”

Seb turned at the mention of his name. The smile he had missed so much appeared on his face the moment he saw you. Before you could say anything, he closed the small distance between you at an incredible speed and, without a word, embraced you.  

You remained still for a few seconds, surprised and unsure of what to do. The contact completely unsettled you, but as soon as he started stroking your hair, you relaxed and returned the hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and pulling him closer.  

“You don’t even have an idea of how much I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your head.  

“I missed you too.” 

And you have no idea how much, you thought, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.  

Why did your entire being seem to change, becoming something so complicated and inexplicable, whenever he was near?  

If only he knew what that farewell at the last Grand Prix of the season had meant to you…  

When you pulled apart, the driver studied your face carefully. There was something about you that felt a bit unfamiliar… different. He couldn’t tell if it was your hair, a little shorter since the last time he saw you; the dark circles under your eyes, more pronounced than they should have been after three weeks of vacation before starting your final university semester; or the evident weight loss.  

“I really wanted to see you again,” he forced himself to say instead of asking what had happened to you to make you look so… different.  

You forced a small smile and lowered your gaze, embarrassed by not knowing what else to say. You had thought of telling him that he looked great, because, in your eyes, he always did, but decided against it, considering the reason he had come to visit.  

“So they put you to work, huh?” you finally said, gesturing toward your aunt, who was watching them while continuing to prepare dinner.  

“Not really. I volunteered,” Seb replied with a smile. Johanna was about to say something, but the young man interrupted her. “It’s the least I could do after you let me stay here for a few days.” 

You swallowed hard. You were more than happy to have your friend stay with your family for a few days, but… why couldn’t you remember anything about that conversation?  

“And let me tell you, he’s an excellent volunteer. If only Mark were more like…” 

“You don’t have to treat him like royalty, Johanna,” you cut off your aunt before she could say more. Seb blushed and started nervously playing with his hands. “He’s just…”

“Yes, I know, your friend,” the woman replied, apologizing to you with a glance. “But, as your friend, he is also our guest, and he deserves the best. Besides, he doesn’t complain about my excellent taste in music, unlike someone I know…” She added, glancing sideways at her husband.  

Seb chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter without breaking eye contact with you.  

“At least it’s better than those weird songs Ricciardo used to play when we were at Toro Rosso. Do you remember when he got obsessed with playing Nessun Dorma before every race?”  

“Oh God, don’t remind me. I love classical music, but I still have nightmares about that.”

You both laughed at the memory of the year you met, when you had become each other’s biggest support. Everything had changed, perhaps too much, in those short two years, but what mattered most was that you still had each other, no matter what.  

At least, for now.

You tried to step a little closer to Sebastian, but the sound of your father dragging his chair and moving toward you made you step back shyly.  

“Well then… what’s the plan, Vettel? Are you staying here for a few days?”

Seb nodded nervously at Bernhard’s question. Even though he knew your father well and had met him countless times, he always felt nervous whenever they shared the same space, especially when they had a conversation.  

“Well… yes. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he quickly added, stepping closer to the older man. “I needed to get away from Switzerland for a bit, and even more from Heppenheim… to clear my head. And, to be honest, there’s no one else I’d rather spend this time with.”

His gaze shifted to you, who were trying to process his words. You kept glancing nervously between Bernhard and Sebastian, afraid one of them might say something inappropriate.  

“Of course, kid,” your father finally answered, giving Seb a pat on the back. “You know you’re more than welcome here. Hell, I should pay you extra for taking such good care of my little girl when you’re away!”

“Dad…”  

“I do it gladly, Bernhard. I’ve already told her, but in case she’s forgotten, let me say it again: I love spending time with Y/N.”

You lowered her gaze, embarrassed by all the attention you were receiving, and especially by the scene unfolding before you. You didn’t need to look up to know that Seb had his eyes on her, just like your father. You also knew that your aunt was probably muttering some comparison between your best friend and your boyfriend, and that your uncle would soon join in.  

Sebastian took a chance and, while continuing to talk with Bernhard who, due to his worsening health, had quickly taken a seat on one of the dining island stools, wrapped an arm around your shoulder.  

To their surprise, no one objected.  

“Uh… Dad?” you spoke up, your voice small and hesitant as you carefully removed Seb’s arm and leaned over the kitchen island.  

“Something wrong?”

“Would you mind if… if Seb and I went for a walk?” You asked timidly. “And would it be okay if we had dinner out?” You added, this time addressing your aunt.  

Johanna set down what she was doing and turned to you. She narrowed her eyes slightly, inspecting the pair of friends. Then, she placed the knife on the cutting board and turned to you with a smile.  

“Why are you asking me? You’re twenty-one, almost twenty-two, sweetheart,” she answered, now turning to Bernhard, who agreed with his sister-in-law. “You don’t need our permission to go out, Y/N.”

You opened her mouth to respond but immediately closed it again. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, standing out even more against your now pale skin. You stared straight ahead, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sweater to avoid saying anything inappropriate again.  

To hide the fact that your insecurity and discomfort had, in some way, worsened since certain events with a certain person.  

“I think Y/N just wanted to check in case you were making extra food for dinner, Johanna,” Seb intervened. You met his gaze, silently thanking him for stepping in. “But if you’re worried about anything,” or Y/N, he thought to himself, “I promise to bring her back at a reasonable hour, safe and happy.”

Johanna raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard exchanged knowing looks, probably misinterpreting the German’s words, as they suddenly started chuckling.  

“Don’t even think about setting a curfew for my girl, Vettel. You’re a Formula 1 driver, and my daughter is six months away from graduating university. You’re both adults, for God’s sake!” Bernhard laughed, trying to keep a straight face.  

“We just don’t want you getting into trouble,” your uncle added. “I’m a lawyer, but I wouldn’t want you two as clients, especially not for free.”

Sebastian widened his eyes, unsure how to take the comment. You, on the other hand, just tried not to die of embarrassment, silently praying that the German was taking everything in stride.  

“Not to doubt you two, but, you know… trust is a dangerous thing.”

You can say that again, you thought, remembering the man twelve years older than you who, during your entire winter break, had barely reached out more than twice with phone calls that didn’t even last five minutes.

"Well, I think it's best if we start heading out," Seb commented as he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. "Come on, Y/N," he said, taking your hand while waving goodbye to your family with the other. "We won't be late, I swear!"

Your sisters said their reluctant goodbyes, thinking the German was going to play with them. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard started making bets about what would really happen between the two of you that night.

Johanna was the only one who walked you to the door, carefully adjusting your coats, scarves, and hats as if she was your mother.

"Have fun, you two, you deserve it. And you, Seb, don't think you’re getting out of helping me tomorrow. You still have to teach me that lemon cake recipe you always say your mother makes."

"Don’t worry, Johanna," Seb replied while holding the door open for you. "I’m saving my morning for you and your cooking sessions."

The woman smiled, delighted to have the German around, and said goodbye to you once more.

As soon as you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your faces. You took a moment to inhale and exhale, relaxing and feeling, for the first time in a long while, free. More than anything, you felt like yourself. Seb walked beside you, unable to stop smiling, grateful to be in his best friend’s hometown, with you by his side, helping him get through the rough patch caused by his breakup with Hanna.

"Do you always blush that much around your family, or is it just when you have company?" Seb asked after a while, nudging you playfully with his shoulder while keeping his hands in his pockets.

"Don't start with that, Seb! You know I can be a little shy sometimes..."

"It's okay, I already knew that," he interrupted. "I think it's really cute when you blush."

"Sometimes you're unbearable, you know that?" you shot back, playfully.

"I know, but you love me anyway."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. One you couldn’t argue with because she completely agreed.

And that, more than comforting you, made you worry more and more about your relationship.

Despite the recent snowfall, the streets of Linz were busier than you had expected. The ice-skating rinks were packed, and to your surprise, the winter market stalls, forming a kind of fair that attracted people of all ages almost daily and which you loved visiting, were overflowing with people.

Although taking Seb there had been your original plan for his first day, you had decided to do something more intimate with him instead, something you hadn’t done in a long time, not even with Mark. However, you knew your relationship with the German was special enough to share something so personal with him without regretting it afterward.

"Since this is the first time you’ve come to visit me, I’ve put together a little tour so you can really get to know my city," you explained, looking at him. "That way, when you leave, you’ll know Linz as well as I do. And maybe, if one day you bring someone here..."

"You’re going to show me what tourists don’t usually get to see, aren’t you?" he interrupted. "I mean… promise me you’ll show me every last little corner, even the ones way out on the city outskirts. That could really come in handy someday."

"No problem. I’ll show you everything you want," you replied, flashing him a proud smile.

He laughed at your comment. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he awkwardly brushed his right hand against your left one. You blushed and tried to move it away, but Seb didn’t let you, he ended up taking your hand, not caring that you were just friends and that you had a boyfriend.

Because you were just that, friends. No matter how much he wanted it, he could never, in his life, date someone like you. Because while Mark was already a man with a clear path and a well-established career, he was just a twenty-something still learning from every mistake he made.

With your hands still intertwined, Sebastian’s gaze roamed the streets, the people, and the buildings surrounding them.

"This place is beautiful, and peaceful in its own way despite the bustle. I can see why you love it so much..."

You nodded, feeling your heartbeat speed up. Linz wasn’t the best city in the world, nor did it hold many good memories for you since your mother’s suicide and your sudden move to Spain. But, at the end of the day, it was your home, and hearing him appreciate it meant more to you than you could ever admit.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, stopping every so often so you could point out your old school, your university, and even your favorite café, the one you used to go to when studying at your aunt and uncle’s house became too chaotic.

However, just as you were nearing the place you wanted to take Seb, he broke the silence with a question that, while not entirely unexpected, was the last thing she thought he would ask.

"How are things with Mark?"

The casual question made you slow your pace slightly before quickly recovering and catching up with Sebastian.

"They’re… fine," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, the usual. He’s in London, I’m here, we call each other..."

Don’t lie to him, Y/N.

"And does that make you happy?"

"Yes, of course."

You wanted to tell Seb the truth, but you couldn’t.

This time, he was the one who needed support, not to listen to complaints and tears about a relationship with a questionable age gap and an even more questionable dynamic.

"And how are you doing after everything with Hanna?" you asked, changing the subject and hoping you hadn’t overstepped. "Ever since you called to tell me what happened, I’ve been worried, but I didn’t want to push..."

Seb’s expression darkened slightly. He let out a sigh that you were sure he had been holding in longer than he would’ve liked, staring straight ahead as you walked.

"We’re okay. I’m okay," he corrected himself. "Nothing weird happened or anything, it’s just that…" he trailed off, possibly choosing his words carefully before continuing. "We ended things amicably, you know? No hard feelings, no fights, nothing like that."

"Well, I’m glad to hear that," you replied, choosing your words carefully as well. "It caught me completely off guard because… I don’t know, it seemed like everything was fine. You two were together for three years…"

"Yeah, three pretty good years, but I think we realized we were only staying together because we were comfortable, because it was our routine, not because we actually loved each other." He paused, looking at you. "She never said it, and neither did I, but I get the feeling we wanted completely different things in life, and that was hurting us, even if we didn’t mean to."

"And that makes it even harder..."

"Exactly," he admitted, giving you a bittersweet smile. "But I feel like it was the right decision for both of us. It’s just that… making such a risky choice after thinking about it for so long, and wanting to do the right thing, is tough. Honestly, right now, being alone again is really difficult, but I guess it’s just a matter of time before I get used to it."

You didn’t know what to say, and you had no clue what deeper meaning lay behind Sebastian’s words.

"You won’t be alone, Seb," you managed to say, trying not to get nervous. "You have me."

He looked at you, his body relaxing slightly as your steps fell back into rhythm.

"I know. And, even if you don’t believe it, that means much more to me than you can imagine."

For a moment, nothing and no one else existed, just you. You stared at each other, lost in each other’s eyes, as thoughts raced through your minds. Thoughts that, if spoken aloud, would haunt them for the rest of your lives, shattering everything you knew and had between you.

It wasn’t until you cleared your throat and quickened your pace that the moment broke.

"Come on, we’re almost there. I have a reservation at seven, and I don’t want us to be late."

"Wherever you say, my dear tour guide," Seb replied.

After walking for a few more minutes, you stopped in front of a restaurant tucked away in a small alley. Sonnengarten, garden of the sun in German, was written at the top of the façade, painted in a warm yellow color. Along with the soft lights illuminating it directly and the hanging flower baskets, it invited people to step inside. The instrumental music playing, what seemed to be rock from the '60s and '70s, was the cherry on top.  

“Well, here we are,” you said, visibly excited as she entered the restaurant.  

Seb watched you, noticing the special sparkle in your eyes.  

“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s obvious this place means a lot to you.”  

“It does,” you nodded, a small smile on your lips. “My mother used to bring us here every weekend. We always switched up our orders because, well, we loved, and still love, trying new things, but my dad always ordered a schnitzel,” you explained with excitement. That only made Seb feel even more grateful that you had brought him to such a special place. “My sisters and I would always try to convince him to try something different and share some of our food, but he always refused and made up some silly excuse.”  

“So, this is like… a sacred place for you, right?”  

“Yes, very much so. But since my mom passed away, we haven’t come back. Actually, this is the first time in years that I’ve come here to eat…”  

Your statement made Seb’s chest tighten. He knew how Rosalie, your mother, had died nearly eight years ago. He was fully aware of the impact it had on your life, which was precisely why he was more than grateful that you were sharing this detail, this part of your life, this seemingly important family tradition, with him.  

His friend. His best friend.  

“Really, Y/N, thank you for bringing me here,” the driver said sincerely.  

Before you could respond, a middle-aged man appeared in front of you. He quickly approached you and hugged you, a gesture you gladly accepted.  

“My dear Miss Y/L/N! It’s been so long, little one! You finally decided to come eat here again… it was about time!”  

“I’m really happy to be back as a customer, Matthias,” you replied kindly.  

The man’s eyes shifted to Sebastian, whom he openly scanned from head to toe. Once he recognized him, his eyes widened. After all, it was widely known in the city that Y/N Y/L/N was not only an intern for one of the most successful Formula 1 teams of the past year but also lucky enough to be working with one of the sport’s rising stars.  

“Well, well, Sebastian Vettel!” the man exclaimed excitedly, offering his hand to the German, who shook it with a smile. “Are you two dating?” he asked curiously.  

“No, no! He’s just a good friend of mine,” you said quickly, avoiding Seb’s gaze. “My… boyfriend,” you managed to say, barely containing youR embarrassment, “is the other Red Bull driver, Mark Webber.”  

“Oh, well, no problem!” Matthias laughed heartily, giving Seb a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Any friend of our Y/N is a friend of ours. Now, come on, I’ll take you to the Y/L/N family table. I’ve been reserving it since Y/N told me she was coming.”  

Sebastian observed you as the waiter led you to a table in a corner by a large window. You simply shrugged and smiled, feeling proud to see how happy and, most importantly, how at ease the boy seemed.  

You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and special at the same time when, before you could sit down, Seb pulled out the chair for you and pushed it in gently once you were seated.  

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, I’ll be back in a bit with the dishes I know are your favorites. Enjoy your evening.”  

The waiter winked at you and, once he was far enough away, you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed by the scene you had just lived through.  

“Oh god… I can’t believe he thought we were together,” you murmured. “Everyone here knows I’m with Mark…”  

“Well, maybe they think we’d make a good couple.”  

Seb laughed at his own comment, and you shot him a death glare, though it didn’t last long as the corner of your lips curved into a smile.  

“Don’t start with that too.”  

“I’m just joking, Y/N,” Vettel said with a satisfied grin. “Besides, if people think we’re together and we get, I don’t know, good tables like this one,” he pointed at their spot, “and free pastries like the ones the bakery lady gave me near your house today, I wouldn’t mind pretending we’re a couple.”  

You rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the flicker of warmth that bloomed inside you as you imagined a hypothetical situation where you and Seb were together, where you shared more than just friendship.  

“Well, I think it’s time we have a slightly more serious conversation, so no boyfriends, exes, or fake relationships,” you said as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s the plan for this year? Do you think you can win the championship?”  

“That’s the goal, my dear," he chuckled, pouring himself a glass of water and taking a sip. “For now, I think the car is good, and we have a strong team, but you know how things can go…”  

“The important thing is that you have what it takes, Seb: talent and ambition.”  

He smiled, a little shy at your compliment, and adjusted himself in his seat.  

“So, you better be ready to put up with me every time you win,” you continued playfully.  

“Only if you ditch Mark so we can celebrate properly.”  

Sebastian immediately realized he might have messed up with that comment.  

You, instead of responding, did your best to force a smile and act like you hadn’t heard what the German had just said.  

“By the way…” the driver spoke carefully, knowing he might be treading on dangerous ground. “When are we going to plan something? I came here, but you know… plans like we used to make when we were at Toro Rosso and before you started dating Mark…”  

You didn’t know what to say. You hesitated before answering, thinking about how things had changed since you were single and he was in a relationship with Hanna, who had always been wonderful to you and never minded Sebastian and you hanging out together. She had even tagged along on some of their outings, something that made you feel terribly guilty but, at the same time, too bad to refuse given how kind both of them were to you.  

“I don’t know, Seb. Things are… complicated, different… It’s nothing you don’t already know.”  

It’s obvious there are things Seb doesn’t know. Don’t fool yourself.  

“Well, we’ll come up with something,” he replied, trying to believe his own words. “We could go out after a race, grab something to eat… Or, I don’t know, during the summer break I could take you to the karting track where I used to go as a kid and see Michael…”  

You couldn’t keep listening because it hurt. The idea of doing such personal and meaningful things with Sebastian was difficult to process, especially considering you were dating Mark, and no matter how much you tried to talk to him about it, he wouldn’t take it well. You didn’t deserve that kind of attention, even though it was the only way someone had ever shown her… affection, love, or any of its variations. Mark had barely paid you any attention since you started dating, something you had noticed in other couples but had never experienced yourself.  

Seb kept talking, but the sound of your phone ringing, a childish melody set by his sister Louisa, snapped you back to reality.  

Your heart clenched when you saw Mark’s name on the screen.  

Your stomach twisted, anxiety creeping in, the weight of everything you hadn’t told anyone, not even Seb, suddenly pressing down on you again, returning in full force as if it had never left, not even when Webber seemed to have forgotten about you.  

“Are you going to answer?” Seb asked, tilting his head slightly as he noticed how doubtful you were.

You didn't move. You couldn't. You weren't ready to face a call from your boyfriend after weeks of not hearing from him, especially not in the situation you were in.

And even less so considering who you were spending time with at that moment, and how stubborn Mark had been about your relationship with Sebastian ever since you started dating, even knowing that you were, in reality, just very good friends.

“It’s just… It’s Mark,” was all you could whisper.

“And are you just going to let it ring? Come on, Y/N, he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like he’s going to kill you if you answer.”

“I’ll call him when we get home,” you swallowed hard, feeling your hands starting to sweat.

“Y/N,” Seb said, sounding more authoritative than he would have liked. “It’s just a call. What’s the worst that could happen?”

If only you knew...

“Come on, Y/N, pick it up. If he's calling, it must be important.”

Your fingers trembled slightly until you finally decided to press the answer button.

You forced a smile, even though the only thing you wanted to do at that moment was cry and tell Sebastian the whole truth. Instead, you put the phone to your ear and answered, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“Hello, Mark…”

“Damn, it’s about time you answered. Do you mind telling me where you are? I’ve been trying to reach you for days and days, and you’ve just ignored me.”

It’s a lie, Y/N. He hasn’t called. He’s manipulating you because, once again, he’s forgotten about you...

“I’m out,” you replied, controlling everything you said while looking at Seb, who had started talking with Matthias. “I’m having dinner.”

“And who exactly are you with?” Mark asked disparagingly, totally suspicious of you.

You gripped the phone tightly and opened your mouth to respond with the first excuse that came to your mind. But before you could, Matthias started talking too loudly with your companion:

“You’re such a gentleman with our Y/N, Sebastian! Are you sure you’re just friends?”

“Just friends, Matthias, really,” Seb replied cheerfully, although alert to you, who seemed terrified.

“Sebastian? What exact Sebastian, Y/N?”

Your blood ran cold when you heard the aggressive tone Mark was using on the other end of the phone.

“Mark, it’s not what you think…”

“Who the fuck are you with, Y/N?” Mark exploded. Even Sebastian and Matthias, who were still talking, seemed to hear the yelling coming from the phone. “Are you with Sebastian Vettel? Is it the Sebastian Vettel I’m imagining?”

“Mark, please, let me explain…”

“Explain what?” the Australian's voice started getting louder and angrier. “That you went out to dinner with him as if that was the most normal thing in the world?”

Seb, noticing the sudden change in you, both in your mood and body language, became alert. He turned his attention back to the waiter, this time giving an excuse after he placed all the plates on their table so that he could leave and give you some privacy.

Your tense posture and the fact that you became so silent, just listening to what his teammate was saying on the other side of the line, didn’t go unnoticed by him, and he knew there was more between them than what his friend wanted him to know.

“Take good care of her, Sebastian. Y/N deserves the best.”

Seb smiled kindly at Matthias’s words, and his eyes followed him until he was far enough away. His eyes then returned to you.

Something wasn’t right, and it was creating a feeling of internal rage in Seb that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Mark, I’ll call you when I get home, okay? I don’t want…”

“So you’re with him, right?” the Australian spat, not letting her finish. “Sebastian Vettel... Out of all the damn people you could be with, you’re with him…”

“Mark, please… Let me explain…” You started, your words already bordering on pleading.

“Think about the kind of girlfriend you are, Y/N,” his voice, though calm now, you knew he was about to start throwing poisoned darts that would torment you in the weeks to come. “While I’m busting my ass working, training, doing everything I can to move the damn team forward, you’re out there with the guy you claim is your best friend, going on dates. How would you feel if it were the other way around, Y/N?”

“It’s not what you think,” you whispered, unable to control the tremor in your voice.

“Oh really? Then what is it? Because to me, it looks like you're acting with another man the way you should be acting with your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?”

Don’t believe his words, Y/N... He’s trying to convince himself that it’s your fault just because he’s ignored you for almost a month...

“Mark, he’s my best friend, and you’ve known that since before we started dating. I haven’t hidden it from you, just like I’m not hiding anything from you now.”

Sebastian, paying close attention to every word from you, felt his heart drop at what you had said, especially the tone you used.

You mattered to Sebastian, just as he mattered to you.

“I wouldn’t take a girl to the city I grew up in if she was just my best friend, leaving my girlfriend feeling like second best, but hey, to each their own…”

You sighed, unable to stop looking at Seb, hurt by the words Mark had just said, even though you convinced yourself, despite knowing you were lying to yourself, that the Australian cared about you enough to consider you a girlfriend.

Oh my God, Y/N, you haven’t even met his parents yet…

“You’re being unfair,” was all you could say.

“No, if anyone’s being unfair here, it’s you, Y/N,” replied Mark. “You’re selfish, and you think of no one but yourself.”

“I don’t want to keep talking about this, Mark…”

“Of course you don’t. Because you don’t want Seb to know what you’re really like,” Webber said harshly. “Maybe I should tell him myself. Do you think he’d believe me? Would he still want a bitch like you if he knew the real you?”

Your stomach dropped at what Mark had just said. You didn’t know what to say; you didn’t know how to contradict him because you knew it was impossible to make him think otherwise.

The worst part? Sebastian’s face went completely pale, which made you worry even more about what your friend might now think of you.

Without saying anything else, and while you still faintly heard the Australian’s reproaches, you ended the call, throwing the phone harshly on the table and unable to control your hands, which were shaking more and more.

“Y/N…” Seb spoke, unsure of how to approach the conversation he wanted to have with you about what had just happened.

“It’s... It doesn’t matter,” you corrected yourself. The last thing you wanted was for that heated conversation you had had with Mark to ruin your time with Seb, especially your stay with the German. “Let’s eat and let everything else rest, okay? I’ve been planning this for weeks, and I don’t want to ruin it because of a conversation that never should have happened.”

Seb didn’t seem entirely convinced by your words, and even less by your attitude. He knew you were broken inside at that moment, and nothing hurt him more than knowing he didn’t know how to help you.

“Y/N, if something’s wrong... you can tell me. You know that, right?”

You tried to force a smile again, but it was impossible. Instead, tears began to fall from your eyes, and no matter how hard you tried to control them, you couldn’t.

“It’s okay, Seb, it’s nothing. I swear.”

Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to him.

“Really, Y/N... No matter what you need or when you need it, I’ll be here... You’re not alone, Y/N, okay? Come what may.”

You looked at your hands, now in Seb’s. His thumb was calmly rubbing over them, something Seb knew perfectly well relaxed you when you had anxiety, like now, when you felt on the edge of a panic attack; or at least, that’s what the constant feeling of suffocation you couldn’t shake off told you, no matter how hard you tried to control your breathing and especially promise yourself that everything would be fine.

Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N, Mark’s voice echoed in your head in such a scene, making you pull your hands from the table and hide them beneath it, embarrassed.

Sebastian sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop trying to help you, no matter how reluctant you were. If you wanted to end the contact, so be it, but that didn’t mean he’d stop trying to make sure you were okay.

“I mean it, Y/N,” the guy insisted. “Whatever it is you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. You’re my best friend, and best friends are there to support each other. Just like you’re doing now, with me, with Hanna,” he added.

You looked up at him again, and your chest tightened. How could he be so noble with you? How was he able to say the words you needed to hear at every moment? With Mark, you felt small, as if you didn’t matter at all, but Seb... he made you feel like a princess straight out of a fairy tale, whose ending was still to be written.

“Thank you, Seb,” you murmured, unable to take your eyes off those blue eyes that so relaxed you. “For… everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. That’s what friends are for.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that, unlike your boyfriend, if you even were, or ever had been, someone could care about you. You didn’t want to give your best friend false hopes, but the way he treated you, how it seemed like he cared...

Why did Seb make you feel like the most special person in the world when the person who was supposed to care about you the most didn’t even bother to try?

Sebastian Vettel knew you like the back of his hand, and that was exactly what scared you the most.

[dontjudgemeforme]

Living out my six of crows lives on sims. I started them all as babies, but have all but the Brekker/Rietveld household set as not played (I'm letting their stories write themselves) and kicked all the OG sims out.

Kaz still has both his parents and jordie. (His dad is a rancher, his mom makes flower arrangements, jordie just went off to college and somehow moved in with Cassandra goth without me realizing it?)

Jesper lives not far from them with Colm and Aditi (they make nectar!)

Wylan lives with Marya, because I didn't even want Jan to influence him. So for all intents and purposes he is dead. Marya is a painter though! And Wylan has a music room that I've decorated with science beakers!

Matthias lives with his parents, his dad is a detective, his mom is a stay at home mom, and I recently discovered that he now has a little sister they named Cherish!

Inej has her parents, who are both entertainers. I frequently catch them stargazing at parks together, it's adorable.

And Nina is being raised by Zoyalai. Who are always yelling at each other? Book accurate ish for not being an active household.

All the crows made it to highschool, and on my first journey with Kaz to school, jesper and Nina were studying together

Mattias is T posing in the back alone lol.

And Wylan is a football jock?

As usual, couldn't find Inej anywhere, around the school, but as Kaz met all of them in school, she's gotta be here somewhere.

( i have not been editing them in CAS. Their clothes and hair and appearances are due to whatever the games decides as they age. I made their parents with features i thought would produce a genetic kid close to their in book appearances, except for Nina, whose parents we know nothing about, so her I pulled from the gallery and aged her down.)

*not pictured is Kaz and Inej, cuz I forgot to take a picture of Kaz and I can't find inej anywhere unless I summon her.

Hanne is here somewhere too, kinda hoping Nina, Matthias and Hanne end up a throuple without having to interphere.

Oh! Nina, Jesper, and Hanna are all spell casters. Though, i was just gifted that pack and haven't played around with specifics yet.

[bakersimmer]

The night before felt like a throwback for Hanna, reminding her of the day she got her first flip phone—the days of messaging about nothing and everything. Despite starting with doubts about the dating app, things took a turn. Just 20 minutes after she had wrapped up her profile, a first message from a potential match lit up her screen.

As the minutes ticked closer to her first date in years, Hanna's anxiety intensified. Pacing around the room, she contemplated a believable excuse in case she decided to back out at the last minute.

A recent phone call with her friend Jo echoed in her mind, each word playing on repeat. She vividly imagined Jo's concerned expression, a subtle shake of the head accompanying the words, "You found him from some kind of app?! Hanna, no! You're rushing things." While Hanna cherished Jo's genuine concern, a seed of doubt sprouted. Was Jo too close to this situation? In that moment, Hanna entertained the idea that she needed an outsider's view, someone with a fresh and unbiased perspective.

previous / beginning / next

[sillyromance]

Good day everyone!

Recently I have come across a beautiful character Time from Tim Burton's "Alice through the Looking glass" and decided to write a small fanfic about him and my OC for this universe. Hope you'll like it!

A deeper meaning

Time was listening. Chronometers were ticking gently above him, counting seconds of each life in Wonderland. Every day it was a day of someone's death and birth, new grief and new happiness. Tears and laughter, dancing and agonizing, love and loath - so many things, so many emotions contained in a simple monotonous sound: "Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock..." But Time could read it through like an open book. He knew everything - and didn't judge, but watched. Time cherished all living beings lying at will of his hand.

Suddenly his attentive ears caught something different.

Fast little steps. Shallow breath. Harsh heartbeat.

Time turned around. He saw Hannah a few meters away, her cheeks rosy due to running; she was panting, her plump lips opened just slightly. Grey wings were wrapped around her tiny figure not being higher than a quarter of his leg. The girl studied him nervously, as if asking if he was mad at her coming here. Though, it still was a glimpse of hope in her eyes. Time couldn't get angry even if he wanted to; she was small and weak, just a fly comparing to him. Now, when she was that tiny, it was brutally clear that even an originally six feet tall girl was yet nothing but a girl: young, awkward and fragile. A girl who was hard not to fall in love with.

- What is it, Hun? - He lowered down and made a welcoming gesture. - Why did you leave your apartments?

She rushed closer, but stopped right beside his hand, throwing shy glances at it.

- I just came to ask if you need anything. You overworked. - She murmured, opening her wing "shield" a little bit, but didn't come any closer.

Witnessing her hesitation, Time smirked kind-heartedly and leisurely picked the girl up from the ground. Fluffy, tiklish feathers touched his cheek and the man’s smile grew wider.

- I guess you are right, dear. - Time sat her on his shoulder and took his hat off revealing his beautiful brown hair - the same color Hannah had. – And… don't be afraid of me so much. It has been much of me already!

- M... Hm... - She nodded, moving closer to his face and settling in her favorite spot beside his neck. Young valkyrie dared to look in his shiny, sky-hue eyes and saw nothing but kindness and warmth.

- I guess it's a right time for dinner, since the Time is rather hungry!

The man turned on his heels and headed straight to the exit. His passenger giggled at the joke and hid in her thick feathers from the wind. She wasn't always that shy, actually. It was just... Him. They had been living together for two months, however, that uneasy feeling was too stubborn to set her free. Sometimes, he would scare her: with his loud voice, soldier pace, piercing gaze, hot temper – his breathtaking largeness, at the end. Besides, he was a lover of a mad woman who once wanted to force Hanna kill innocent people only because she was a valkyrie. A monster, as they say... She was kind of glad she drank that mixture and became small - at least, she wouldn't be that easy to find...

And, despite all that, Time accepted her. He knew who she was, what plans Red Queen was making about her, but he didn't tell a soul she was here. Why? It was hard to say for sure. Hanna wanted to believe he liked her, though it would be too good to be true...

The pair went through the Time-shaped corridor and took their course to the private quarters of the castle. The huge building was a unique piece of art: high ceilings painted by the best masters of Underland, the walls decorated with gold and black wood, specular floors so clean that, if you looked beneath your feet, you would think you were floating in the air like a balloon... It would be difficult to describe the whole glory of that wonderful place. Hanna never got tired of gracious, harmonious lines, of endless columns and pilasters, complicated patterns and pictures fascinating viewers with their colors and stories. There was a tale of the whole Wonderland written by hundreds of generations and carefully kept by Time itself, remembering each day, each life, each destiny.

At such moments, Hannah always thought about connection between a person who gave her shelter and a huge dial in the main hall. Behind a facade it was an immortal, the most powerful creature in the world, not just a cute man with funny German accent.

Maybe, that was the reason why every time she talked to him her knees shook, despite everything she had gone through.

Finally, they found the right door and Time laid a hand on a door knob, but suddenly a low metallic grumble thundered in the halls. The echo roared:

- Where is this clock head!? Find him immediately you fools! I know she is here, and he won't get away with this now! Oh, how angry I am! And he was telling me he loved me! Liar! Liar! Pathetic, disgusting liar!

Hannah would recognise that crispy, deafing scream from the thousands. She tensed and her eyes got poured with horror.

If they had come for her - and they definitely had - she was dead. She turned to Time – his face darkened. Gears on his neck were moving with abnormal activity.

- Don't worry, she won't hurt you. – He whispered gently, concern and anxiety in his artificially blue eyes. – I'll make sure of that.

Something about his tone wasn’t right, though Hannah didn’t pay much attention to that - and instantly regretted it. She couldn’t possibly imagine what was about to happen. Hanna let him reach her, hold her in his hands, bring her close to his lips and...

To say that she was terrified was to say nothing. She tried to struggle in his grasp, but his grip on her torso and wings was firm - it was impossible to make a move, and if she did, she would hurt herself, cutting her skin with various rings on his fingers. Her legs were squeezed by his throat, and no matter how hard she tried to kick them out of there, they only slid further downwards with each gulp. Very soon she saw a row of white teeth over her chest. The girl shut her eyes and waited for him to cut her head off, but... It didn't happen. Instead, very gently, she was guided to the pharynx and swallowed whole.

It was slick, and humid, and dark, and tight; strong contractions of the flesh – or whatever material it was – quickly overwhelmed her. The girl felt dizzy and nauseous – something between terror and disgust occupied her quivering soul. Time promised to protect her, and instead he did... This...

Why? How it supposed to help?

Was it a trap all along?

What… What if she was going to die?

Everything around her was ticking, scratching, whining, rotating - it was like being thrown in a huge old mechanism which the man actually was. Though she couldn't see, the girl could sense every cog doing its job. There were no organic sounds at all, and that startled the valkyrie even more. Still wiggling in poor attempts to at least slow down her glide, she was travelling along a slimy - or rather oily - tube to the core of Time and trembled, predicting what awaited her when she would reach her destination.

Suddenly, the walls squished the girl more intensively than usual - with a pitiful moan, she was expelled in a bigger room. It was soft and a little stiffy like an old laundry; as she crawled forward, her hands dove in a pool of viscous liquid. Like a mouse from a cat, Hanna jerked from it to the side and pressed her little palms against slippery inner surface of the pouch.

- Time! Time, don't leave me here! Please, let me out! What did I do wrong? Please, I'm scared... Time...

The valkyrie hit that elastic flesh and cried. She didn't get an answer, no matter how much she yelled into the pitch black nowhere. It was pointless - it was all pointless. At least... At least it would save her from the fate of becoming a murderer. There he was right - Red Queen wouldn't get to her here. No one would be able to get to her ever again.

Soon she stopped protesting and pleading, and just laid limp on the soft floor, burring herself in her wet feathers. The stomach was warm, and plushie - not the worst way to pass out. But he abandoned her. He... She thought, he was her friend.

Well, she forgot - time is a friend to no man.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Meanwhile, Time was at a very critical situation himself. Iracebeth came across him at the very second he felt his stomach swell, and that was good - she didn't know where Hanna was. However, the woman was so furious, Time could start worrying about his own well-being. She unceremoniously dragged him to the side and pushed into a living room where two guards stood beside an armchair. He was thrown there, and his "lover" sank him in an ocean of questions which were constantly interrupted by her complaints, threats, lamentations and drizzling of broken items she ran into while restlessly wondering around like a tiger in a cage. Although, it wasn't like Time really listened - his hand was on his middle, and he carefully examined his sensations coming from within.

He had to warn her...

Time heard Hanna's desperate screams, they broke his mechanical heart, but he couldn't reply to them, thought he really wanted to. She must have been very scared in there. She must have thought she was going to die... Poor girl. She suffered so much already, and now, when it seemed he managed to help her, he destroyed everything again. The only good thing was that she would be fine. He really hoped she would - if not mentally, then physically. Though, he couldn't really say he was fine - all that happened left him in pure shock.

Rubbing at the spot where he could feel the valkyrie's little body, Time mutely stared at the pissed off Queen and waited for her hysteria to burn itself out. His long experience with that woman taught him that at such occasions patience was the best tactic.

As he expected, thirty minutes passed and she gave up. After breaking one more vase, Red Queen, breathing heavily, sat on a sofa before him and gave her partner a venomous look. She was exhausted.

- ... And after all of that you don't even try to defend yourself? Fool.

- Why would I need to? - The man replied calmly, his gaze confident and clear. - I'm not in any trouble. You were definitely tricked, your majesty.

- What!? How dare you say such nonsense!

- I do dare because the girl you are talking about is not here and I have never seen her in my life.

- I hardly believe it. - The queen took out a big handkerchief and wiped her teary eyes. – And don’t call her that! She is nothing more than a beast. Ah! Even you deceived me!

Time accumulated all his will not to show sarcasm. He could understand everything - Iracebeth's aggression, her hatred towards sister, her sadness and tears, but sometimes her manipulative habits and cruelty were just too obvious. He would still feel bad about her no matter what since, unlike many others, he could see the whole picture of her bitter fate. But that time he stood on the other side of the barricade.

He had to make her leave. And, which was not less important, to keep their relationships in a safe bay.

- Well, I challenge you to test my devotion, love. Order your guards to look around my castle - I can assure you, you won't find any evidences against me.

- Your assurance doesn't worth anything. - She scoffed, turning away. - But you gave me a good idea. Guards!

The red soldiers immediately straightened up, waiting for her words.

- Search through this palace - look under every stone and on every shelf, shake it from the roof to foundation, but find me that winged freak. Alive! And don't stand like useless statues, go for it, now!

The guards obediently left.

While Red Queen wasn't looking, Time exhaled, relieved – Hannah’s quarters were hid well, only he knew the path. So, the game was already over.

At the meantime, in his stomach, the girl who seemed to settle down, suddenly came to life. Oh, it was pure luck only he could catch her voice out here. She sobbed. Gosh, that pretty tiny bird would give him a heart attack! Time didn't stop secretly stroking his taunt middle through the clothes, feeling how the clock in his chest ached as if someone stabbed it with a knife. He tried to convince himself she would be all right. Just some more minutes. He could afford it.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hannah heard him speaking to someone, possibly Red Queen. Nothing bad happened yet, and still she felt very helpless, and hopeless. It was unnerving to be stuck in complete darkness, figuratively and literally. The only "entertainment" she had was something touching her back lightly as if in attempt to soothe her, however, the valkyrie couldn’t know for sure – perhaps, it was just her lively imagination. She felt indescribably lonely. And that unchanging, never-ending ticking - cold, indifferent - it drove her crazy! She wanted, no - she demanded to get a sign, to hear a single word meant for her, anything showing that he remembered...

Hannah got up again and dug her fingers into the silk flesh once more, struggling to reach the source of slight sensation. Her lungs burned of crying. Choking and sniffing, she called:

- Time, please!.. Please, say something. I can't bare this anymore... Answer me!..

No respond. The girl pushed harder, but the wall softly sprang under her hands and Hannah slammed over the bouncy floor. Her wings felt numb and sore – lack of space didn’t allow them to stretch even on a half of their capacity. Moreover, they were soaked in that oily liquid and visibly weighted: the valkyrie couldn’t stay straight for long or it would make her back dangerously creak.

Time didn't hear her, or pretended that he didn't. The girl didn't know what was worse. Her love for him had a violent battle with disappointment and sorrow. It wasn't like she hated him, no. She just couldn't understand why. Now, when she thought it was the end, "why?" was the only question lingering in her tired mind.

It was inevitably the last question, every fucking time...

Old memories waltzed before her gaze, rapidly turning darker and uglier as they did.

It was definitely all her fault... They were right - it was her fault!...

Powerless, she gave up on the attempts to squirm. But, hiding her dirty face in her palms, she continued occasionally calling out for him.

She didn’t believe he would answer anymore.

But it was the only thing she could cling on just to stay conscious. To stay alive.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Time closed his eyes. It was almost over - they didn't find anything and soon the queen would be out. Regardless, any moment prolonging her stay gifted him with a new wave of agony.

- I'm scared... Don't do this to me... I... I beg you - don't be so cruel... – He heard a new faint shout from within and clenched his teeth.

Why didn't he come up with anything else? What was the reason he thought that swallowing Hannah was the best - and the only - option? Analysing it now, he saw countless possibilities aside that one. But... Back then it was something Time couldn't control. He had to keep her safe, yet close, because only then he could be certain the girl wouldn't get harmed. He rarely felt such strong emotions, and that made it difficult for him to find any proper explanation of what it was. But undoubtedly, it was something primal, subconscious. Something like... Hunger.

Time wasn't a human, though he looked like one; he didn't need to eat like normal people did. When he made a joke about dinner, in his case the man ment consumption of things that would simply keep him going, like oil, for instance. So, average hunger or starvation were unfamiliar to him.

However, that pang which struck him at the moment of danger tore a hole in him - at least, that what he felt. The man couldn't help himself, he knew - that was the right choice: to take her in, to become her alive armour, a tower no one could conquer where his tiny princess wouldn't fear anything. To satisfy that empty feeling. And his opened his mouth, and swallowed her whole despite protests and cries.

The only goal he achieved was that now, she feared him.

- I guess, I was wrong about you after all, my darling… - It was incredibly difficult to focus on Iracebeth, but Time forced himself to stand up as she jumped off her seat.

No one would expect so many controversial emotions to fight beneath the mask of courtesy on his face.

- See? I wouldn’t go against you, love...

- But I’m still mad at you! - She interrupted him. Her foot in a high-heel shoe gave the floor a capricious tap.

- What did I do to cause your displeasure, your majesty?

- You knew I was looking for that creature all along and didn’t do anything! If you really loved me, you would have already brought her to me!

- My seconds are working days and nights on that… It seems she is quite smart. Although, not smarter than my dearest, isn’t she? She will be yours, my sweet queen...

His smarmy grin made Iracebeth visibly soften – she smiled back and let her partner guide herself and her servants to the exit.

" Ok, act casual - a smile, a kiss, a bow. Don't let her know. They almost departed."

- Time... Please...

Wilkins opened the gates and the guests finally crossed the last border of his territory. He watched impatiently as Red Queen crawled into her carriage and two bright red horses with long black plumes on their heads swept her away.

-Time…

Wilkins vanished too. Good.

-Say anything...

- Hannah!

He put all the pain he felt into that word. The man leaned to the locked gates and hugged himself - hugged her inside of him.

- I am here. Please, don't cry - I meant no harm. I... You are safe. Trust me, Hannah - you are safe!

He fought the wish to cough her up right then and there - it would spook the girl even more; she could get hurt. He prayed she would listen. Time have never thought that his own seconds could be that intimidating; the valkyrie in his belly went silent. Deadly silent.

- I'm sorry I didn't say it to you earlier. It would be too dangerous! I... I understand how you feel right now - I will understand if you don't want to speak to me ever again, but I'm not kidding, Hun. I meant no harm.

The last phrase turned into a whisper on his pale lips. He was counting.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

- T-Time?

Her voice was cracked and high-pitched.

- You didn't leave m-me? Is it really you?

Thank goodness!

- Hannah...

- I thought... I thought you would... - She trembled. - That you would kill me...

- No, no, of course not! I'm very sorry... Forgive me, Hun. If you can...

He slowly sat down on the floor. Strange, but oddly pleasant sensation of another life wiggling around inside him restarted. He could say she still was kinda edgy, though the movement appeared to be rather curious than panicking. Time pressed a hand a bit harder against his waist, tracing the girl’s way. In return the man received a hesitant pat.

-What is that, Time?

- Don’t worry. It’s just my hand.

- Oh… - Hannah flinched. She put two and two together, and late realization came to her. – So… You… You were with me… I… oh, Gosh... I was an idiot... I should have thought!..

Her emotions was so strong that she couldn’t finish – the valkyrie simply buried herself in soft wrinkles of the stomach and rubbed at the spot where she could feel his presence. All her worries disappeared instantly.

- I’m sorry for rumbling – you don’t like that…

Time laughed drily.

-Do whatever you want and don’t even TRY to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me who scared you. By the way, I want to tell you: you don’t have to watch your step every moment around me just because I’m “the Time itself”! Sounds ridiculous, I know. However…

He paused, trying to find the words.

– I require honesty, Hannah. You should be honest with me and yourself. I’m honest with you – I care about you! I’m on your side! I won’t hurt you just because I can – there are people like that and you met them often – but I’m not them. I call my seconds stupid. But they are my beloved children I would kill for. It’s as true as the fact that you are my… friend.

Hannah noticed the place heated up. Wait… Was he blushing?

-T-thank you… Time. No one ever said that to me after my parents passed away. – She said quietly. – And, frankly… I couldn’t be happier now. I’m shocked – and glad – that you see me in this way. Because you are my friend too. I like you.

He didn't say anything about that. The space suddenly got even more crumped and the clock above started ticking a little bit off the rhythm – but it was just silence. Not frightening, but rather… fluttering that time.

Mechanical noises coming from here and there lost their flat and unbothered tone – they talked. They sang. A trap turned into a temple; Hannah suddenly thought that she was actually inside of his body. Well, it was obvious. But earlier it sent chills of horror down her spine while now they were the chills of extreme adoration. Before he appeared in her head as an invincible god. In fact, he wasn’t invincible – he could feel pain, he could be broken. She could break him like, right at that moment – or any other moment in the past. Time’s abrupt – almost instinctual – decision to put her under his skin, to give her access to the most vulnerable part of him only to defend her instantly obtained a much deeper meaning she was only about to understand - and deeply appreciate…

She snuggled deeper into the warm flesh, listening to the melodic rhythm of his body. He sat there, curled around her possessively.

They stayed like this for long – it could be an eternity.

Although, everything, good or bad, comes to an end.

-I guess, you want out now. – Time’s voice was slightly tremulous.

-I… I do. No offence. - She admitted shyly. - My wings need some space.

-Sure. – She could feel him straighten up. His palm didn’t let go of her even for a second. – And by the way... After you get ready, we still could have that dinner together. If you still want it, of course…

[staring-at-my-keyboard]

A Companionable Evening

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

The lovely @torturingpeople and I decided it would be really cute if his tender pathologist and my Atlas read together some evenings in the hotel, and I got carried away with it. Both of our characters are chronically sleep-deprived but they can have some peace, as a treat.

OC intros

POV: Tender Pathologist

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

Fluff

Light Angst

TWs

⇾ drug mention (laudanum)

୨⎯✎✎⎯୧

As I spent an increasing amount of time with Atlas, cultivating our unlikely yet pleasant friendship, one of the things we shared in common became increasingly clear:

We were both very, very tired.

For me it was due to the combination of perpetual stress that was the inevitable result of being in Dr. Hanna’s orbit for an extended period of time, my frequent taking of laudanum, and a rather poor sleeping schedule— when sleep is not interrupted by seizures or nightmares.

For Atlas it could have been any number of reasons, although from what I knew about him it was fairly safe to assume nights were no kinder to him than I.

Regardless of the cause, our shared fatigue was something I took an odd comfort in: behold, I was not alone in my struggles. There was someone near me that understood the absurd amount of willpower it sometimes took to rise from a chair, or to summon speech. Silent reading became an enjoyable shared pastime of ours, and I admit that my grin was not altogether dignified when he told me I was the only other person besides Thomas that they truly enjoyed doing so with.

Often enough to be a pattern, but not often enough to be constantly expected, Atlas— or more rarely, albeit by a small margin, I— would drift to sleep on the shared chesterfield. The other would take the lowered book, mark the page, and tuck a blanket over loose shoulders. The inaugural gesture was my own when Atlas fell asleep in front of me for the first time, Atlas then replicated it in kind when he witnessed my slumber, and it had become a tradition. Evenings like that were infrequent and therefore cherished, as oftentimes Atlas would be out or working, and I would already be turned in for the night or recovering from the latest tonic-clonic seizure, if not drifting on a sea of laudanum.

One particular instance of this pastime sticks out to me as an especially fond memory, and I am sure you will soon see why. It was an evening like any other of its sort, me flipping through a sort of sensational fiction work called a ‘penny-dreadful’ that Atlas introduced to me as he read some monograph, when I noticed him begin to nod off in the corner of my vision. A fond grin twitched at the corners of my mouth, only to immediately disappear with surprise when Atlas’ head dropped onto my shoulder as opposed to the arm of the couch. 

I froze, unsure of what to do, knowing his aversion to touch and unsure if I should wake him, or if that would only cause pointless distress. When I accidentally shifted as I deliberated, however, Atlas only released a sigh, and I decided to leave him be. It was not long before I myself began to feel fatigue’s pull at my eyelids, and leaving little room for doubt I allowed myself to lay my head upon Atlas’ own. It was surprisingly comfortable, him being at just the right height to prevent my neck from needing to maintain an especially strained position, and my eyes were swift to close.

Hours later found my back to be the stiffest it had ever been.

That was some of the best sleep I have ever gotten.

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[grishamanimationstudios102]

Ronald Raccoon and Pals

Set in a colorful, 1970s-inspired world, Ronald Raccoon and Pals follows the adventures of Ronald Raccoon and his close-knit group of friends as they navigate teenage life, explore their individuality, and celebrate their differences. Packed with humor, groovy aesthetics, and heartfelt moments, the series is a nostalgic tribute to the era’s cultural vibrancy.

The Cast

Ronald Raccoon:

A free-spirited teen with a love for adventure and self-expression. Ronald is the son of Rack Raccoon, a retired slapstick cartoon star. While he respects his dad’s legacy, Ronald prefers spending his time exploring music, skateboarding, and hanging out with his eclectic group of friends. His charisma and natural leadership often inspire his pals, even if his impulsiveness sometimes leads them astray.

Rack Raccoon:

Ronald’s dad, Rack, was a legendary slapstick cartoon star from animation’s golden age. Now retired, Rack enjoys telling stories about his old Hollywood days, occasionally demonstrating his over-the-top cartoon antics to help Ronald and his friends solve problems. Despite their generational differences, Rack and Ronald share a strong bond.

Bernie Bear:

A mellow, soulful bear with an African-American accent. Bernie is the group’s voice of wisdom and an aspiring funk musician, often jamming on his bass guitar. He brings a cool, laid-back vibe to the crew, always ready to share life advice or a funky tune.

David Dog:

A lovable, easygoing American Greyhound of Latino descent, David is known for his relaxed personality and sharp mind. Despite his lazy demeanor, he’s an excellent problem-solver with a knack for turning chaos into opportunity. David loves sharing food from his culture with his friends, often introducing them to dishes like tacos, tamales, and churros. His kitchen skills and culinary knowledge make him a cherished member of the group.

Ricardo Rat:

The grumpy but lovable Italian-American rat with a heart of gold. Ricardo is the realist of the group, quick to point out flaws in their plans but always willing to lend a hand. He’s passionate about cooking, especially pizza, and dreams of owning his own pizzeria. Despite his sourpuss attitude, Ricardo’s loyalty to his friends runs deep.

Philip Fox:

The sophisticated British fox with a love for poetry and drama. Philip often adds a theatrical flair to the group’s adventures, narrating events in rhyme or offering dramatic commentary. While his refined demeanor sometimes clashes with the others’ casual attitudes, his poetic insights and wit make him an invaluable friend.

Rita Raccoon:

Ronald’s girlfriend and an independent, outspoken feminist. Rita is a passionate advocate for equality and environmental causes, often organizing community events and protests. She’s not afraid to stand up for what she believes in or call out the boys when they’re being immature. Rita’s fierce determination and clever humor make her an inspiring role model.

The Show’s Style and Themes

With its psychedelic 70s aesthetic, funky music, and warm humor, Ronald Raccoon and Pals blends slapstick comedy with heartfelt storytelling. The show celebrates cultural diversity, individuality, and friendship while addressing timely themes like activism, self-discovery, and community. Episodes often feature a mix of goofy hijinks, meaningful moments, and a touch of nostalgia, making it a perfect blend of humor and heart.

The animation style mirrors the charm of Hanna-Barbera classics with a touch of Schoolhouse Rock!’s vibrant design, while the dialogue reflects the slang and cultural vibes of the 1970s. The series’ mix of timeless themes and retro fun ensures its appeal to audiences of all ages.

[vandaswedenlitblog]

Final Blog: Reflections on a Year of Reading Swedish Literature

I read “Autumn” by Karl Ove Knausgaard, “Hanna’s Daughters” by Marianne Fredriksson, and “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” by Stieg Larsson. 

Based on the fact that in “Autumn” Karl described fields of vegetables. “...bright yellow oilseed rape fields, pale green cornfields…yellow-green pastures, sharp green plots of onions, potatoes, carrots, sugar beet.” Based on this, I learned that Sweden has a lot of land that has farms which means that they also have harvesting seasons. In “Hanna’s Daughters” farms were mentioned frequently in Hanna’s sections of the book. “Distances between houses also grew, as the forest took over the fields and meadows around abandoned farms.” This made me learn even more how important farms are in Sweden. In this book they also mentioned types of trees. “On the shore were willows and birches with their perianths and catkins. Then I saw the maples…” From this, I learned that the trees in Sweden are able to grow very close to their lakes. 

Based on the fact that Karl was passing by an artillery range when taking his kids to school which lead to him finding out that the military were practicing with their weapons in “Autumn”, I learned that even though Sweden has not been in war and usually minds their own business, they still make sure that their military is doing things to ensure the safety of their citizens. In this book as well, Karl mentions how “war has not been waged since the seventeenth century…” which also helped me learn what I stated above. In “Hanna’s Daughters” the Spanish flu was mentioned to have happened in Sweden in 1918. Based on this, I learned that there were a lot of deaths in Sweden around that time of the year. 

Based on the fact that Hanna was making a sponge cake in “Hanna’s Daughters”, I learned that in Sweden they have plenty of bakeries wherever you go. Hanna also worked at a bakery. In “Hanna’s Daughters” they also mentioned how big the lines were at the bakery especially in the morning. People who wanted their “fresh bread for breakfast, newly churned butter, and sometimes small cakes.” They lastly mentioned varieties of seafood from salmon to shrimp. Based on this, I learned that seafood is popular in Sweden. Based on the fact that Karl explained how the churches were abandoned and left empty in the small towns which caused him to say how it symbolized that “no one seeks the divine level of reality any more…” in “Autumn”. From this I learned that churches are barely used in certain parts of Sweden and they are basically there for nostalgic purposes. 

From “Autumn”, I learned that, in life, there is so much more than what the eyes see. Karl’s whole reason for writing that book was so his daughter (who wasn’t born at the time) would be able to learn things about the life she was about to gain when she got older. Each chapter he would explain something or someone he saw and then took it so much deeper just based on that one singular thing/person and from there it would turn into a life lesson. From “Hanna’s Daughters”, I learned that, in life, family is to be cherished. Everything started off with Hanna and then went onto Johanna and then it finished off with Anna (even though the family generations would still continue with Anna’s kids). The generational similarities between the three of them were showcased a lot throughout the whole book to remind the readers that they are family. You would feel like you were with them when each of their stories took place. From “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”, I learned that (even though I didn’t get quite far), in life, success can falter. Blomkvist being someone who was successful in his field and he knew how to write articles incredibly well ended up getting set up and his career being tainted by false accusations but of course, everyone believed he truly did it with no evidence supporting that he didn’t. 

Throughout this journey of reading for 20 weeks, I learned that I am truly capable of getting back into reading. I was a big reader during the pandemic and it carried on into 2021 but ever since then I’ve been in a funk and haven’t read much. I would pick up a book here and there but would soon forget its existence and not end up finishing it. Now, I am confident that I will be picking up those books that were put to the side and actually finishing them. I found that reading actually calms me down and makes me forget about my phone completely which I find to be amazing. I’m grateful that the conclusion of the 20 weeks of reading has led me to this. 

Word Count: 781

[hello-kaneez]

Updates for 2023... so far

Well 2023 was not supposed to be a good year for me and I can attest to it. I have so much anxiety at the moment, I cant even sleep at night even though Hanna has finally STTN. So mentally and physically I am at a 5, sometimes dropping to a 4. Why am I so anxious? There's a thousand and one things running in my head these days. My job/career (or lack of) is like hovering in the air. I thought I was gonna get retrenched but dodged the bullet in Jan but there's another round now, and other job opportunities are drying up in this market. We sold our place (yay!) but this means a mad scramble for another home (which I am praying will not have bad FS direction) and also a ton of other things to plan like reno, childcare etc. H still haven't mention anything about the period where we will be homeless but I am guessing he is banking on staying with his parents (hurray to my mental health).

Happy to say that both kiddos are growing up well. Hyder is already 5 and somehow during this period he has lost all his baby fats and baby voice. Now he sounds like a mini teenager and acts like one. I had such a hard time during this phase that I signed up for parenting classes but I am too tired to listen to it regularly now. Sigh, I like to think it is at least a step in the right direction and it will make me be able to cope with Hanna when she is at that stage.

Hanna is just more of everything compared to Hyder. Her temper, her voice, but also her sweetness. She can be shrieking one moment but later when she cries mama for me, my heart just melts. She blabbers a lot more words at 18 months and is already running, climbing and kicking ass (no just balls :P) I broke so many of my own rules when it comes to her. With Hyder I was adamant about him sleeping in his own cot but guess who is sleeping in between us now. Hyder was on home cooked porridge and food till he was almost 3 but I have already started giving Hanna outside meals with diluted soup. Motherhood is really a learning journey. As time goes I realised they are all growing up and the phases dont last. There will be a last time for everything and I just want to cherish the times with both of them now.

[musicalplumbob]

Hanna didn’t know exactly how to tell Joy, so it came out clunky and all wrong. Joy had always been told that yes, of course she had a birth father somewhere, but that he wasn’t able to be in her life for reasons that were hard for a young child like her to understand. Joy never did quite understand, but she also didn’t know any differently, so she lived life anyway and didn’t think about it much. 

But now, he was here, somehow. And he wanted to meet her and did Joy want to? And Joy did want to, who wouldn’t want to meet family they had only heard about in theory, but it was also scary. “Will you be there when I meet him?” Joy asked meekly. She was used to doing most things alone, but this didn’t seem like one of those things she could do.

“Of course I’ll be there,” Hanna replied immediately, pulling her daughter into a hug. Moments like these between the two of them were so few and far between and though it was definitely a scary thing for the both of them, Hanna found herself cherishing a moment where she could actually be there for her daughter in a way that no one else could.

[abeilleq]

this bit in crooked kingdom will always stand out to me.

"do i have a tell?"

"you square your shoulders before you start a move as if you're about to perform, like your waiting for the audience's attention."

she looked slightly affronted at that. "and what's yours?"

kaz thought of the moment on vellgeluk that had nearly cost him everything.

first off, i love that kaz pays so much attention to inej even when she's not looking, to the extent that he notices tiny details like the movement of her shoulders (which would have happened in battles, where kaz would have undoubtedly been concentrating on his own opponents too!)

second, kaz thinks inej is his tell (which it certainly was in vellgeluk, when rollins saw kaz's concern for inej which led to her kidnapping). but i feel like it goes deeper than that.

we see kaz use love as a tactic all the time. he stakes a hugely important heist purely on matthias' love for nina, he uses it against geels, smeet and his daughter hanna, and, of course, pekka rollins in the end. obviously it is against van eck where he fails, because he overestimates his love for wylan.

partly inspired by this post btw go have a read if you haven't already

what makes this so sad is that kaz just simply cannot believe that a father would discard of his son so hastily. he believes in van eck's love for wylan, even after wylan himself says it isn't relevant.

kaz places a huge importance on familial love despite the cynic in him, which i think is beautiful (and desperately heartwrenching), and i've always wondered how many of his tactics stem from his own yearning and insecurities. kaz seems like the last person who would care about love, but leigh bardugo subtly reveals his dependence (and desire) for closeness through his constant use of it.

and this quote really sums that up. kaz thinks his love for inej is his weakness, his tell, because that's the thing he would exploit in other people. it's what he's been conditioned to believe in, as he's seen the worst of the world and has no reason to believe love exists but yet he does, he relies on it and still places such a huge importance on it despite everything. he's scared of love, scared of the overwhelming impact of it, but he still admires it.

and i think that's why i love the open ending of crooked kingdom, we don't see it but we get hints that kaz will overcome his underlying fear of love through inej. i would like to believe that he comes to think of it as a strength, rather than a weakness. because of inej, he changes his perspective on love as something to be cherished rather than exploited.

[ijzermansdriesen]

❤️

When I read this ...Sander saying this to Hanna, also feels like he is saying it to himself as well about Robbe...now that he's gonna be raising his baby alone...

And then there's Robbe, in the first chapter, within moments of setting his eyes on Amelia goes: “I want to move back in.” ...“...Now I know how I want to be involved. I want to be here. Every day. Living it with you. Being here for both of you. Relieving some of your worries and stress. Taking on some of the responsibilities.”,,,, already a dad.🤍

The selflessness and love that is so inherent to Robbe couldn't have peaked more, he is such a giver<333 and I can't stop thinking how Sander's heart must have been bursting with love in that moment. Robbe is so right for him :') he is even beyond what Sander could think of.

I love your Robbe so much ❤️•́ ‿ ,•̀

This could get long...you have been warned. 😆😍

The one thing that becomes abundantly clear in my fics (and on my tumblr) is that I LOVE Robbe. He is by far my favorite character in all of Skam, and there's a reason for that. I am drawn to a very specific type of person. My family jokingly calls it "the boy scout," but essentially I find kindness and goodness attractive. There's a reason Captain America is my favorite Avenger and that I cried when Sam "I'm the most amazingly, wholesome, good person on the planet" Wilson became the new Cap. (Seriously, ugly crying, I love Sam Wilson.) I adore Peeta. He was my favorite character from day one, and when that goodness was destroyed in Mockingjay, I cried angry tears. She ruined the most loyal, honest character ever. Alec in The Shadowhunter Chronicles--his defining characteristic is that he's a protector, fiercely loyal. He didn't kill a demon until he was 19 bc he was out there defending Jace and Isabelle instead. Sure, he can be a sassy ass, but goodness literally pours out of him. Any time Magnus describes him, it's like he can't comprehend how honest and wholesome he is. It's literally what attracts him at first--shock at this enigma of a Shadowhunter. I could go on, but I'm sure you get the point.

Back to Robbe, so canon Robbe is like this for me. He never spoke ill about his mother or MI. All he did was love and support her. He never pretended to like Jana, and he immediately felt guilty for messing things up for Jens. He suffered a shit ton more homophobia during season 1 and 3 than the other Isaks, which is why his internalized homophobia was so deeply rooted (and why he did make a few bad choices - faking it with Noor, the slur). He actually liked Noor--as a friend, and that's why he tried so hard to make it work, and why they stayed friends afterward. And here's the big one for me, he BROKE UP with her before pursuing Sander. Sure, the pool kiss happened first, but it wasn't planned. He did not purposefully cheat. He manned up and didn't ghost her. For me, that was HUGE. And then we get to Sander. He biked around in the cold for over an hour, only to be pushed away. He broke up with Sander, not bc he was afraid of his MI, but bc he was told it was better for him, that he needed to stay away. Admittedly, his fear, shock, and misinformation led to illogical thinking, resulting in breaking up with Sander over text, and who would have thought Moyo would be the one to clear that up (whoo!). But the second he realized he was wrong, that he'd made a mistake based on incorrect info, he fixed it. He reached out. He called. He texted. He went to visit him. He didn't wait for Sander to need him, to reach out to him. He was actively pursuing him, all while thinking it was over bc he screwed up. All of this is what makes Robbe so special to me. He isn't perfect, but he always acts with a kind heart. None of this has been negated or challenged in later seasons. His fierce, loyal devotion to Sander is all over insta, and he literally glows with pride.

Now to my Robbe in "I Want it All," he's not perfect by any means, not like the Robbe in "Color of Love." I think that one was a little too one-dimensional, mainly because it was all seen through Sander's rose colored glasses. "I Want it All" was actually difficult at first because I usually write from Sander's POV, and it started with Robbe. I find it much easier to think like Sander and just gush about him. Having to be in Robbe's head made things more challenging, but what I've found as the story has progressed, is that Robbe's amazingness is still obvious, BUT we can see that he's flawed. He's (unintentionally) been awful to Sander. Many times. He allowed the Broerrrs to affect their relationship; he was a total ass after the kiss; and he completely ignored his own physical and emotional reactions to Sander, immediately followed by flaunting a completely inappropriate and awful boyfriend in his face, however unconsciously. I'm personally convinced, and since it's my story, I can state it as fact, I guess, that Robbe's jealousy chose Carlos to purposefully punish Sander for proposing to Hanna. It was a rebound, just not in the traditional sense. Granted, he's completely unaware of all this.

Somehow he's still the most caring, supportive, loving friend. One of my personal favorite moments is when he's taking care of Sander during the pregnancy. That's such a selfless, loving thing to do, and he's doing it by choice, not because anyone asked. He recognized that Sander was struggling to balance everything, and he stepped in. To me, that's love. It's unconditional, and that's what drives Robbe. He loves Sander unconditionally, and it's completely unrelated to romance. Even before he realized he was in love with him, he always gave Sander what he needed--a partner to raise his daughter with, companionship, laughter, help around the house, little presents that represent how important Sander is to him, etc. Apart from recognizing the meaning of his and Sander's feelings, he's completely in tune with him and always has been. We're not there yet, but imagine how heartbroken and utterly awful Robbe will feel when he realizes just how long Sander has been waiting for him. We got a glimpse of it in ch. 5, but our poor boy is going to judge himself rather harshly.

The dynamic is so different between them because Robbe is oblivious to his feelings, and Sander is not. What Robbe does and how he acts is completely out of love, no strings attached. He has no ulterior motive. That's what makes him so kind and sweet. Sander's actions, at least in this last part, are always tainted by his unrequited love for Robbe. He loves him. Always, but his disappointment and frustration get in the way. His choices and actions take that unrequited love into consideration, and because of where they are in their lives and the miscommunication, he actually acts against his own interests and feelings to try and protect himself. It's a very interesting distinction when you think that the one who is romantically in love with the other is the one in a serious relationship with someone else while the oblivious one hasn't really dated and only got a boyfriend after the proposal. Ouch. I'm not attacking Sander here at all because I love him too, and it's my fault he did all this; but my clear, obvious preference and love for Robbe and his absolute kindness and goodness, really shines through here.

Anyway, this really was long, but I do love Robbe. He is my favorite, and chances are any future fics will continue to make that obvious.

[wildeycs]

he never stopped talking, it was strange as he first seemed so reserved. yet there he was, with this annoying sparkle in his eyes when he talked about preparing dishes. hanna learned how to cook but it wasn't a passion of her and surely nothing she could afford for the longest time. the ramyun life-style wasn't a choice but a one way road for people like her. yet, she sat in his fancy café watching him ramble about it, as his life dream had come true. how did she ever believe they were alike? it was an emotional night when she first saw him, maybe just an imagination in her mind when she felt as there was nobody that could possibly ever match with her. she still believed that it was a horrible decision, it was cruel because she risked to get him involved.

was it cruel to put his life at risk or could it be excused with her longing to be held and cherished. she had come here looking for distraction but over the past few weeks, he suddenly decided to be sweet and charming. wait, why did she believe he was interested?! there wasn't really any final announcement, just small hints she feared to read wrongly. a proper girl would have maybe asked, hinted, blushed. yoon hanna instead leaned in, out of the blue, in the middle of the day, in a café full of guests and kissed him. the kiss would serve both at once, a question and an answer: did you think of me just as a friend, were all those smiles and compliment just good manners or hey, do you like this, should we continue?! / @dualcolor​

joonho doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he feels the familiar feeling growing in his chest. he doesn’t know what it is about the girl with the fiery eyes and cunning tongue, but he has been enjoying her company for the past weeks. he used to just view her as another customer whose usual order he memorised, but their conversations keep getting longer and it is obvious to anyone but himself that his interests are growing and they are not only platonic. despite her fast-paced speech and impulses, she seems content with listening to his rambles about the things he loves, even when they involve technicalities that most people won’t remember a thing about after the conversation is over. he remembered talking about the art of making a fine cup of roasted coffee when she leaned close. her lips touch his and his eyes widen in unfiltered surprise. he blinks, his body frozen but he accepts the kiss instinctively, his hand meeting her cheek in a gentle touch. when it’s over, he leans back and stares. “i — ” his fingers touch his mouth and he swallows nervously. “ — you like me?”

[adultswim2021]

Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law #31: “Identity Theft” | October 23, 2005 – 11:45PM | S03E12

Why didn't the deadly duplicator make a Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman reference? I was bracing myself for it! Come on!

In this episode, Lewis Black returns as the deadly duplicator, though on DVD this is his debut, which makes slightly more sense. In this episode he works at a xerox place and is somehow duplicating not pages, but PEOPLE! doubles, triples, and EVEN MORE of Birdman keep showing up, as well as dupes of just about anyone else who happens to wander on screen. It's just such a fucking mess. Way too much. Does it make for a good episode? Well, yeah this one is alright.

This one also has a trial: it has to do with various Shaggy clones that littered Hanna Barbera's roster of Scooby-Doo-esque shows. They are suing each other for identify theft.

Now, I didn't laugh. Of course. But: I did one of those Robert De Niro grimaces as if to say "not bad!" Because there are some pretty fun visuals in this one. I REALLY admired the gag where towards the end they just kind of unceremoniously dispose of the copies of each person, all of whom we've firmly lost sight of who the original is. What is this, Ricky Morty??

MAIL BAG:

Referencing yesterday’s MAIL BAGS

If I remember correctly the version of the mouse and the mask that had zorak at the beginning was sampling him from that one episode of the brak show that was bad and stupid with the rapping so him being cut out may have had something to do with that? I don’t know I’m just recalling my memories from when I was 15 and autistic. I also remember you talking about that episode on the older version of this blog because I also read that when I was 15, and autistic

I did not ever investigate the music shit Adult Swim did, ever. The only songs I like are the ones that play in movies but aren’t on the soundtrack album. I buy every soundtrack album just so I can pick out the songs that aren’t on them and make it my business to like those songs!

Welcome to the fold Squidbillies. Honestly, it's a pretty cool show but starts out rough. If you haven't kept up with it I think you will be surprised. Right when Aqua Teen was kind of wrapping up I think it really started to hit off.

I think I weirdly watched all of season 3 but very little of the other seasons. I’m not sure that’s right, but it’s a vibe. That’s a thing kids say now. “It’s a vibe.” I don’t even know what it means. I don’t even GET IT.

KON WRITES:

I remember Squidbillies first being announced when AS was like, still brand new. Based on what I've read, I think Squids was originally going to be a shared creation of the Williams Street staff, but it went nowhere until Dave Willsmith took over and made it his own vision. The pilot ep kinda has that feeling of a troubled production, like they were trying to get SOMETHING down on paper that could kinda work. Not a great pilot, but will it make a great show? (No)

I do not remember that! But, I trust you and appreciate you and cherish you, my friend.

[domesticblisss]

Näher | Pt.05

Walter x Female Reader, Timothy Thatcher x Female Reader (Nicknamed ‘Hase’) Mob AU! Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1396 Warnings: Smut. Rough fucking, oral (female receiving), PiV, cum play. Summary: Walter has a surprise. Pt.01 | Pt.02 | Pt.03 | Pt.04

I swear I was joking when I told Walter I wanted to fuck Tim.

Don’t get me wrong, Tim is beautiful. He’s the sweetest guy I ever met but we never got deep into any conversation. He was quiet, only speaking when spoken to or if completely necessary. I always felt Walter get a little bit more defensive when it came to me interacting with Tim, maybe because Tim was the closest to him on a personal level. Walter still has some trouble opening up to me with certain subjects, so I still don’t know to what extent the guys are actually close other than what they show me on a daily basis. But for some reason, I get the feeling that Walter and Tim consider themselves as brothers. So, the little Devil that lives on my right shoulder told me to start teasing him.

It was on an extremely boring, hot Thursday summer afternoon when I first came up to Tim. Walter was on his study on a business call, all the other guys were out, except Tim. He sat on the main living room with one of his trusty books when I sat beside him.

“Do you need anything, Doll?” he said while scanning his book.

“I told Walter I was going to fuck you.”

“Excuse me?!” he closed his book and turned his attention to me.

“He was being an asshole, so I wanted to rile him up.”

“Fine, what’s your plan?”

I told him and we got to it. We went to the guest bedroom near Walter’s study, turned the loudest porn we could find on the room’s Bluetooth system and sat on the bed with our respective books, a few “Fuck Tim, don’t stop” were thrown in there for reality.

Walter came barging in five minutes later, face red as beet, angriest look in his eyes I had ever seen. If he was a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, smoke would be getting out from his ears. It took him a few seconds to understand what was going on, just us, sitting fully clothed on bed, books in hand and laughing at him. He left the room without saying anything.

Later that night when we went to bed, I asked him why he looked so angry. His answer was simple, he thought it was Marcel bringing some bimbo home during work hours, again, when he constantly told him not to, especially when he knew he would be in an important call. I apologised for disturbing him and he said it was fine, that I can do anything I want, whenever I want and that his offer still stands. His offer.

I swear I was joking when I told Walter I wanted to fuck Tim.

Things got different between me and Tim after that day.  We would talk more, leading to inside jokes, lingering touches on the small of my back whenever he would walk past me in a tight space.

I swear I was joking when I told Walter I wanted to fuck Tim.

One day, we just gave in to the feeling. We kept sneaking around everyone.

The furthest room of Walter’s place? Fucking spot.

The old storage on their main office? Fucking spot.

The staff bathroom at the club? Fucking spot. Funny how no one never caught us.

Today we are alone at Walter’s place. All the guys went to Austria to get some business done and Walter thought it would be better for Tim to stay here to keep me company. Right now Tim is pressing me on Walter’s and I bedroom door. He’s so rough, angry even, pulling my hair so he can expose my neck, biting me down. My nipples are hard from his stimulations, and he makes sure to keep pinching it. Our clothes were lost a long time ago and I can feel his hard on pressing on the curve of my ass.

Tim is not the kind of guy that talks while fucking and I appreciate that. He takes me to the bed, lies me in the middle of it, brings my hips to the edge and starts to eat me out, one hand on my waist and the other one he keeps working on his hard on. My hands go straight to his hair to press him harder against me, just like I know he likes when he is eating me out. He only stops after I cum and he can feel the second one coming.

Walter arrives just when Tim starts to kiss me. He enters the room nonchalantly, brings his chair closer to the bed and sits down, crossing his right leg on top of the right one.

“Go on.”

“I thought you we–“ he cuts me before I can finish.

“Well, things went faster and better than expected. Now, c’mon. Go on. Fuck her, Timothy.”

Timothy. I know that tone.

Tim manhandles me. Gets me on my knees and pounds me from behind, in a position he knows Walter can get a good look at us. He keeps biting me from my neck to my shoulder, his hips never failing. It’s fast paced and hard, the tip of his cock brushing on the right spot every time. It wasn’t long before I came again and Walter’s voice came in looming.

“Keep going until you cum inside her.”

So, Tim did. The thing is Tim has the stamina of a racehorse. I lost count on how many times I came after that second one, all I know is that I couldn’t stand anymore, my knees buckled, and Tim embraced the opportunity to press my face down the mattress. The only sounds in the room were my muffled moans, Tim’s grunts and our skins against one another.

Tim’s thrusts started to get sloppier, a sign that he was close to his own high. Walter noticed.

“Hase, look at me.”

I didn’t have the strength to get my head up, Tim grabbed me by my hair and steadied my head.

“There you go! Keep your eyes open.”

Tim and I came together in a matter of seconds, his knees failing him this time and falling down on top me. We stayed like that for a while, Walter silent, just looking at us. A few moments later, Tim got off me and adjusted our bodies next to each other by the pillows.

Walter got up from his chair and made his way to us. He started kissing my thighs, millimetre by millimetre, until he reached my core and took his time cleaning me from mine and Tim’s juices combined. When he finished, he made his way up my body and kissed me with all his power. I looked to my side and saw Tim looking at us, with the slyest smile on his lips. Something in his expression told me that was not the first time they did that.

“Isn’t our little hure the best, Timothy?”

“She really is.”

“Maybe I should get another one of the guys to fuck her. Maybe it’s Fabian’s turn.”

“Don’t bring Fabian near her.” Tim’s tone of voice was completely different from I have ever heard from him.

“Why not Fabian?” I inquired him.

“Don’t get Fabian next to her.” With that he grabbed his clothes and left.

“Am I missing something here or?”

“Tim and Fabian walk on thin ice towards each other. Tim had to leave our… group for a while and when he got back Fabian was here. He thinks we got him a substitute so that’s why he got defensive like this.” Walter explained.

“Oh.” I kissed him again, this time softer, just to cherish his presence. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, liebe. So, for how long?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Tim, how long has it been going on?”

I stared at him and he noticed my fidgeting.

“You know it’s fine, what have I told you before?”

“Two months.” I whispered, feeling guilty.

“Hey, no need to be like this. I just wished you would have told me. I would have joined you two.”

“Joined us?”

“Yes, fuck you while he fucks you.”

“Oh…” can’t deny how much that thought turned me on.

“Yes. But right now, do you think you got another one in you?”

I eagerly nodded my head yes and brought his lips back to mine.

→

[themangolorian]

Both Hunter and Prey (Pt. 2)

Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Epilogue

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: A game of cat and mouse between you and the Mandalorian.

A/N: Part 2 of 5. You find the Mandalorian again, but this time, things have changed. He’s wanted now too. The stakes are suddenly that much higher.

Warnings: Some smut, sexual content, dry humping, vaginal fingering, extreme sexual frustration, overall touching, language.

You awoke warm and drowsy and could feel the earth moving beneath you. You scrambled to figure out where you were and what was happening. You felt impeded, trapped, something tight around your shoulders and panic ensued and you struggled.

The Mandalorian removed his cloak from over your face to look down at you. Above him, you could see flurries of snow in the sky speeding past, but it was you that was moving.

“You’re alright.” He promised, and you hated that you believed him.

His arms had been gripping you tightly, but he relinquished his grip and let you sit up straight and away from him, though his cloak, now dry and warm again, remained wrapped around you. You blinked at a humanoid watching what transpired between you two.

“Search and rescue team.” The Mandalorian provided, in a clipped tone. “Apparently it’s common for others to...get lost around here in the storms.”

You smiled up at him finally. A lie. You’d recklessly and unnecessarily led him on a chase through the terrain of what you knew to be an unpredictable planet.

A dangerous thought crossed your mind then. Why did he put up with you? You’d heard his body count was through the roof. One blaster shot, and you’d no longer be his problem. You’d been staring up at him, lost in thought.

A gloved finger at your jaw caught your attention. You evaded his grip with a cheeky grin and huddled away from him beneath his cloak. You felt his gaze from beneath the dark visor, but he said nothing.

Upon your arrival to the hangar, you were, quite against your will, taken by a group of fussy nurse droids to a medical chamber. You glared at the Mandalorian accusingly as they led you again; he’d done nothing to stop them. So much for distrusting droids. You knew he’d be gone by the time you got back. That was a part of the game.

The droids immediately injected you with a warmth serum then left you buried under a pile of a combination of aluminum and cloth blankets. The serum worked its way through you quickly and, as you elbowed your way out of the blankets, you felt yourself quickly becoming almost too warm. You managed to slip out a door marked Med Personnel Only and back to your ship. The spot where the Razor Crest had been was overwhelmingly empty now. You huffed and stalked into your ship, the last vestiges of chill finally leaving your body.

You were not surprised to see that things were not as you had left them. You rummaged through your pack and breathed a sigh of relief to find your data pack. So he had only been looking for the rifle. Everything else seemed to be there, if not in their usual place. There was only one other thing you cared to check, but you knew it was in no danger of being taken. You lifted your sleep cot and pried open the hidden metallic lid of the secret compartment below. The air left your body as if you’d taken a blow to the stomach. It was gone. The one and only thing you had left from your childhood, a relic from your mother. Somehow he’d found it and, worse, he’d taken it.

Normally, you’d feel relief that he too wanted to keep up the chase. Normally you’d be looking forward with anticipation to your next charged meeting with the Mandalorian. Now, you were livid.

It took you several long rotations to find him this time, almost as if he didn’t want to be found. The thought stung for a moment, but like everything else meaningful you chose to ignore it. And you were desperate to get your mother’s necklace back. You supposed you deserved it considering the first thing you ever took from him was the signet of his people. But double standards aside, you couldn’t help but simmer. Why, out of everything he could have taken, did he take that? And how had he even found it?

You landed in Calna Muun, the capital city of the planet Agamar. The Razor Crest sat in a dock three ships down; you studied it through your viewport. It had taken some hits since you last saw him. Quite a few if your memory of the hull held. There was so much carbon scoring surrounding the craft, it looked nearly as if he’d been in battle.

Worry you’d never asked for built in your chest as you wondered what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into and whether he was alright. Now you seethed at yourself. You liked the Mandalorian chasing you, yes, and you liked him on top of you even more, but that was all. You refused to worry about his well-being otherwise. But, contrary to your thoughts, your traitor legs took you out of the cockpit faster than you meant to. You slung your travel pack over your shoulder. You’d never leave your most cherished items unprotected in your ship again.

As you strode out of the hangar, eyes peeled for the familiar rusty beskar, your heart began to beat faster and your stomach fluttered. It had been awhile now since you’d last seen him. You were impatient to see him again and nervous, but you couldn’t say why. As of late, your thoughts had gone to him more and more, unbidden. Even your dreams betrayed you. You tried to convince yourself it was only his body above or below yours that you missed. But you were starting to get worried that it was more. Which was why you planned to end the chase here on Agamar. You’d get him to fuck you once and for all; you’d get your necklace back and then you would be on your way. You didn’t even plan to steal from him again.

You’d been in Calna Muun once before, and you decided to start your search for the Mandalorian at a cantina you’d frequented then. If he wasn’t there, surely anyone who’d seen the hunter would be talking about him. You rounded a corner into a deserted alley, intent on taking a shortcut.

It was then you saw the shadow, long and lean, fall beside yours as you walked. Your hand fell to your blaster; you’d been followed. Your mind solely on the Mandalorian, you had let your guard down. You turned swiftly, hoping against all hope it was him. Of course it wasn’t.

Two more figures joined the one whose shadow you’d seen, each face more familiar than the last. All held tracking signals in their hands.

“You’re a hard one to track.” The Twi’lek, Ker Hana, sauntered your way as he spoke. “We had to join forces just to get you in one place.”

The human, Doln, was another bounty hunter you’d outrunned on more than one occasion. That wasn’t hard though; he was the most half-witted being around. The Rodian you knew only by reputation, and his reputation spoke for itself. With three of them surrounding you in a secluded alley, there was nowhere for you to go. You were going to have to fight your way out of this one, and fighting wasn’t exactly your forte.

You smiled, hoping your fear wasn’t obvious in the lines of your face. “No need to follow little old me all the way out here just to get me alone.”

Your eyes tracked the walls of the alley and the entryway behind them.

“There’s nowhere to run, little one,” Ker Hanna threatened as he approached you.

But he was wrong. You turned swiftly on your heel and began to sprint up the alley. When one of the three behind you merely laughed, your heart sank. They knew something you didn’t. Sure enough, just as you began to round the next corner, you ran right into the square chest of the bounty hunter Slorn. Human but built like a Wookie.

“No.” You struggled but it was no use. This one could probably lift a speeder. Grip achingly tight around your arms, he carried you back into the alleyway and dumped you unceremoniously onto the ground. All four surrounded you now. You moved to grab your blaster but the Rodian kicked it from your grip, pain sparking in your fingers.

“A four way?” You teased finally, not letting them see just how terrified you were. “Kinky but I’ll take it.”

Doln kicked you hard in the ribs. You couldn’t help the yelp of pain that came out of you then.

Ker Hanna dropped to a squat in front of you. He took your face in his left hand, holding you tight as you tried to escape his grip. “Lucky for you, they want you alive. But they didn’t say we couldn’t mess you up a bit.”

You glared up at him and just as he was taking his hand away, you bit him. Hard. He screamed in pain now, then punched you hard in the jaw with his other hand. You fell slackly to the side.

“It really took four of you brainless kungs to find me?” You dared.

Then they were on you and their hits and kicks against you blotted out the noises of your cries of pain, when suddenly-

Slorn, who’d just been about to club you with the end of his blaster, fell to the ground with a scream of both pain and surprise. Blaster fire filled the air. Doln fell to the floor beside you but didn’t move again. You scrambled away toward the wall. The Rodian had the same idea but was shot as he was tripping over you. You were sure he wasn’t dead though.

Ker Hanna, the smartest of the bunch, managed to get around the corner before getting hit. You saw him aiming shots behind you at whoever your savior was.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Ker Hanna gasped. “The very Mandalorian we were looking for.” Ker Hanna ducked behind the wall when another blaster shot traveled his way.

You held your breath. It wasn’t possible. You rolled onto your stomach where you lay on the ground to see him. Slorn had recovered and was now fighting fist to fist with the Mandalorian. You flinched when Slorn slugged him directly in the stomach.

Breathing heavily, you scrambled for shelter between the wooden crates lining the alleyway.

“What is a wanted Mandalorian doing traversing with a low level thief?” You heard Ker Hanna shout across the way. Wanted? Ker Hanna aimed blaster fire at the Mandalorian who was busy getting slammed onto the ground by Slorn. Had he not charged his vambraces? Why wasn’t he using them?

Luckily, the beskar took the blaster shots from Ker Hanna, who wasn’t letting up. You had to help. Before they hurt him. Or worse.

You groaned. Where was your blaster? There. Not three feet from where you hid. You sprung out of your hiding spot, landing nearly flat on your face, but then the blaster was in your hand and-

“Not so fast, little one,” Ker Hanna was saying and before you could pull your trigger he was shooting his blaster at you. Then-

The Mandalorian grabbed you unceremoniously by the scruff of your tunic and tossed you away and toward the crates as if you weighed little more than a camtono. You cried out, thinking Ker Hanna’s blaster had done the job, but the Mandlorian’s beskar took the shots that would have ended your life. Then the Mandalorian aimed the end of his vambrace at Ker Hanna who retreated just as the fire reached him. The coward Twi’lek was fleeing.

Suddenly, Slorn was kicking you from behind. The Mandalorian heard your cry of pain and turned in a blur. The stream of fire stopped, and he was raising his arms to take Slorn’s next hit. But you hadn’t dropped your blaster. Your shot hit Slorn in the knee. Taking advantage of the split second you’d provided, the Mandalorian slung his rifle from around his shoulder and electro shocked Slorn. The blast carried him across the alley where he fell into a metal crate. His body lay slack in the dent he made.

You fought to catch your breath, and your eyes found the visor of the Mandalorian from the ground. He stared at you for a second. Then he was charging towards you and sweeping you off the ground.

“Are you alright?” His voice was shaky with urgency. He inspected your face intensely running his fingers lightly over your aching jaw. You stared dumbstruck at his visor as he questioned your well-being when he’d been the one hit with no less than twenty blaster shots. He was running his fingers up and down your arms, over your torso, searching desperately. His touch was more gentle than ever. “Are you alright?” He asked again, more persistent this time when you didn’t answer. His gloved hands cupped your face shakily as he studied you closely.

At that moment, everything came together. He’d saved you. He’d protected you. Now he was worried about you. Unimaginable warmth pooled your insides spreading out to all the parts of your body.

You pushed him away as roughly as you could, which wasn’t saying much, but he hadn’t been expecting it and took a step back to steady himself. His visor studied you as he went still.

“I didn’t need your help.” You pushed him again, this time he barely moved. You assaulted him now with your hands, forgetting quite intentionally just how scared you had been not one minute before at what you thought had been his impending death at the hands of your hunters. “You always have to be a hero, don’t you, Mandalorian?” You snarled.

You knew you looked completely crazy. Pushing and shoving at, for all intents and purposes, your savior. You could explain why, but you didn’t want to explore that part of your psyche under any circumstances. His intervention in your capture had nearly resulted in his death. For you. A thief. A low level thief, as Ker Hanna had so eloquently put it. And he’d risked his entire well-being...for you? Just moments ago, it had been only time and distance, the shortest measures of them, that had saved his life. One blaster shot too far to the left, one second too early or too late, and he’d have been dead. You shoved against his chest again. “Why?”

His resulting silence was deafening and overwhelming all at once, his immobility striking. He let you continue your assault only for a few short moments, then he was growling and pushing you against the wall.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? They had you four to one. They were going to beat you to an inch of your life then take you in.” That was more than you’d ever heard his modulated voice say at one time.

“I would have gotten away.” You breathed heavily, unable to move. He had you pinned against the wall hard. You were both breathing against each other raggedly. “I always do.” You could feel his hard body, not covered by the beskar, pressing into you. He looked down past your face at the rest of you as your bodies melded together.

Simultaneously and suddenly, you both began to touch each other desperately. This time not for fighting. Your hands found purchase in the clothes he wore beneath what looked like brand new, shiny beskar. You squeezed all the warm parts of his body you could find.

His hands traveled your body with urgency. Cradling you. Caressing you. His hands finally found your ass, squeezing one cheek and then the other, his fingers dangerously close to your center. You could feel his erection then against your middle and you moaned. The noises coming from beneath the helmet told you that he needed you as desperately as you needed him. Then he was dragging you back down the alley towards the hangar, one hand squeezing your waist where he held you.

Faintly, you thought you heard Slorn stir in the alley before you two were away. You were breathing heavily now for another reason, your hand resting on the Mandalorian’s middle, just above his belt. He walked you towards his ship with a pace you had to struggle to keep up with, but he was half-carrying you, so intense was his need.

As you entered the hangar, you saw Ker Hanna’s telltale ship blasting out into the atmosphere. He would be after you again, and soon. But you couldn’t find a way to care, as the Mandalorian’s other hand had found your breast and was tweaking your nipple, pebble hard beneath your tunic. The few travelers in the hangar averted their eyes as you passed them, either scared of the Mandalorian or uncomfortable at the scene. Then, finally you were at the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian struggled to push the button on his vambrace that would open the ramp to his ship.

You were groping at his bulge, trying to get his pants open before the two of you even got on the ship.

You groaned in frustration. “Which button-” You were both so out of breath.

“Green. Triangle.” he uttered roughly, tightening his hold on your ass. You abandoned your grip on his cock and with shaking fingers tried to push the button he’d indicated. The ramp swept down with a hiss and he had to yank you backwards so it wouldn’t flatten you, but you barely noticed. Your hands were roaming his body wildly again, and at the same time he was backing you roughly up the ramp. He groaned hoarsely when you squeezed his arousal.

Inside, he pushed you roughly against the wall to free his arm to close the ramp back up, but soon he was on you again, trailing his hands up and down your back, squeezing your bottom, grinding against you so aggressively you knew his brand new beskar would leave bruises everywhere he pushed against you.

You saw the sleep cot laid out behind him and meant to push him backwards. He barely moved half a step before he was assaulting your body again with his hands. Using the wall as leverage and the weight of your entire body, you pushed him backwards again. This time, understanding your intent, he staggered backwards and fell onto the cot, taking you with him. You straddled him, trying to catch your breath. His hands struggled with the clasp on your pants while you struggled with his belt. But you needed the friction not to stop. You grinded your pelvis hard against his, and he moaned loudly as if in pain, throwing himself back on the cot, letting you work yourself further up against him.

Suddenly you couldn’t move, you were frozen completely. Your dumbstruck gaze managed to meet his visor before you were being thrown violently backwards against the wall. You crumpled to the ground, raising your arms in defense against an enemy you couldn’t see as you began to impossibly hover off the ground again.

The Mandalorian, still strewn backwards on the cot, had taken a beat too long to gather his senses.

“No!” He shouted roughly, his voice still laced with unrestrained lust.

Bewildered, you raised your hands in defeat, not knowing why he was yelling at you as you hovered shakily above the ground. You were terrified

“No, she wasn’t hurting me!” You watched as the Mandalorian stumbled clumsily over to a tiny green form you hadn’t seen before. The baby- A baby? Had both hands raised in your direction, eyes closed in concentration. When the Mandalorian gently scooped the form up, you crumpled heavily to the ground again. You watched through your now tousled hair as the Mandalorian, in the softest, gentlest tone you’d ever heard him use, scolded what you could only describe as his kid.

You sat up shakily, the pain of being tossed across an alley and a spaceship in the span of an hour just now setting in.

The Mandalorian turned toward you. In his hesitation, you saw him struggling with whether he should tend to you, injured as you were, or the child, clearly his main priority.

“I’m fine, Mandalorian,” you managed through your shortness of breath.

Satisfied, he turned and ascended the ladder with the child cradled in one arm.

You sat straight up against the wall and rested your head between your knees. Were you hallucinating? What had just happened? You began to giggle then laugh outright, but you stifled the noises, not wanting to disturb whatever...parenting was going on above.

You used your tunic to wipe the sweat from your brow and arms. Frustrated sexually yet again. This time by gravity itself. You should just take care of the ache yourself at this point. And you seriously considered wanking yourself off, thinking of how satisfying it would be for the Mandalorian to find you that way. But the clanking of his boots on the ladder tore you from your stupor.

“You alright?” He asked in a rough, yet now subdued voice.

“Yeah, all good.” You coughed out, smiling in spite of yourself and the mess that you were on the floor of his vintage spaceship. You reached an arm out, and he took it, effortlessly pulling you to your feet. To your own chagrin, you faltered on one foot and he caught you under the elbows. Pleased, you began caressing the parts of his arms not covered in beskar.

Your thoughts had been solely on picking up where you’d left off, but the Mandalorian clearly had other ideas. He stopped your hands and cradled your face in his hands as gently as he’d cradled the child, the tenderness of his touch this time unexpectedly making your throat close up. You hadn’t cried or even nearly cried in years now.

“I’m fine,” you croaked, but he ignored you. He seemed to be studying your pupils. Satisfied, he turned you around and inspected the back of your head, lifted your tunic and ran his fingers up and down your skin, prodding and pushing, looking for injuries. No doubt he was making up for trying to fuck you before ensuring no lasting injury had been done to you in the alley. Utterly flustered and tongue-tied, you quietly let him.

His touches were usually blazing, leaving fire on your skin in their wake. No one had ever touched you like that before, which was why you craved it so. With such intensity and passion. But this- this was different. You were sure no one had ever touched you like this before either, but the touches themselves brought you to an absolute standstill. You had to fight to keep tears from your eyes, to keep yourself from turning and flinging yourself into his embrace. What was this kriffing bounty hunter doing to you?

He turned you again and paused when you avoided looking at his visor. He brought his glove beneath your chin until you were looking up at him. You gave a watery smile. He tilted his head inquisitively at you but said nothing.

“Didn’t take you for a daddy.” You teased, finally satisfied that your face and voice had gone back to normal from whatever confounding spell he’d briefly put on you.

He just grunted. His hand still held your face softly and his thumb rubbed just below your cut lip.

You liked this tender, caring Mandalorian far, far too much and it was making you feel things you simply didn’t want to feel, for the sake of your sanity. So you said the first thing you could think of that might set him off again.

“Maybe he’s what I’ll take from you next,” you lilted, expecting a glare you wouldn’t be able to see. Instead, a pause, then -

His other hand shot out and took you by the throat, pinning you against the ship’s wall again for the second time in minutes. Like father like son, you supposed. Your feet lifted briefly from the ground and you choked for air, grasping at his fingers, seeing bright spots at the edge of your vision.

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” He tightened his grip.

Tears of pain in your eyes this time, and you managed to choke out a, “Just. Kidding.”

He released you and you began to crumple again, but he caught you. His hands weren’t nearly so caring and tender now, and that suited you perfectly. You leaned against him, coughing. He seemed almost remorseful, his hands on your back now.

“Don’t joke about the kid like that.” One final rough warning.

“Ok,” you gasped, your hands bunching in the fabric on his chest, as he steadied you further. “Won’t.” Your hands trailed down his arms and around to grasp his hands and bring them to your chest.

You caught your breath finally, then looked up with a grin, your eyes still watery.

“Do that again.” You brought his hands back up to your neck. “Daddy.” He looked at you in what could only be shock.

But you seemed to have broken something in him once again. He gripped you around the neck again, nowhere near as tightly as before, but he pushed you roughly against the wall.

“Harder,” you urged. He hesitated but squeezed tighter, not enough to your satisfaction, but you weren’t trying to scare him away. He groaned then, bringing a wicked smile to your lips. He liked it too.

He brought his left hand up to your lips, pushing one finger through. You sucked the dusty rough leather of the glove. Then he was gliding that hand down to find the wetness under your waistband until- He stopped and you groaned, but he tightened his grip on your throat to shut you up.

“No,” he said, sliding his hand back out of your pants. He brought the glove back to your mouth, and you opened your lips to wet the finger further. But he swatted at your tongue, surprising you. “Teeth,” he muttered. And you understood. You looked at his helmet, wanting to question, but an order was an order. You gripped the leather between your teeth and he yanked his hand out.

Your mouth fell open as you studied his perfect, scarred, blistered hand. He started to lower his hand again, but you stopped him this time. He grunted. A question. Urgently, you took his hand with yours and led it to your mouth. His hips bucked in surprise and he rasped a noise out when you took two, then three of his fingers into your mouth and sucked. Warm. He was so warm. Sturdy. Rough. Beautiful. You grew wetter at the thought.

He pulled his fingers out and caressed your face shortly, leaving wetness on you face, before plunging his hand finally down to your center.

His wet warm fingers found your clit, and you cried out at the sensation. His grip on your throat, which had been loosening over the last couple minutes, grew tight again, silencing you. You urged him to move his hand from your throat to your mouth and he did, muffling your whimpers and cries as he brought you finally closer to release.

You stood on your toes, trying to urge him to enter you with those long warm fingers. He circled your clit once more then traced your lips down. His middle finger entered you first, and you screamed into his palm. He jolted your head back, reminding you to keep quiet. You didn’t care. All you could feel was him pumping his finger in and out of you. You tried to move your hips, get him deeper, but he was too tall. He leaned down, releasing your mouth and slowly a second finger joined the first.

He quickened his pace, then brought his thumb back to your sensitive nub. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting your spot just perfectly. You began to seize up. He continued pumping his curled fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing precise circles on your clit.

He leaned his helmet down against your forehead, and you could hear his labored breathing. You searched the mask of his helmet desperately for where you thought his eyes might be. You could feel them watching you intently; his movements were dazed and uneven.

“Come for me.” He ordered in his no-nonsense gravelly tone.

And an order was an order. You complied, your entire body trembling with your release, your mouth opening to let out a wild cry of deliverance, but he was ready. He covered your mouth fully with his gloved hand. His fingers inside of you continued pumping, helping you ride out your peak. You collapsed against him, trembling, not caring this was the weakest you’d ever been in the presence of another. He caught you with one arm, then removed his other from your pants. You cried out at the loss of his warmth inside you, but then he was cradling you in his arms.

You both ended up sitting on the edge of the cot. He held your still quivering form. You grasped his hand, glistening with your juices. He moved to wipe his fingers on the cot but you caught his fingers with your mouth. He watched, awestruck, as you sucked your wet off his fingers one by one.

“You’re so-” He started, his voice rough.

“No,” you interrupted whatever it was he was going to say. You didn’t want affection or terms of endearment. You wanted physical. Just physical. A lie.

“Your turn.” You gasped, desperate to rid yourself of dangerous thoughts. You turned your attention finally back to his belt buckle, but his unrelenting fingers stopped you despite the hard evidence in his pants that he needed release too.

“I have to-” He struggled to speak as he wrapped you tightly in his embrace, more to stop you from handling him than anything. “The child.” He managed.

You nodded. Spent, you could wait for round two. He absently caressed your face with the hand whose arm he had wrapped tightly around your neck. Finally he loosened his grip.

“I’ll be back.” He stood. “We should leave soon.”

“We?” You interrupted, startled.

“You’ll have a bounty on you now you’ve been spotted with me-.”

“Kriff that,” you pushed away from his embrace, and he let you, clearly growing irritated with you once more. “I’ve always had some sort of bounty on me, and I’ve always been fine.” You reasoned, looking around for where you’d thrown your pack in your daze getting on the ship.

He sighed. He sounded so tired. For once, you wanted to give in. But kriff that. He couldn’t tell you where to go or what to do, unless it involved him being inside of you.

“It’s different.” He said simply, as if that settled the matter.

“Look, I don’t know what you did, or who’s looking for you, but…” You picked up your pack and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” you took tentative steps toward the ramp, looking for the corresponding green button on the ship that would get you out.

“They’ll kill you.” His voice deadpanned, and now he was standing.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you pursued me halfway across the kriffing galaxy.” Now you knew you sounded ridiculous as you’d been the one pursuing him.

He sighed again when you pushed the right button on the panel. Nothing happened.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go next. Somewhere you’ll be safe. In the Outer Rim, maybe.” His voice didn’t allow for questioning.

You turned, glaring, your voice picking up its own brittle edge now. “You know I don’t like being told what to do, Mandalorian.”

He tilted his helmet at you, then turned to look at the spot where he’d just ordered you to fall apart in his hands.

You laughed now, still weak from your orgasm not minutes ago and now at the realization of what was happening. “Fuck you, Mandalorian.” You said, all good cheer again. You finally put the pack down and leaned against the hull.

He studied you for a moment, then- “I’m sorry. I won’t let them hurt you-.”

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted shortly, sitting down on the cool floor, refusing to let yourself think of this new overprotectiveness he had over you.

He studied you a moment more before retrieving his discarded glove and climbing the ladder again.

The moment you heard the cockpit door hiss shut, you jumped into action. You pulled your hexdriver from your pack as quick as you could and got to work unscrewing the panel over the buttons controlling entry and exit to the ship. You’d managed to just recouple the two wires necessary to get the kriffing ramp open when-

Gloved hands abruptly grasped yours. Before you could blink, you were in binders again, but this time they were attached to the wall of the ship. As if you were some bounty of his.

“Kriff,” you cried in frustration, elbowing that stupid Mandalorian, but all that got you was a yelp when your joint met beskar. At the same time, you felt the planet fall from beneath you. Soon the Razor Crest would be in hyperspace and you’d be trapped. Your worst nightmare was no escape route.

The Mandalorian steadied your elbow and you yanked it out of his grasp only to hiss at the pain.

He sighed and turned you toward him, though no rougher than necessary given you were fighting against him.

“Why do you always have to do things the hard way?” His modulated voice bordered amusement and exasperation.

You grimaced up at him. “Bad upbringing, I guess.” Then you eyed the binders. “Does this make me your sex toy?” You asked coyly.

He grunted hoarsely, clearly still holding himself over from the last several times you’d both started something only to not finish it. Well, other than you just minutes ago.

If you were trapped, you figured you might as well have fun with it.

Tag List: @kinkywitchy @disn3yfreak @cosmo-bear @rintheemolion @readsalot73 @space-princesssss @crushingonmando

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