#i don't want to ruin a surprise or something for people i want everyone to get to enjoy their first read through

[trashlie]

now wait a DANG minute......

all this stalkyoo talk gave me a stupid epiphany....

the fact that Nol is the only one that is actively calling Shinae "Yoo" rn....

And it makes the title of the story soo transparent than it already is .

😭

i know i know its a dumb thought but i just NEVER read it in that angle for the first time until now.... :p

I've thought about this a lot and I'd really love to hear quimchee talk about it but I don't know if she'll be able to until later, in case it's right and it was an indication of Nol lol

I remember her once saying that there isn't anything to read into re: the title, that it was just something she came up with because she's bad at titles and it wasn't meant to be an indication of anything but... she's also said things to throw us off the trail before or to evade giving spoilers lol so I don't know if that was truthful or not?

Because the romance is such a secondary thing I've always taken what she said at face value because I think the main focus of the story is still so much about those interpersonal relationships, the way Shinae was accidentally drawn into this very complex family drama and how she sort of got centered between these two brothers with a really messed up dynamic, and how becoming involved with that affected her own life. But, yeah lol with a lot of the development we've seen up until now, it sure comes off that way, right?

I have a friend who also reads (though she hasn't caught up in ages and I am dying waiting for her to lol) who ships Dieter and Shinae but when we got to episode 151 when Nol called her Yoo for the first time she was like "Ohhhhh I see it's going to happen huh" lol and I hadn't! Even thought about that? Because I really did take what quimchee said at face value lmao and now I want her to talk about it one day - if she really intentionally named it that or not!

Cos yeah, even now he still continues to call her Yoo, and right, he's the ONLY one who does, and I think he will for a while. Someone I was talking with on reddit pointed out that it was because Shinae had told him if she's not allowed to be familiar with him, he can't be familiar with her and call her by her name - which I had definitely forgotten about lol - and we think that's probably what it is?

Gonna stick some spoilers under this read more now hehehe

Even as VERY FAMILIAR as Nol is acting with her, he's still calling her Yoo and he's probably struggling with that disconnect. He doesn't think himself allowed to be familiar with her yet, after everything that's happened, so he still calls her Yoo, even though he seems to be acting on more familiar instincts. The closeness, the touching, the dance invitation!!! These are SO INCREDIBLY FAMILIAR.

And yet, who he is he to her? Is he ready for her to call him Nol, Nolan? Does he still want to be Yeonggi? If he can't let her use Nol, does that mean he can't call her Shinae? If he goes by Yeonggi, that's still unfamiliar, right, because he's using his mask. So even though he's acting on these wants, being familiar with her in a way they hadn't (consciously) previously been, in his mind he cannot call her Shinae yet, because he cannot be Nol yet.

(I think that will be INCREDIBLY exciting future development, when not only he's able to call her by her name again, but when he will let her call him Nol. The name that once was so precious to him has been marred and demeaned and now feels like a branding of what he means to that family, but I think when he's ready to take that name back, to reclaim it and let it be something special again, and when he lets Shinae use it is going to be a big, BEAUTIFUL moment. I think he's far from that yet - Nol has been used against him for so many years, it will take a lot of undoing for the name to become something special for him again. But GOD when Shinae gets to use it ;~; I will cry. When his friends get to call him Nol, I will cry ;~;)

So!!!! To respond to you basically - I FULLY had not considered it that way because I will believe what people tell me until proven otherwise LMAO but it definitely feels really suspicious at this point now that it's been 50+ episodes and Nol still cannot use her name, and will probably continue to, and who else does it?! But also yeah, because this was so romance secondary I had never considered it to mean anything pertaining to romance? So idk! We'll see in time won't we lol. I'm always interested in hearing what other peoples' interpretations are, because for a while, my working interpretation has been that Shinae has inadvertently gotten involved in so many peoples' lives and, much as Yeonggi did with her, she's grown to become this very special person, so in a sense, so many people have come to love her? But also again I just believed that quimchee threw together a pun and said i guess this works and it was too late to ever change it LMAOOOOOO

ANYWAY DON'T FEEL DUMB! I think a lot of us took what quimchee said at face value and have just never thought anything else of it LMAO so being the first time you're reading it that way definitely isn't dumb!

[biromanticwritergal]

So I'm signed up for this online 30's speed dating event for WLW and sapphics right?

Here's the thing: It looks like they aren't even bothering to regulate it at all because I see tons of people who aren't in their 30s and even some men are listed in the people who are signed up for the event.

What's even the point of a specific event for 30 something WLW if just anyone can join it? :/

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3

ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✨ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrast🤔 he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💢 bonus!!: surprise ;)

@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl

[rindreamery]

it's just instinct, all i want is you.

how long it takes for the blue lock men to realize you’re the one. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. desperate and yearning hcs next??? who knows

it takes itoshi rin 6 months.

rin likes to think that he’s slow and deliberate with his relationships— that he’s not the type to have such decisive thoughts about someone so early on. he’s spent years building up a wall to protect his feelings, and he’s not about to let a (potentially fleeting) person ruin what he's worked so hard to maintain. he's only been with you for 6 months, and he has his doubts about whether you would want to stick around. but all it takes is, “i’m so proud of you, rin,” and his world is completely tilted off its axis.

he tries to tell himself that it's nothing; he's been complimented by other people before.

you probably didn't even think much of it when you told him. it’s just a simple phrase, one of many that people say without thinking. but it's different, it's special, when it's coming from you. your words repeat in his head, like some mantra. it's like his senses are overwhelmed by you. he finds himself focusing solely on your voice, the way you look at him with such gentle eyes, the sincerity behind your words— you. it’s scary how much it affects him. it rattles something deep inside of him, and it shakes him to his core.

he doesn't want to hear it from anyone else, he quickly realizes. those praises don't mean much when it's not coming from you. they don't make him feel unstoppable, like he’s on some high that he’ll never be able to get down from. and he's hit with a jarring realization—

“say it again,” he's standing in front of you, ignoring the incessant flashing of cameras that surrounds him and the deafening cheers of the crowd. he's only looking at you.

“i’m so proud of you,” your voice is quiet, but all he can hear is you, “rin.”

—he's fallen for you, much deeper than he thought he would. he’d be damned if he let you slip away.

it takes itoshi sae 1 year and 3 months.

sae had no intention of falling in love with you. needless to say, his affection for you wasn’t some calculated move. the thought of liking you hadn’t even crossed his mind, and he’s not even sure if he’d ever considered you as a friend. you’ve just been around for long enough that he’s stopped questioning it, that he’s grown to tolerate your presence. at least, that’s what he tells himself. he lets you come over when you want, eat all the snacks in his pantry, use his netflix account— to everyone else, you’re basically a couple. before he knows it, you’ve settled into his life the way a familiar song gets stuck in his head without him noticing.

it’s hard to deny the noticeable shift in sae’s behavior whenever he’s around you.

the way the frown on sae’s face vanishes to a more passive state whenever he’s talking to you, and he's much less irritated at the aspect of having to answer your random (but stupid, in his opinion) questions. he’s not aware, but a part of him subconsciously looks forward to it. “would you still love me if i was a worm?” comes another one of your stupid questions, and he answers without thinking.

“yeah.” the expression on his face remains the same, he’s as indifferent as he always is. but his answer takes both of you by surprise. under his cool facade, his mind is scrambling to make sense of his answer, as if he hadn’t expected himself to say such a thing.

you’re flustered, and it’s evident in the way you stumble over your words. a part of you begins to wonder if that was simply a figment of your imagination, like some hallucination from sleep deprivation. “what— huh?”

so he plays it off, he acts as if he meant to say it. “you heard what i said.” he realizes his heart had decided on you longer than he’d ever been aware of.

it takes nagi seishiro 3 months.

nagi’s used to being alone— he’s used to neglecting himself and every aspect of his life because no one is there to tell him not to do so. he’s not used to having someone be a constant in his life, to have someone who isn’t thrown off by his apathetic and lazy attitude. sometimes he wonders if he acts this way to keep people out, and he wonders why you choose to stay despite. but slowly, you color your way into his bleak routine.

at first, it’s subtle. you linger around him, but your presence isn’t demanding for his attention. you’re there, but you let him be.

and then your presence becomes something a little more prominent. he starts to notice the little post-it notes you leave in his locker, and how you remember to sneak in his favorite snacks. or how his pillows start to smell like your shampoo, and the way he becomes used to having you there in his living room as he plays video games. or even the fact that he finds himself waiting by the gate when classes end, and how he doesn’t mind being pushed around by the crowd as he searches for you in the endless sea of students so he could walk with you. so he could be with you.

he starts to feel like he’s truly living, like there’s something to look forward to every day.

when you say, “see you tomorrow,” he deflates at your words. it’s a weird feeling— he feels weird at the thought that he doesn’t like being alone anymore. that he misses you in the way he misses his phone. he feels bored without you there, and a part of him feels so empty when he doesn’t have you beside him.

when he drops you off at home that day, he realizes it feels strange to be alone again— “can you stay with me?”— he needs to be with you.

it takes michael kaiser 7 months.

kaiser lets his ego get in the way of his relationships. he thinks he can have anyone he wants, and that's why he wholeheartedly believes that he's above the idea of yearning for someone. the idea of wanting someone so much that his thoughts would be consumed by them, and only them? it’s unimaginable. he’s used to being admired, worshipped even, by others. he doesn’t need anyone— he doesn’t need you.

so the prick of irritation he feels, when he sees you laughing at another man’s jokes, catches him off-guard.

it shatters his pride, and he tries to ignore the heat that bubbles under his skin. but he can’t ignore the feeling of possessiveness that washes over him at the sight. you’ve always been his— the heated touches, the way you wear his cologne on your skin, the way you linger around him like it’s natural. you're mine, he always thinks to himself, but he never says it out loud. he’s above yearning— but the idea of you being with someone else makes him feel sick. and he’s not about to let another man take you away.

“come with me.” his voice is sharp and demanding, his mere presence filling the space with an unspoken challenge. but before you can speak, kaiser’s gripping your wrist, pulling you into him without another word of explanation. you don’t fight him, you don’t fight the excitement that it brings you. there’s something in his gaze, something so possessive and raw, that makes you follow him wordlessly. you’re mine, the thought echoes in his mind and for the first time in months, he can’t deny the feeling that has been brewing under the surface.

he yearns for you, and he’ll never let anyone strip this feeling away from him.

it takes oliver aiku 4 years and 2 months.

oliver would never deny the fact that he enjoys having you around. but you’re simply his friend— nothing less, and definitely nothing more than that. you’ve been in his life for years now, lingering in his orbit in a way that keeps you both close, but so far. you’re a constant in his life because he doesn’t need to act around you. he never needs to impress you, never needs to win you over with sugary words. you’ve never given him the typical attention he’s used to, the type of attention that he naturally demands. and that bothers him in a way he won’t admit. yet, it’s this disinterest that pulls at him like gravity. it keeps him coming back, keeps him by your side.

but he doesn’t want anything more from you— he doesn’t need it. it’s these words that keeps him from tainting you.

he doesn't like the dangerous and greedy feeling of wanting to have more of you, wanting to see you in ways that no one else has, and that dangerous feeling that makes him want to devote himself to you wholly. and that’s what gets to him. he’s used to being the one in control, the one who dictates the terms.

it's a futile attempt, he realizes. it's always been you who's had the upper hand.

he can no longer deny that he wants you, more than he’s ever wanted anyone. no one else has his heart racing ‘til he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, no one else has him hooked in the way you’ve been stringing him along. and suddenly, all those meaningless flings feel like distractions, like he’s been wasting time when what he really wants is right in front of him.

it’s not about lust, not about the chase—he just wants you. and this time, he’s not about to let fear or pride hold him back.

© rindreamery, 2024

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[celestiamour]

Accept my Hyun-ju request and my life is yours 😩🛐 (/lh you totally don't have to accept it if you don't want to <33)

BUT. The part where Hyun-ju is about to leave to fight the masked guards. Throughout the games, fem!reader developed a crush on Hyun-ju and before she left to fight, reader decides to go for it and give her a goodbye/good luck kiss 🤭

I am SO obsessed with this queen omg

ft. cho hyun-ju x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ giving her a goodbye kiss before she leaves during the revolt┊0.8k words

setting: season 2, episode 7 contains: , angsty & open-ended, season 2 spoilers, canon-typical gun violence! love confessions, reader is sapphic obviously, mentioned homophobia/transphobic in conservative korea

➤ author's note: i’m so glad to see so many requests for this queen, i’m also obsessed

“goddamn it, where the fuck is dae-ho?!” you could barely even hear yourself over the sounds of shots being fired on both sides, hiding behind the pink walls which were steadily being painted red with the blood of your companions. 

the younger marine had left at some point to gather more magazines from the pockets of the deceased guards back at the barracks, but he was currently nowhere to be seen and the situation was becoming more dire by the second. although you had been conservative with your bullets to focus on accurate hits that would kill them on the spot, there were only a handful left at the moment and some of the other men were completely out. 

over all the ruckus, you could hear hyun-ju yelling into the walkie-talkie trying to get a hold of him, but he was nowhere to be seen or heard so she roughly shoved it into her tracksuit pocket and began to shout, “something must have happened! i’ll go down and check!”

“wait, let me come with you! it’s too dangerous to go alone!” you tried to get up from your position but was stopped when an oncoming bullet managed to graze your face, making you shriek in surprise as a shaky hand lightly brushed at the wound and found your fingers now smeared with blood. 

“it’s even more dangerous for you to move from your spot! i’ll be okay, i promise!”

her determination was awe-inspiring, yet your heart sank at the realization this might be your last time seeing her face. your affections toward her were unexpected even though you already knew you loved differently than most people did, something you both bonded over when being a part of the lgbtq+ community was still a taboo topic socially, but you found her to be beautiful inside and out with her caring personality and resilience in times of danger even though you were too scared of ruining your special friendship to admit it. you had no idea it was possible to become so attached to another in the span of less than a week, being so surprised at the realization you stayed up for hours when others were asleep to take it in. the only other person who knew about your feelings for her was young-mi, and she was…

suddenly hyun-ju was next to you wiping away the sole tear about to drip down the corner of your eye, holding on to you with a worried look on her face, “are you okay? i thought you went into shock for a second.”

god, you didn’t even notice with the battle going on around you sounding almost muffled with the two of you feeling like the only souls for miles around. everyone here insisted you should stay behind on account of being a woman even though you believed you had proven yourself to be tougher than most throughout the games, but she had faith that you could fight just as fiercely as a man and defended you each time they said you should turn back. (as annoying as it was, you don’t blame them since they were only looking out for you.)

you stared back at her for a second, blinking away thoughts of the past to focus on the present, the knowledge of this possibly being your last interaction with her once again coming to the forefront of your mind. taking in a deep breath, you decided “fuck it” with closed eyes and pulled her towards you for your first and possibly last kiss.

her eyes remained wide open in shock, trying to process the sudden action. it lasted for a few seconds but felt like an entire minute, feeling your soft lips against hers as she reciprocated the kiss and feeling her heart jump for joy. the earth seemed to stop spinning for those few moments until a voice called out to interrupt. “hey lovebirds! we’re kind of in the middle of something here!”

you finally parted with her, gazing deeply into her eyes and noting her blown-out pupils. “come back safe, and when we get out of here, we’re going to pay for your surgeries and move to thailand together, and i…” you closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath to muster up the bravery to utter the words you might never be able to say again, “i love you.”

now it was her turn to stare at you. you loved her? loved her as she is? she can’t remember the last time she heard those words after getting essentially disowned by her family. she always knew, deep down, she shared the same feelings for you, but was too scared she would end up alone again as she has been for so long so chose to push them down out of fear of rejection. yet when you’re by her side like this in the face of certain death, she feels courage. “i love you too. we’re going to get out of this together,” her confident voice made it sound like she was an oracle who already foretold your happiness in the future, “but first, you guys are going to have to cover for me.”

“don’t worry, i got your back!”

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[gojosprettyprincess]

RAISE <3

Synopsis - You were going through a really tough time and needed more money so you asked your boss Nanami for a raise but it seems like he has something else in mind. Not proofread

“Fuck look at you clenching around my cock like a fucking slut". He groans loudly as he uses his pure strength to bounce you on his cock like a ragdoll.

"You dirty fucking whore bet you'll do anything for money wouldn't you?”. He snickered, chuckling while he lets out a low “fuck”

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were going through a really rough time and struggling with money for the past few days, and you'd hoped your sweet boss Kento would understand what you were going through and give you a raise even if it's something small, after all, he's a Jujutsu sorcerer, that man makes more money then you ever will in your whole life. But it seems like he had something else in mind.

And that's how you end up in the situation you're in right now, in your Boss's office. His cock nested into your tiny wet cunny, thrusting himself in and you of you, his angry leaky tip hitting your poor cervix with deep ecstasy as he trails wet kisses on your neck.

"You have no idea how fucking long I've been hah—waiting for this" he whispers against your neck, sending literal chills down your spine.

"Always walking around in those tiny fucking skirts, it's like you were begging to get fucked. Shit you always look so fucking hot, always making my dick hard".

You were really surprised by that, Nanami was always really nice to you, nice to everyone actually, always smiling at them and asking about their day, he’d get everyone coffee and pastries in the morning he was just super nice and sweet. This side of him was very unexpected. What's even more unexpected was the fact that he wanted you.

"Wha—what??" You asked confused, your eyes widenings

"We shouldn't be doing this sir!" you squeaked.

"But you wanted a raise, didn't you? Well, you're going to fucking get it" he groans as he picks up the pace fucking his cock into your pussy from below as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders for dear life.

He hugs your frame, your breast against his hard chest as his arms tighten around you, he starts ramming his cock into your cunt at a faster pace, his cock brushing against your g spot with each roll of his hips while he's stretches you open.

“Fuck Ken, It's s'big" you moaned loudly, as if they aren't other people in the next room that could hear, feeling completely split apart around his cock, he was so big, the biggest you've ever had.

“You’re so fucking loud” he grunts as he lands a harsh smack on your plush ass that definitely left his handprint, “Fuck, you want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are clenching around my dick like this, don’t you”.

“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock you filthy bitch.”

"Lo—love it s'much” you try your best to make out. Feeling fucked out as ever.

"Fuck, have I really fucked you dumb already that you can't even form a proper sentence?" he groans while laughing. "You’re gonna have to do better than that princess."

"Your cock feels so good inside of me daddy, it's s'big!" you cried out, feeling his cock twitching inside of you.

"Good fucking girl, Hah—Fuck, that’s what I like to hear, you're gonna make me cum darling".

"You’re going to be so fucking full after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widen with the realization of what he meant. "N-no not inside, please"

"What about that raise princess? Don't fucking make me change my mind, I'm gonna fill your slutty cunt with all my cum and you're going to fucking take it" he stands up with him still inside of you as he places you flat on his desk, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he continues thrusting his massive cock into your gushing wet cunt, your slick dripping down to your asshole, ruining the freshly printed papers from below.

"Hah—Oh fuckk" he moans, slamming his cock into you at an impossible pace, his nails digging deep into your soft thighs as you looked up in horror at what he's about to do "Fucking take it bitch."

You felt his release spurting inside of your pussy, filling you up and causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head. His cock twitches inside of you nonstop, his head falling back as he slowly began pulling out, watching as his cum gushes out of your ruined pussy, dripping down on your asshole onto the desk you were planted on. A small puddle appears beneath you. You were completely fucked out, trying your best to regain your breath as you look up at him.

He slaps his cock against your soaking cunt, groaning as the cum splatters on him. "You like being filled, don't you? You better get used to this if you want to get paid more or maybe you can just be my little office slut, getting paid to Cock warm me all fucking day”.

[periprose]

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

/

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 

/

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

/

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

/

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

/

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck. 

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 

“I said, how is that any different from before?” 

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops. 

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 

You blink, tears rolling down your face. 

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

/

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

/

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world. 

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

/

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 

[plethorawrites]

Guys! Clark has started to invade too!!! Anyway, today I was thinking about Smallville Clark Kent (personal go to when thinking about the character) with a new neighbor from the city...

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Clark Kent: Who sees you by the fence, petting his family's horses, and doesn't recognize you, which is odd because he recognizes everyone in such a small town.

Clark Kent: Who quickly realizes from the way you dress to the lack of an accent that you're not just new in town, but from some larger city that probably has apartment buildings with more tenants than the entire town has people.

Clark Kent: Who brushes off your apology for petting the horses, which you'd only done because you've never seen any in real life and couldn't resist how sweet they looked.

Clark Kent: Who watches you insist on going home to unpack instead of keep talking, but runs into you at school the next day and offers to show you around.

Clark Kent: Who you offer a ride home in your car as a thank you for being an extremely patient tour guide.

Clark Kent: Who accepts, under the condition that you let him show you the town too and when you tell him you pretty much have with how small it is, shakes his head and tells you there's a lot of places people don't know about aside from him or a few other kids.

Clark Kent: Who not only shows you his favorite places the next time you're both free, but also says he would be glad to teach you to ride, if you ever wanted.

Clark Kent: Who is thrilled when you take him up on it and spends several hours on a trail with you at a calm pace, keeping close in case anything suddenly spooked your horse. Although they were incredibly good horses so there weren't any problems.

Clark Kent: Who was fascinated by watching you slowly get more accustomed to the town—wearing clothes that were from a local boutique instead of a designer brand, engaging in the rather silly but beloved town traditions, even cutting off some of the friends from the city who you realized weren't really your friends at all after they once visited and immediately started making fun of Clark and his friends.

Clark Kent: Who was surprised at first, when you showed up at his family's door one day asking to help with the animals, but quickly got used to you coming over to help him feed or bathe them, which you claimed was your way of thanking him for the riding lessons but he suspected you just wanted an excuse to be with the animals.

Clark Kent: Who knew you'd fit in with his friends after they got over their own prejudice of you being rude or pretentious because you're from the city and likes hanging out with you with them but likes it just as much, maybe more, when everyone leaves and you're able to stay a bit longer in the barn.

Clark Kent: Who leans out the window next to you, enjoying the breeze as the sun sets and tells you he's glad you moved to Smallville.

Clark Kent: Who sees you shudder from the cold and instantly wraps his jacket around you, conveniently ignoring your blushing cheeks in case he was misreading the situation.

Clark Kent: Who still carefully tucks a piece of hair out of your face—while the voice in head screams not to ruin things—just to see it better and wets his lip while staring at yours.

Clark Kent: Who leans in slowly, waiting for the moment you'd slap him and walk out for daring to try something with you, but only sees you leaning in too.

Clark Kent: Who kisses you for the first time while you're in the barn, wearing his jacket, but promises himself then and there that it wouldn't be the last.

[ecrivainsolitaire]

Humans have the capability of perceiving when they're being stared at, even if they can't see it.

Dr. T'Chem was staring at Lieutenant /θkɡɾɑːˈŋæ/ (or as his current fling affectionately nicknamed her, "Tucker-Annie"), whose dorsal spikes were still rattling after the incident at the holodeck. It was his first time at the witness stand, and he didn't want to ruin a young star sailor's life.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie was the combat specialist in charge of the training dojo of Federation Vessel TSN457, named after the Terra-Saturn-Ceres coalition where Dr. T'Chem currently served as the xenoanthropologist charged with facilitating human integration to the local Federation of Fraternal Planets and Satellites. The FFPS had the goal of finding planets with intelligent life to trade resources and technology, and due to their recent incorporation, local research vessels were fitted with diverse crews to acclimate everyone to each other's cultures and biological needs. Dr. T'Chem was the human expert in the ship, and was tasked with helping smooth over interpersonal relations among the crew.

The relations were, at that moment, as bumpy as Lt. Tucker-Annie's dorsal spike line.

An incident had occurred during a training exercise. The squad consisted of a Venusian, two Saturnians, three Ceresians, two monks from the Transcorporeal Temple of Robotic Ascension, and five Terrans (two humans, two dogs and a cybernetically enhanced cat). The exercise consisted of getting through a generic jungle scenario and, unbeknownst to the squad, avoiding a team of ninjas lead by Lt. Tucker-Annie trying to take them out one by one. It was supposed to test the way they would react to a surprise attack.

It was not supposed to reveal that humans could sense when they were being stalked.

Of course, any trained sailor would have an ingrained knowledge of potential threats and how to spot them. Look for the shadows that are too dark, listen for the spot air isn't blowing from, things like that. Basic things most people don't think about but that can be identified if you think about them.

This was not that.

"Something's watching us," said Crew Johnson, in that sloppy way only creatures with lips spoke.

"What do you mean? There's cameras everywhere, of course they're watching us," responded Crew Hessikh, slithering over the vines on a tree branch to cross a river. She grabbed the axe in Crew Johnson's belt with her telekinesis and took down a small tree to serve as a bridge.

"Crew Flufflepaws, could you please take a look?" Asked Crew Johnson, nervously looking around. Crew Flufflepaws got on the tree as well and scanned the terrain from above.

"I can't see anything, or smell anything. And my hearing isn't what it used to be. I'll stay on the lookout for—" a horrendous hiss interrupted the automatic translator's feed. Crew Flufflepaws' comm line cut off.

Hessikh and Johnson looked at each other. That was the strongest fighter of their team, gone. They knew it was a simulation, but it still gave them chills.

The rest of their crew mates were split into two different teams further along the path. Crew Fanning's voice came from the comm line.

"Johnson, Hessikh, are you okay? What happened to Flufflepaws?"

"We don't know, Johnson said something was watching us and it went to check, then we lost comms."

"I felt it too. I know this isn't that kind of exercise but I think— AAAHHH!"

Two blaster shots were heard, then a thud.

Lieutenant Tucker-Annie, who was watching Hessikh and Johnson from the mud pit behind the latter, had her tranquilizer dart ready. She got ready to shoot down Hessikh, but then heard a voice over the comm line.

"Code Lithium, we have a Code Lithium, we have to end the simulation, I just took down- I can't-" the breathing was sounding heavier and faster, too fast for a human.

"Fanning, calm down, remember your sutras. We need you focused, what happened?"

"I felt like I was being watched, so I turned around and saw this thing and it scared me and I jumped and I thought it was on stun mode and-"

"It's alright, we're calling it off. Captain, we have a Code Lithium! End the simulation now or- fuck, there it is again. Hessikh, do you see any heat sources?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary- why haven't they shot it down alre-"

The next thing Lieutenant Tucker-Annie remembered was the sound of a heel turn over the mud, followed by darkness.

Lt. Tucker-Annie woke up in the hospital bay, getting her tail regenerated by a robot nurse. She looked over and found her underling on the next bed, with a huge bandage on the side of his neck and a wing in a cast. Thankfully, he would be alright as soon as the stem cell bank was reprogrammed after her treatment.

The disciplinary board was called, an investigation was open, and both Crew Fanning and their captain were put on paid leave while the investigation was ongoing. Dr. T'Chem was called in as an expert after a review of the holodeck footage revealed there was no way Crew Fanning could have heard, seen or smelled the hidden sailor.

It was the first time in a while he hadn't helped himself to a glass of Venusian whiskey for breakfast. He really didn't want to mess this up.

"And would you care to explain how this is possible, Doctor?" Asked the prosecution, staring him down with an unnerving amount of eyes.

"I am as astounded as this court; our firm has been looking into Terran medical literature and we're still trying to figure out how it works; they don't even know, but they know it does happen, it's been documented for thousands of years. I have a hypothesis, but I don't know if it's even testable."

There was a murmur in the court. The judge asked him to elaborate.

"The way eyesight works is the light bounces off of opaque bodies and in its way it collides with the lenses in our corneas, which send it to the brain as electrical signals to be interpreted. The light that doesn't go into our eyes just bounces off our bodies and other opaque objects as well, the photons go everywhere and anywhere. This is the same for most species in this constellation, including humans. But even other Terran species don't have these abilities, as Crew Flufflepaws has testified."

A begrudging meow was heard from the audience.

"Order in the court, please. Dr. T'Chem, what do you suggest is the origin of this mysterious sense?"

The camera drones all hoovered around him. Dr. T'Chem straightened his fins and got close to the microphone.

"I believe it's possible that humans have a sense of touch so sensitive that they can feel the photons that don't bounce back. The ones that go into an eye instead of an opaque body. I think humans can actually feel in their skin when they are being watched."

There was an uproar in the crowd. His paramour, a dark skinned young human from the human settlement known as "Colombia", grabbed the religious symbol on her necklace and made a gesture with it he hadn't quite figured out yet.

The trial had to go on recess.

The implications were incalculable. Three dozen biologists from six different planets, including Terra, had emailed him before the end of the day to ask him to justify himself. Multiple human religious leaders took the chance to link it to demonic possession or moral evils. By the end of the week, four different labs were trying to figure out a way to double blind test shooting a photon cannon on a human's back and trying to get them to sense it.

But most importantly, the news made it outside of the Federation. The rumours about this new species that couldn't be stalked got so far, it ended up affecting the outcome of a border conflict with the Betelgeuse Libertarian Army on the Federation's favour.

Humans were terrifying.

If this is what they evolved to be, what was their planet like?

[if-loves]

because you're everything (i have left)

// Phainon

sum: Is it so wrong that Phainon is everything you know?

wc: 1001

warnings: 3.0 story quest spoilers, amphoreus inaccuracies, ooc phainon, written before phainon release, implied (??) yan phainon, reader is a hot mess tbh

a/n: help i tried to make him yan but this just devolved into codependent relationship 

likes & reblogs appreciated :)

Phainon has known you his whole life. You have both seen each other in your most vulnerable of times, as children who had yet to understand the cruelties of the world, and as adults who have suffered the cruelties of the world. Through it all, you and Phainon held onto each other, mumbling promises of never leaving each other.

That was when Aedes Elysiae first fell to the savage flames, and the two of you were the only ones who managed to escape.

Years have passed since then, but the sight still lives in your mind, a vivid image that only seems to refresh and worsen the pain and guilt in your heart. Could you have done something and saved at least one more person? Was the way you were acting at the moment too selfish? Had you been a little stronger, a little smarter, would your home still be standing? 

You know enough about Phainon to know that for all his act as a playful young man, he harbours a grief and rage so deep in his soul even you don't know if you'd be able to coax it out of him. It's true he'd do many things for you, yes, but asking him to open up may be a boundary even if you can't cross.

But you'd do anything to keep Phainon happy, because you know he would do the same for you - because you're all each other has to remind you of home. Because you're all each other has left.

Upon finding asylum in Okhema, Phainon decided to leave his original name behind with the ruins of Aedes Elysiae and start somewhat anew in the Holy City. He had even told you to forget the name you've known him by all your life in favour of this new one, yet asked you sweetly to keep yours.

Sometimes you wonder if, had it not been for the destruction that rained upon your village that day, you and Phainon would be as close as you were today. Would you have shared all these intimate moments, like kissing and cuddling and all that naturally followed after, if everything was still as you had known? Would he have looked at you with the same disarming smile he always does when he comes back from another mission, or would he have slowly left you, like watching a boat be carried away by the sea's currents. 

You try not to let yourself be consumed by these thoughts. Phainon wouldn't be happy to know you doubt his love for you, and you'd hate to make him sad. He works so hard to keep you safe and happy, so the least you could do was make him happy when he was home. 

You'd do anything to make him happy. Even if it meant isolating yourself in the four walls of this home, even if it meant reducing yourself to nothing more than the one he'd come home to, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness for his, because this is what love is, isn't it? 

Phainon tells you he loves you often, while holding your face gently in his calloused hands. There's an emotion in his eyes you can't quite decipher, but it reminds you of a feeling you're very familiar with - guilt. You wonder why he feels that way, and why it only appears when he looks at you. What emotions does he harbour inside that lonely head of his?

You think it's hard to imagine Phainon wanting to hurt people. He's always been a kind person, even as a child and especially as an adult. He's always wanted the best for everyone, and he's never done anything to make you feel otherwise, so it's no surprise that when he tells you to never leave the house without him, and to never answer any knocks on the doors or windows, and to never open the curtains and windows, you listened. As a Chrysos Heir, he must be privy to some sensitive information, and as your lover, he must only wish to protect you. Phainon would never do anything to hurt you.

Despite your unwavering faith in him, you find it especially difficult to control your thoughts on particularly lonely days like these. He told you that he may be gone for awhile for some business to do with being a Chrysos Heir, and left you with a chase kiss on your lips before he was locking the door on his way out. How long would he be gone this time? 

Without him around, the disease named fear starts its infection and spreads throughout your soul. You're well aware of its tell tale signs, and you have yet to find a remedy for it that isn't Phainon's presence. It starts slowly, taking its time to seep into the crevices of your soul, before it comes crashing down on you and all of a sudden you're drowning.

Is Phainon taking care of you because you're all that's left of Aedes Elysiae? Do you deserve everything that Phainon has given you? Was your life worth the deaths of all those villagers? Phainon is a Chrysos Heir, greatness is written in his script since the moment he was born. What were you?

It's okay, though. Because when Phainon walks through the door, all your doubts disappear in an instant. He engulfs you warmly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and everything feels right even if only for a moment.

But sometimes even his presence isn't enough to dispel some of your doubts. Does Phainon truly love you for you, or does he love you for what you remind him of? Of a bygone past that only exists in your memories, that smells of ash and sounds of screams, that the both of you can't let go of, even as it threatens the destruction of you and him? 

But it's okay if it’s Phainon, you think. Because you love him. Because he's all you have left.

[missnxthingg]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.2 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing and smut! (skip if you want to) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - One more chapter to go and I REALLY hope this one is like... me predicting the future 🤞 And if you want to skip the smut part, I put it on italics, so don't worry about missing it!

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Race weekends in Zandvoort always make Y/N very anxious, because everyone knew the owner of the house is Max Verstappen. No driver had such power over the crowd of fans on the grandstands of the Netherlands than the leader of Red Bull Racing. But this year, the sea of orange – that most definitely weren’t for McLaren this time – was the last thing making her nervous.

Her relationship with Lando had barely started, and this would be the first race they attended as an official couple, even though not a lot of people really know about it. On the past week, they took their time to enjoy the last days of summer break and enjoy being together. But now, they were finally stepping out of the safeness of their home to start going out into the public as a couple. People would start to acknowledge their relationship.

It wasn’t the type of thing you tell through the internet to close people around you. Lando got to tell his best friends, including Max, through one last golfing session before the break was over. Y/N revealed to her parents once they came around to stay with Olivia for the weekend, so she could work. But their team and the public didn’t really know about it, and it was making her more nervous than anything in life.

“Fuck me, this is hard”, she cursed as she stepped into the paddock with the sensation that everyone had their eyes on her, as if she had a big bad secret to tell them all.

“Y/N, meeting with the drivers in fifteen”, Steve, her boss, called once he spotted her walking past him. That would be the first time she would be in the same room with her boyfriend and their entire team after summer break, and she was nervous, because she knew Lando wouldn’t behave around them.

As much as Y/N was being careful to protect their relationship from everyone, he didn’t really care who knew about them. And of course the first thing he did when she entered the McLaren motorhome was press a long kiss to her cheek.

People around them frowned. Not that they didn’t know about Lando and Y/N close friendship, it was just that they rarely showed their affection for each other inside the work environment – except for big racing achievements.

“Morning, baby”, he mumbled, pulling her for a hug before the start of the meeting. Lando had left the hotel earlier for training with Jon, so they still hadn’t seen each other today. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a little anxious, but it was alright”, she kept her voice low as they had their casual and wholesome conversation in the corner, ignoring people’s staring. “And you?”

“I always sleep well next to you”, he winked before pulling a chair for her to seat at their meeting room. 

Everyone around them wanted to say something about what they were seeing. And surprising enough, Oscar was the first one to address the elephant in the room, after ten minutes of Lando and Y/N pretending it was all just the same.

“You two are together, aren’t you?”, the Australian asked, and Y/N had to hide her face between her hands in order to hide her embarrassment as well. “Fucking knew it”.

“We just started dating”, Lando started, ignoring the entire conversation they were having a minute ago about the press conference he was going to participate.

“And I was waiting for the right moment to tell you all, but Mr Norris can’t keep his hands to himself”, Y/N completed, making her boyfriend chuckle with the response.

“You all owe me dinner”, Zak stated, making the entire team laugh and the couple frown at their reactions. “We all knew you’ve been together since Miami. We were just waiting for the time you made it official”.

“See! I told you weren’t careful with your hugging and kissing around the paddock”, Y/N smacked Lando’s bicep, making him hiss in pain. “Great, this definitely not how I wanted everyone to find out about this��.

“But it isn’t so bad, is it?”, Lando questioned, not only the team, but Y/N as well. “You don’t need to be afraid about this being public”.

Y/N glanced at him and her eyes said it all, that the conversation still wasn’t over, because there were things she wanted to say away from everyone else. But she continued with her discourse: “If you think this is unprofessional or that it will mess with his PR, I can step away from the team”.

“Nonsense”, Zak laughed, joined by her other boss. “If anything, you make his PR better. And people absolutely love you as well. So as long as it doesn’t mess with the team results, I don’t see a problem with you staying with McLaren, Y/N”.

“And you two have always been very professional whenever you’re wearing papaya. So we know you’ll continue being respectful at work”.

It still didn’t make Y/N relax that now everyone knew about them. She still had hundreds of thoughts about people knowing about their relationship, because she had lived through Lando’s past relationships, to which the public had made sure to ruin with their online activity.

“Is that why you’re anxious?”, he asked once they were alone in his driver’s room, and she voiced her concerns to her boyfriend. “Y/N, I love you. And this time, I don’t think anyone will have the ability to ruin this for us, not even online haters”.

“But…”, she tried to justify her worries once again, but she ran out of breath, having to take a seat on his tiny couch to breathe. Lando sat next to her and held her hands between his, so they could have a heart-to-heart conversation.

“I know relationships are scary, especially one so public like ours, but I promise you that I will do anything to protect you. To protect us”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile for a second. “And I don’t want to hide you, my love. You know I’ve never wanted to do this”.

“I still worry a lot about what people will think about this”, she admitted, and he understood her side. “I’m a single mother. I’m a coworker. You know exactly what some people think about me. All of this can turn out to be very bad for us”.

“I can assure you that people whose opinion matters will not care about any of this”, he said, letting one of his hands find her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in comfort. “I love you. Nothing will ever change this”.

“I love you too”.

Y/N found it funny how much trusting someone can make you more confident with time. After that conversation with Lando, she wasn’t afraid of telling people anymore. So when she learned that he had told his parents, when both showed up for the race in Zandvoort, she didn’t worry about their reaction – which was really good, for that matter.

“Now I can finally admit it to you, Y/N. I’ve always rooted for you and Lando”, Cisca said to her, as they watched one of his free practices together. “I was the first person to know he was in love with you, by the way. Mothers always know, and you’ll see it”.

“Did he tell you first?”

“Yes”, she smiled softly.”When he was twenty. But I knew it before any words came out of his mouth. He has been down bad for you since you met, and I could see it in his eyes. So I’m glad he finally got the girl of his dreams.

“I’m glad too”, Y/N smiled at Cisca before taking a quick glance at the television in the garage. Lando had just set the best time on the session, taking the first position on the grid. “You know, I was nervous about people’s reactions. Specially those who are very important to him”.

“Worried about what, my love?”

“That people would think I’m only using him”, Y/N admitted. “I know what people say about me online. While some people think our friendship is really cute, others think I’m only using him for his money to raise my daughter. But I swear that I’m not”.

“Well, I know that you’re not using him. And so does Adam, his siblings, Max, your friends. Everyone that matters know you’re with him because you love him. And they know that everything Lando does for you and Olivia is because he loves you too”.

“Yeah, he told me that”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “And all my insecurities went away”.

“And by the way, it’s always funny to see a little girl bossing him around like I saw in Silverstone”, Cisca laughed, remembering all the times she saw then interact at his home race. “He loves her so much, since she was born, you know? He has always said that his biggest wish was to be the father Olivia never had. And I think he’ll be just great doing that”.

“I think so too”, Y/N admitted. “He has been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t have named a better godfather for Ollie. He said to me that he wanted to be in this position for her, and so far, he’s been great at owning up to his words”.

“I’m glad I taught him very well to do that”, his mother laughed. “So don’t worry about people. Everyone that actually matters will always have your back”.

“Thank you, Cisca. It means a lot, really”.

While it made things easier for Y/N to accept being public with Lando, letting things flow naturally, his ‘PR problem’ ass wasn’t helping on keeping it a secret from anyone. Because of the amazing weekend he was having, he didn’t really care if anyone saw his affection towards his girlfriend. Starting from pole, he arrived at the paddock on the weekend and immediately found her so they could walk with his arm around her shoulder, right in front of all the photographers and fans.

“I swear to God that if you end up exposing us too soon, or in the wrong way, I’m going to kill you”, she whispered. “Or worse, I’m going to break up with you”.

“That’s definitely worse, babe. At least I would’ve died knowing you were my girlfriend”, he giggled, pulling her inside the motorhome, away from everyone’s eyes. “And people need to start getting used to us being a couple. I don’t want to hide you to the world. You’re my girlfriend and I want everyone to know”.

“Lando, please, we talked about this…”, she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. Lucky enough, they were alone inside the motorhome, a rare occasion on Sundays. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I win today, will you let me hard launch us?”, he asked, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, does it matter if we do a soft or a hard launch? Everyone has always rooted for us. And I think that if I win, then it’s the Universe giving us a go”.

“Lando, you’re on fucking pole. There’s a very big chance you end up winning today”.

“But you very much know that pole position has never guaranteed me anything”, he joked, knowing very much about his reputation with race starts. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Alright. If you win today, then I’ll let you tell everyone about us. But if you don’t win, then we’re doing things my way”, she pointed a finger at his face, making Lando open his signature boyish smile before taking her hand away from his face and pulling her for another kiss. 

“Deal”, he winked, already thinking he would do anything in his power to make sure he won today. He didn’t care who he would have to take off the race to get a chance at winning, he had to get this win for them both.

Later that day, when Lando lost the lead before the first corner, Y/N thought she had her answer for the day. Of course, Max Verstappen would win in his home race, it was obvious. But when he easily overtook him and finished the race twenty-second ahead of the three time world champion, she knew the Universe was throwing a big message at their faces.

She sighed in defeat when Lando opened the last lap, and teared up when he finally crossed the finishing line, so proud of his achievement. It was the green light they’ve been waiting for so long in their relationship. Then, she got to hear the last radio message of the race through her headphones, through the cooldown lap, one that made her laugh.

“Tell Y/N that a deal is a deal”, Lando said. “She’ll understand it”.

She shook her head in disbelief, but was already accepting that this was happening. The whole world was about to know about them. So she joined his parents to wait for Lando at the parc fermé, and they all cheered a lot when he parked his bright papaya McLaren in the winner’s position. He rushed his way out of the car and jumped into his team's arms, eyes already looking for Y/N through his visor. After the weighting, he finally removed his helmet and rushed to his girlfriend. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a big kiss in front of everyone. In front of every camera, every journalist and every fan present on the track. He didn't care about anyone or anything else, just about this girl.

“A deal is a deal”, he whispered against her lips, making her entire face burn in embarrassment.

“When you said ‘hard launch’, I thought you meant an Instagram story with a cute caption”.

“Uhm… not really my way of doing things”, he shrugged with a smile, moving onto his parents, who were excitedly waiting for their turn to hug him. It felt so good to have family there to cheer for him. This race, after so many bad ones, didn't feel so lonely.

But as much as Lando just wanted to be with his family, he still had a lot of duties to do after the race, including the podium celebration and the media duties afterwards. He still couldn’t get his hands off Y/N, always having his arms wrapped around her somehow as they walked along the paddock to everywhere he was required to be.

“If someone gets mad about the hard launch, I’m putting it into your account, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine and me winning proves that. We let the Universe decide the timing for us and it did”, he shrugged. “I’m just happy to finally tell everyone that you’re mine”

“Did you push your car to the limit just to win the race for us?”, she frowned.

“Wish I could say I did, but the McLaren was a rocketship today. It really was just faith”, he assured with a smile. "Every piece of this puzzle fell perfectly into place. Now we just have to enjoy it”.

Of course, the entire media wanted to know about this. Normally, some vehicles don’t get too much into the drivers’ personal lives, but since Lando kissed her in the middle of the track, right after winning a race, it would be interesting for them to have a quote about who’s the mysterious girl wearing a McLaren shirt that he kissed in the middle of the track. The journalists all knew her, since Y/N was always by Lando’s side through every media duty, but the world was about to really get to know her.

“I don’t have a lot to say about that”, Lando shrugged when one of the reporters asked about the kiss. “I won, and I was happy, and I kissed my girlfriend who was there to celebrate it with me. Not a big deal at all, except or the fact that now everyone knows she’s my girlfriend”, he chuckled.

Y/N, who was standing right next to him holding her own microphone to record all the conversations for McLaren, felt like she was about to burst into flames for embarrassment. She could only imagine the internet burning up videos and comments as well. Maybe she should stay away from social media for a couple of days.

“So McLaren’s golden boy is no longer single now?”, the reporter asked.

“Yeah”, Lando giggled. “And they say I got no rizz. Yet, I got the most perfect girl to cheer for me at every race”.

Later that day, after all the team celebrations and his duties with the media team, they left the paddock hand in hand, right next to his parents. Lando didn’t want it to be a big celebration this time, because there was no point for it. He just wanted to have dinner with his family and enjoy the rest of the night with Y/N.

“I think I’m having déjà vu from Miami”, he whispered in her ear as they approached his car, making Y/N laugh. “Come on, I’m serious”.

“As if you weren’t going to get it”, Y/N joked. “And I think it will be good to finally have some time alone for once. I love Ollie, but I think we deserve some time alone for now”.

“We’re already behaving like an old married couple”, he chuckled, and lowered his voice once again. “But yeah, it will be nice to not be quiet for once”.

“You’re pathetic”, she laughed, but deep down he knew she agreed with him.

The dinner celebration was filled with laughter and joy, with both of them having a fun meal with Adam and Cisca, who were getting to see them as a couple for the first time in their lives. They expressed how much they were glad to finally see them together, loving to see the smile on their son’s face for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N”, Adam said, as they were saying their goodbyes after dinner. The couple would be leaving for England tonight. “You have always taken care of him, but I know this time is different. I know you make him the happiest”.

“It’s so easy to love your son”, she admitted. “So you don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you for raising such a good man”.

“Stop! I’m blushing over here”, Lando commented as he hugged his mother. “You silly idiots love me, I know. I love you all, too”.

He was over the moon with the ending of this weekend. When they arrived back at the hotel, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. She tried making her skincare routine, taking off the uncomfortable clothes to slip into bed, but he kept kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth.

“You look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented, his lips close to her ear, as she felt her entire body shiver with his contact. Y/N was wearing a see-through nightgown that she packed specially for this trip, because she knew that no matter the result, they would be alone at night for the first time in a while. 

His hands ran through her entire body and Lando was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear when he put his hands under her dress. He gasped when they found her unclothed core.

“Oh my God, you're getting reckless”, he giggled, turning her around as she put her arms around his neck. “Am I taking you down the wrong path?”

“I've always been like this, muppet. Now, you get to see this new side of me”, she nudged his nose, making him smile brightly. 

“I like this new side of you”, he pecked her lips once again before pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lando and Y/N were loving to take their time together, instead of sneaking around the house and not taking too long to have sex because of Olivia. But now they didn't have a little girl to bother them in such intimate moments. They savoured each other's lips and enjoyed moments of silence, filled only and exclusively by their kisses noises.

She palmed him through his pants during the kiss, making Lando moan between their lips. Y/N felt him growing hard, so she slipped a hand inside his trousers, making him moan louder this time.

“Baby”, he called as she started massaging his cock. “Fuck, don’t stop”.

“I wasn't planning to”.

Y/N turned him around, straddling his hips, only to easily take his shirt off. While she didn't work his cock with her hand, her hips were doing their job as they made out a little more.

“Do you want to take my nightie off?”, she asked, and Lando quickly nodded, pulling the dress off her body, making his lips immediately find her nipples. Y/N rocked her hips against his, doing circular movements, as she felt him harder than a rock under her core.

“Please, I need you”, he asked, throwing his head back into the pillow with the pressure on his cock.

“I got you, my love”.

Y/N started kissing down his chest, paying attention to his nipples as well, knowing everything in his body was highly sensitive at the moment. She lowered her kisses to his belly, until her lips found the hem of his trousers and boxers. She darted her eyes up, meeting him halfway, as she provoked him with the kisses. When she managed to pull off his last pieces of clothes that were keeping them apart, her hands immediately found a grip on his cock.

“So beautiful”, she complimented, making him blush under her comment. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love”.

She lowered her head to get closer to his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip. Her eyes looked up and they found Lando's, who was attentively watching her every move. His hands brushed through her tongue and soon gathered her hair in a ponytail, taking it out of the way so he could see her better.

Y/N found it very hot when she finally put him inside her mouth and Lando let out a surprisingly loud moan. She bobbed her head up and down, his noises only making her keep going with her job. Eventually, he started thrusting his hips into her mouth a little, desperately chasing for his high. But afraid of hurting his girlfriend, he kept his strength to himself.

“I don't want you to hold back”, Y/N said, popping his dick out of her mouth, still stroking him with her hands. “Tonight, I want to feel everything, please”.

“Fuck, you're driving me insane”, Lando sat straight, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting a little bit of himself on her mouth. “Get on your knees on the floor, beautiful”.

Y/N did as she was told, and he stood up from the bed, putting a hand on the base of his cock and using the other one to caress her face.

“Open your mouth, baby girl”, he brushed the tip of his dick through her lips as she looked up so innocently at him. But then she opened it wide, knowing he had a big cock, so she could take all of him. “My good girl. Gonna take all of me in your mouth, uhm? Don't want me to hold back?”

Lando’s cock was already deep inside her throat and Y/N tried her best not to gag at how big he was. He only stopped with the rough pace when he felt his dick spilling cum inside her throat, panting her on the inside with a little piece of him. Once he was empty, Lando left her mouth open on the floor and paid attention to the white liquid on her tongue, to which she swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Fucking hell”, he cursed, pulling her back up so he could kiss her again. “You're so fucking sexy, my girl. You did so good”.

“Now please do something to help me, because I'm dripping”.

Lando had gone a little soft again, but with a little more time, he would be ready to go again. This only gave him more time to make Y/N enjoy herself. And after weeks discovering her body like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly what she liked him to do.

“Come on, I'll take care of my good girl, because she's been so good today”, he pressed kisses to her cheek before shoving her back to bed. If she wanted it rough, she would have it. And Y/N loved when he altered between soft and dom in bed.

She could feel his thick fingers working in circles on her clit as he intensively flipped, bite, sucked and kissed her nipples, one of the most sensitive areas of her body. 

“I want to try something different today”, he said, pulling a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her eyes, as some sort of blindfold. Then, he took a little surprise out of his bag; handcuffs, to which she only found out when he felt the coldness of the metal against the skin of her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard. Now, her senses were solely focused on touching.

“You're being so bold today”.

“I know how to obey my girlfriend when she says she doesn't want me to hold back”, he shrugged, making her entire body shiver with only the words.

Lando was quiet for a moment, and it seemed like he went somewhere else in the room, taking a very long time before he did anything to her, leaving her naked in bed, legs wide open for his pleasure. Then suddenly, she felt fingers doing circles on her clit again, this time taking the slowest time to provoke her. Then she felt his hot tongue going through her cunt, which made her moan loudly. But the licking was just a spoiler, and the entrance plate was his fingers, who started pumping in and out of her roughly, then curling at the right spot inside of her. It felt so good to the point she could feel her high coming and coming and…

Nothing. Lando pulled his fingers away from her, leaving her squirming alone in bed. She whined at the loss of contact and almost cried to have her orgasm ruined, not getting to do anything about it because of the handcuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lando, I need to fucking cum ”, she cried. “Please, I'm so close”.

The next round, Lando settled between her legs and ate her pussy as if his life depended on it. Y/N wanted more than anything to see him going down on her, to touch his fluff hair that was brushing deliciously against her tights. The only thing she could do was lock him close to her with her tights. Still, it didn't keep him from pulling away just as she was about to reach her high again.

“What the fuck, Lando? Why are you doing this to me?”, she whined, missing the contact on her core, wanting her release. 

“Haven’t you heard of edging, baby?”, he asked. “I'm making sure you're good to cum as hard as you can when the time comes”.

"You're bad", she cried, making him smile at her, even though she couldn't see him at all. 

He squeezed her hips and reassured: "Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this later”

Lando softly brushed his fingers against her sensitive core, and Y/N bucked her hips towards his fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel something more. And he obeyed. For a good thirty minutes, he spent between her legs, edging her in ways he never thought he could. But one time, when he was already feeling his cock rock hard and ready to go again, he didn't pull away when he felt her pussy clenching around his fingers as he used his tongue to stimulate her clit.

Y/N came harder than she had ever done in her life, making Lando's face soaking wet. And still, he made sure to lick all of it, making her clean for the next step. When he came back from her tights and removed her blindfold, Lando had a smug smile on his face, proud of his work.

"God, you're soaked", she laughed, and then it dawned on her why his face was wet. "Oh God, did I…?”.

"Squirt? I think so", he said with a proud smile. "I didn't know you could do that”.

"I didn't know I could do that", Y/N admitted, making Lando smile wider. 

"Oh, I'm so proud of myself right now”, he laughed, running his thumb through his mouth to collect the rest of her juices, only to put it on his mouth to taste her again. 

“Ugh, men…”, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smirk, and watched him undo the ties on her wrists, making her arms finally come back down. “Thank God, I was sore”.

“Sorry, baby. Promise to go easy on you now”, he pressed a few kisses to her face, making her heart swell in adoration. How could this man be so sexy and cute at the same time?

“Uhm, I love you”, she ran her fingers through his hair, making him smile widely.

“I love you too”, their lips met in a sweet kiss, shifting the mood in the bedroom1

Lando pressed kisses to every inch of her skin and massaged her arms, making sure she was soothed and well rested for another round. And of course the massages turned into another heated makeout, that ended up with Lando positioned between her legs, their cores brushing together, as they slowly kissed in the calmness of their room.

“Wanna be inside you”, he mumbled, taking his cock once again and brushing the tip around his clit, making Y/N whimper.

"Please", she asked, making him push it inside her the next second. And even after all this time, YN still couldn't get over the feeling of having him stretching her in all sorts of good ways. And he was still surprised how they fitted like two puzzle pieces.

"So wet for me, baby. I prepared you well", Lando praised, smiling at the work he had done earlier. "I can go in so easy on you, fuck”.

Y/N refused to get away from Lando tonight, even though they always loved to try new positions. She just wanted to be close to him, be able to see his fare from up close, lean up and kiss him. She hugged his body and dug her fingers on the skin of his back, scratching him up.

“You feeling good, baby? Talk to me. What do you want?”, Lando asked and Y/N had to control her breathing to be able to talk to him.

"Harder, please", she put one of her hands between her legs to stimulate her clit, trying to chase her high once again. He caught her action and substituted her hand with his, picking up his pace.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good", he moaned. "God, I'm so lucky”.

"The luckiest", she smiled at him, loving to see him from that angle, eyes shut in pleasure and solely focusing on her body. The coat of sweat over his body and the flexing of his arms as he held her tightly only made him even more beautiful. She was so lucky too. 

"I'm close", he announced, but even though Y/N was feeling great, she still wasn't close to her high. 

"Switch", she asked, making Lando frown and drop his pace.

"What?”

"Switch positions, please”.

Lando likes to be on top, in control all the time, and so far, he has always been the one in control When he was with Y/N. Still, when she asked for this change, he didn't complain. Trying new things with her is always amazing.

And to be fair, he got on the verge of cumming when he saw her on top of him, now calling the shots, working on the pace that was best for her. Lando got a grip on her ass to help her steady and one of his hands helped stimulate her clit once again. 

"Now I'm close. Are you close, baby?”, she asked, but all Lando could do was nod and moan her name. 

It didn't take long until they reached their high and Y/N collapsed on top of him. Lando felt his cock going soft while still inside her, but they were too tired to move. She pressed a few tired kisses on his chest, making him smile at the gesture. It made his stomach fill with butterflies, like she has always done since they met.

"If a victory sex is amazing, I can only imagine what a championship sex will feel like", he said, making her chuckle.

"Absolutely amazing", she said. "So you better get that trophy for us”

"Don't know if I can do that, Y/N", he admitted. “I’m scared this might be my only chance and that I'm wasting it away, throwing victories like this on the trash. And that, in the future, I won't have the same opportunity once again”.

"Don't let these thoughts get to you, cause I know you're doing your best. And if you end up second place in the championship, it's alright too. I will love you no matter what. And we'll have an amazing vice championship sex in a nice hotel room in Abu Dhabi".

He smiled fondly at her response and started his aftercare routine immediately after, putting her in the shower, because they were a mess, while he changed the bed into spare sheets, so they could sleep somewhere clean. Soon he joined her on their quick shower, only to get back to bed once again to rest from their full day.

"I love you so much", he said, now that they were back to cuddling in bed. “You make me the happiest. I'm so lucky to have you in my life”.

"I love you too, baby. I love you and your random confessions of love", she kissed the tip of his nose, making his heart rush. "I love everything about you”.

"Even my flaws?”

"Even your flaws. And I'll be here with you until the end".

"Come on, baby. Let uncle Lando carry you”.

Olivia was sitting in the back of his car, sleepy to be woken up from her afternoon nappie before the race and not really in the mood to be around the paddock today. Sometimes, Y/N thinks she’s too much like Lando, who also absolutely hates to be woken up from his naps. It didn’t matter if they were, finally, in Abu Dhabi, anticipating not only their first December as a family, but also Norris’ great chances of winning the championship, to which he had managed to drag to the last race.

He wanted Ollie to be there for this one. Actually, his entire family was there to celebrate it with him; his siblings and nieces – who were all having a great time with Olivia –, his parents, his best friends; and, most importantly, both of the loves of his life, who have been his biggest support throughout the year.

Lando carried his goddaughter through the paddock, as she continued her nap on his shoulder. Y/N walked beside them, no longer scared of what the public would think. Even since their hard launching in Zandvoort, his fans have been nothing but supportive for their relationship. Who truly was his fan knew how much she and her daughter meant to him, so they defended the couple from any harm.

Also, Y/N stood beside him because she knew today would be a hard day. The championship was still at stake, and Lando would need all the support he could get from her. Since yesterday, when he got the last pole position of the season, he hasn't let go off her hand for a second; not even now, that they still had a long walk through the paddock with him carrying Ollie on his arm. Last night, they all cuddled together in bed, only for him to wake up surrounded by his favourite people.

“You good?”, Y/N asked once they were in his driver's room. Flo, one of his sisters, was there as well and would be keeping an eye on Ollie while they did their respective jobs on track.

“Yes”, Lando smiled at her. “I thought I would be more terrified and nervous, but I'm actually alright. Whatever has to happen, will happen”.

“That’s my boy”, Y/N pulled him for a kiss on the cheek, making him blush with the gesture. “Flo, are you alright here with Ollie? I promise she won't be out for long, and if she is, you can wake her up and go to the garage”.

“Don't worry about it, Y/N. Go do your jobs and I'll take care of my niece”, Flo winked at Lando, who blushed harder at the nickname, feeling a tingle of pride on his chest. Every reminder that he had the girl of his dreams beside him was enough to make him giggly like a little boy.

“Then off we go to those interviews, my boy”.

Lando had only a few pre-race interviews and media duties before getting to concentrate on the race. After that, he solely focused on getting calm, knowing everything about tonight was under his control.

“Someone wants to see you before you get in the car”, Cisca announced, entering the garage where her son was talking to his engineers, with Olivia in her arms. His eyes softened to see her, with a beautiful smile on his face.

“Good luck, uncle Lando”, she leaned into his arms and he easily got a grip of her tiny body, pulling her for a hug. He felt her lips pressing over and over again on his cheek, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“Thank you. I love you so much, my sweet girl”, his voice bargained on his throat, but he was strong enough to contain his emotions.

Y/N was just passing through the garage when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her, so she rushed to join their hug, making Ollie giggle. Lando pulled his girlfriend for a sweet kiss as she smiled against his lips.

“Baby, I love you so much”, she said. “And I'll be cheering as much as I can with this little one right here”.

“I'm glad to have you both here. Tonight is a little more special because I have my entire family here. Nothing could ever beat this feeling”.

“Don't get emotional now, you wanker. Get in that car and make us proud!”, Y/N joked, making Lando laugh. 

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. Hopefully with two trophies for us”, he pressed another kiss to Y/N's lips and one more on Ollie's forehead before giving the little girl back to her mother. “I love you”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan”.

Y/N could barely breathe once Lando was inside the car. She held tightly onto Olivia, who seemed to get the tense mood, not being the giggly and excited self whenever she was on a race track. But Norris did well, held his pole position perfectly, but it was still challenging for him to keep it throughout the race. Yet, on the last lap, he had an eight-second gap from P2 and was first to see the checkered flag. P1 – and fastest lap, as a bonus.

Lando Norris is a World Champion.

Y/N had been crying for the last ten laps of the race, knowing deep inside her that he was going to do this. The perfect race to end the perfect year. Olivia raised her spirits through the race as well, shouting for Lando and excitedly clapping her hands, jumping up and down, whenever he did good. Domination, from beginning to the end. What a way to win a championship.

Lando shouted a lot on the radio and celebrated it a lot when he was out of the car. But he only allowed himself to cry when he finally saw Y/N, crying at his achievement, clearly very emotional with the ending of the year. So many years battling for this moment, and yet here they are. It’s impossible not to get emotional at this. 

He held very tightly onto his girlfriend as they silently cried together, too emotional to even think about speaking. Y/N was the first one to break the silence, making Lando cry even more, dawning on him the achievement he just conquered.

“Congratulations, World Champion Lando Norris”, she whispered in his ear. “You finally did”.

“We finally did it”, he corrected, pulling back from the hug and holding her face between his hands. “We. I couldn’t have done it without you”.

“I love you so much”, she declared, pulling him for a kiss on the cheek, that made him smile widely. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You deserve all of this, all this glory, everything”.

“So do you”, he pecked her lips for a brief second and smile. “I love you too”.

“Uncle Lando!”, a little voice called from behind them, and Olivia was rushing towards him with Max right behind her, not getting to keep their hands together as they walked through the crowd. Lando immediately extended his arms to pull Ollie from behind the fence to hug him. “You won!”

“I won, baby girl. Did you see it? Uncle Lan did this for you”, he bumped her nose, making her smile. Ollie whipped away his tears to give him a kiss. “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so glad you were here to see me win”.

“I love you too”.

Lando pulled Y/N closer so they could share a group hug and never felt so at peace. This year, he got everything he ever wished for: a family of his own and the glory of being a Formula 1 World Champion. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he knew it couldn’t. If he died tomorrow, he knew he would go happily, knowing he achieved everything he ever wanted in life.

“You need to go to the podium”, Y/N whispered in his ear, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle. “Lando, they are going to get me killed”.

“Shut up, just a second longer”, he buried his face in her neck, making her shiver in contact with his breathing on her skin. “I think I earned the privilege of having a few more seconds with my family right now”.

But Lando was soon dragged to the podium, not before he hugged his parents, siblings and friends though. Lucky enough, they got to postpone the ceremony for a few minutes, just so he could meet everyone that mattered before the podium. Eventually, he had to go get his trophy. And while he was standing on the top step of the podium, watching the crowd cheer for his first championship, he wondered what the next challenge would be. More wins? A second championship? 

“Now, what?”, he whispered to himself.

Once glance at Y/N and Olivia, right on the ground, filming him as the British National Anthem played in the background, he knew what the future reserved for him. And he already enjoyed it.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[hamliet]

Derry Girls: A Masterclass in Detailed, Thematic Writing

Several years after the end, I finally watched Derry Girls, and it's become one of my favorite shows. Not only for the way it captures the absolutely unhinged aspects of Irish families (askmehowiknow) but for the sheer writing skill.

The vast majority of the episodes are laugh-out-loud hilarious, while also offering insightful commentary on the Troubles and on humanity's foibles as a whole. The characters are allowed to be human and act in unlikable, unsanitized ways, and to still be human and come back from that. (Almost like a metaphor for the Troubles or something.)

The story is also incredibly detailed; for example, when the girls are accused of killing a nun and Erin points out the nun was like, 98 years old and askes "might that shed some light on the situation?" there's an hourglass behind Sister Michael--emphasizing the idea that her time was up. Even more than that... the window is behind the hourglass, literally shining a light on it.

But that's a micro level. On a macro level, I also appreciated the way the story discusses the political backdrop that is part of its premise. Even as Erin, Michelle, James, Clare, and Orla grow up in a place that's been in a state of low-level warfare for decades, they live full lives. In fact, that's kinda the point.

Case in point: episode 4 of the first season, wherein Erin gets an exchange student from Chernobyl. The way the Northern Irish in general treat the Ukrainians is hilariously awful and patronizing, believing that they are giving them a respite from the troubles "over there" while Northern Ireland isn't in a much better state. But, as Sister Michael assures the Ukrainian students, the Irish troubles don't matter because "we're the goodies."

This line gets to the heart of what the episode is saying about political divisions and the way people view an "other." Everyone sees themselves as the "goodies." Because of that, they don't self-examine and wind up hurting the people they see themselves as wanting to help/save with their ignorance. It's a paradoxical egotistical (and frankly teenage) worldview that is also unwilling to look critically at oneself. The focus on their own perceptions over focusing on the actual humanity of the other results in ruining gifts that could come with cross-culture interaction, as seen in how Erin's misunderstandings and petty jealousy of Katya leads to her literally ruining a surprise gift Katya had prepared.

And the end of the episode also comments thematically on the story. One of the Ukrainian boys turns out not to be Ukrainian after all--he's actually Irish and from just down the road. He just didn't know how to say that. The ironic message is clear: despite differences in culture and views, they are actually all human beings, and assumptions make it hard for people to speak. If they could actually talk openly and without presumptions about who is "good" and who is "bad," they could prevent and solve a lot of problems.

This kind of background, symbolic commentary on the Troubles continues in just about every episode of the series. For example, even after the ceasefire, season 3 has an episode where it's discussed how negotiations are stalling, and the entirely of the rest of the episode takes place on a train that stalls between two separate places.

The Troubles are always something affecting their lives, but the only time the Troubles ever become the main story is in the finale episode. Which is also an episode that makes everyone cry. Michelle's brother is finally mentioned for the first time the entire series, yet it doesn't feel like a retcon so much as a recontextualization, and again mirrors how a lot of society (and Michelle's own family) have treated those who murdered others during the conflict.

Erin and James' relationship also works as a metaphor for the Troubles--an Irish Catholic girl and an English boy. Earlier in season 3, after they finally kiss, they're told they can't be together, that it's wrong, and that it'll create problems for everyone around them. Michelle doesn't want things to change. And Erin agrees that it's not good to pursue something.

But, in the final scenes, as Erin prepares to vote in the Good Friday Agreement and talks to James, she directly states she thinks things can't stay the same forever--thereby countering what she said to reject James earlier:

There's a part of me that wishes everything could just stay the same. That we could all just stay like this forever. There's a part of me that doesn't really want to grow up. I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for the world. But things can't stay the same, and they shouldn't. No matter how scary it is, we have to move on, and we have to grow up, because things... well, they might just change for the better. So we have to be brave. And if our dreams get broken along the way... we have to make new ones from the pieces.

Symbolically, also, given that we know the outcome of the Good Friday Agreement, I think it's pretty clear Erin and James end up together even if we're not directly shown it.

That the last shot of the episode (besides the funny epilogue) is Grandda Joe, one of the eldest characters, helping his youngest toddler granddaughter Anna leap over a threshold as they leave the voting station, is also incredibly clear in its symbolism.

Erin: People died. Innocent people died, Grandda. They were someone's mother, father, daughter, son. Nothing can ever make that okay. And the people who took those lives, they're just gonna walk free? What if we do it, and it's all for nothing? What if we vote yes and it doesn't even work? Grandda Joe: And what if it does? What if no one else has to die? What if this all becomes a--a ghost story you'll tell your wee-un's some day? A ghost story they'll hardly believe?

I dunno, I think this is a sentiment we need more of in the world. A peaceful future means taking risks and accepting that punitive justice will not be perfectly doled out; however, if you allow more people to be hurt, is that not also injustice? It's a paradox that the story leaves us without a dogmatic answer to (for example, we never find out if Michelle's brother gets released), but it's also hopeful--because we know that the Good Friday Agreement largely worked.

(For further analysis of the final scene, I recommend PillarofGarbage's analysis on YouTube!)

[daenysx]

hi angel! a drabble about yapper gf with remus if you’d please <3

hi, gorgeous, thank you so much for requesting!! i'm sorry this is short but this was all i could do and i wanted to answer as soon as i can <3333

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

"and then i was supposed find who mr. cole is, everyone was saying he was like the most important person in the office, so i felt really nervous. like, if he asks me something and i can't answer? can you imagine how bad it would be?"

"yes, dove." remus answers. "but why can't you answer?"

"because- these are intimidating people, remus. what if i say something stupid and ruin my chances? god, i felt so stressed, my stomach was aching."

remus hands you your cup of tea. you take a slow sip, your throat feels a bit raw but you need to tell every detail of your first day at the office to your boyfriend. you texted him when you can but of course it wasn't enough to let him know everything.

"so, you found mr. cole?" remus asks, rubbing your thigh with a big hand.

"yes. turns out he's actually nice, i asked him a few things about my work and he always answered with a smile. he told someone to show me the break room and he wished me good luck."

"that's so nice." remus says. "who was that person he asked, did you get to be friends?"

"i think so." you answer. it's not surprising to remus, you've always been easy to talk to. people love your sunshiny attitude, your ability to find common grounds to say things to them. "her name is victoria, i think it's a really nice name, so i told her that. she showed me the break room and how to work the coffee machine in case i need it. she was super nice, she told me all the basics to get used to the people in the office."

"i think you'll do perfect." remus says.

"you're being so nice to me, but i can't be so nice." you say with a small pout. "i mean, i'm always a bit worried to do something wrong, and i don't know the place so well now that i'm new. i don't wanna do something i don't mean to by accident. or you know, getting into someone's way. or being known the wrong way. it's like a nightmare, i always try to keep my cool. like, i'm trying to walk in the office with my heels and i look so confident, right? if only they knew what i was thinking in real."

at this point remus has to cup your cheeks and kiss you soundly. do you realize how sweet you're being? you immediately give in to the kiss, your hands stroking his hair to keep him close to you. you wish it could be possible to have him with you in the office, too. you could just get a kiss and your mood would be fixed.

"i wish we could do this in the office, too." he needs to know what you think, so you tell him. "i would be less nervous."

remus chuckles, his thumb drawing circles on your cheek. "we can try." he says. "but i'd hate if mr. cole finds out. what would he think of his new employee then?"

"that she's in love with a gorgeous, angel boy?"

"come here." he says. he will kiss you for hours if that's what it takes for you to stop being so sweet. his poor heart will not take it.

[baby-tini]

𝓖𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓸

Manjiro Sano- It would be really hard too get the tattoo, muchless surprise him with it. Especially when you're always, either with him or under constant surveillance and one of those people that have eyes on you 24/7 is Sanzu, Mikeys loyal dog. So, there's no way, you're going anywhere and Sanzu or at least one of his executives not know about it. But, if you do manage too slip away unnoticed, you have very little time too get that tattoo, before Mikey tears all of Japan apart looking for you. It'd be best too get the tattoo somewhere it's not's not immediately noticeable, like on the back of your neck, like Mikey has, or in between your breasts. When you do decide too show Mikey though, he'd stare at you for a few seconds, then look at the tattoo and repeat, doing that for a good couple minutes before grabbing you and bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you, keeping his eyes looked on the tattoo as he cums in you. You now belong to Manjiro Sano for life, you can never leave him, the proof is forever inked on your body. Sanzu Haruchiyo- He was actually the one too propose the idea of you getting the tattoo, stating that your love for him should be evidential, should be permanent. There's no going alone or in secret, he's with you constantly and if he can't be, he has cameras and eyes on you constantly, maybe even a little tracking device implant in your neck, but you'll never know that. He'd want you too get the tattoo either on your inner thigh or on your lower back, right above you ass. He'd be the one too find the tattoo artist, which, will 100% be a woman, he refuses too let a man see you like that, muchless touch you, he doesn't care if it's strictly professional, it's not happening, he might even do the tattoo himself honestly. After you get that tattoo, he expects that place too be exposed constantly, if it's on your lower back, you better become very familiar with low-rise pants or if it's on your inner thigh, you're wearing short skirts or shorts forever. He dares someone too look at you, he doesn't mind ruining his clean suit for you, his little angel. Kakucho Hitto- He, in all honestly, would not like it, at all. He doesn't want you involved in any of his work, in anyway. He doesn't even like that the other executives know about you. He knows what having that tattoo means, he signed up for that, but you? You're his perfect little angel, his sweet girl, you don't belong anywhere near a gun or have your ears tainted with the stories of what he's done, especially if you've seen something, you're too good for the life he leads, he wants you away from it as much as possible. So, for you too get that inked on your body, it terrifies him. You can immediately tell how he feels when you show him because his eyes go empty, like he just lost something of great importance. He pleaded with you for minutes too stop joking, please tell him you didn't, please tell him it's fake. When you shake your head no, to all of his worried questions, his voice breaks as he drags you into the bathroom, attempting too rub it off with a rag 'till your skin is raw. Takeomi Akashi- Doesn't keep as much surveillance on you as the others, so it'd be relatively easy too surprise him with the tattoo. Doesn't really care if you get it or not but he would think it's sexy too see it on you in any scenario, sex, housework, cooking, doesn't matter he's staring at it with a smirk. Would want you too get it someone very noticeable, like your chest or on your shoulder, it's easy too just slide your shirt down and stare at it, running his thumb over it as he leaves kisses along the outline of the ink. Likes that you'll forever have proof that you belong to him, it's a warning for everyone too stay the fuck away from you, I will say however, the tattoo and the area around it, are constantly covered in hickies, so much so, that sometimes you can barley see the tattoo.

Ran Haitani- Also another one too propose the idea, jokingly at first, but he grows very excited, in more ways then one, when you agree to the idea. He takes you too get it done, telling you where you should get it, which place would look best. He'd want you too get it on the front of your neck or just under your tits. Doesn't matter where you get it though because that's automatically his new favorite place too cum. He'd always have you in positions where he can see the tattoo, it genuinely makes him cum quicker. With the permanency that you belong to him, gets him hard in seconds, the following week after you get the tattoo, he's constantly having sex with you. Fucking you anywhere and everywhere he can get you, he doesn't care who's around, if he can get a quickie in while he stares at the tattoo, he absolutely will, shamelessly at that. Rindou Haitani- He wouldn't mind if you got the tattoo, wouldn't verbally tell you too get it but he wouldn't be mad if you did it. Especially if you got the tattoo on the front of your neck, like his, but because his brother also has the tattoo, he'd want you too get his name under the tattoo. He wouldn't mind if you just ditched the tattoo idea and just got his name. Thinks it'd be sexy if you got on your hip, especially while you were wearing low-rise shorts, he's have his hands on your hips more then usual, and that's saying something. Where ever you get it though, much like his brother, whenever he sees it, he gets hard rather quickly, eagerly pulling you with him towards a barley private room so he can jerk his dick while eyeing your tattoo. He, and Ran, are also big braggers and would be so cocky about, how much you love him. Kokonoi Hajime- Thinks it's cute that you wanna get the tattoo and play gangster, he knew you wanted too get it when he caught you, multiple times, eyeing his own tattoo. He also has complete access to your search history and call log, so when he found you calling multiple tattoo shops, he knew. He'd let you get the tattoo but he'd want it too be non-permanent, drawing it on you with marker but if you wanted a more.. permanent end-game, he'd take you too get it. He has more then enough money too get it lasered off for you. He'd want you too get it somewhere that it could be easily covered with clothes. Like your thigh or high up on your arm, stating that he didn't need other people too know, he is the only one allowed too see it. He does buy you the best creams and lotions, helping you take care of the tattoo, making sure it doesn't get infected. Kanji Mochizuki- Also another that wouldn't want you too get it, but he's not as reluctant as Kakucho, simply because he sees it in a different light. What Kakucho sees as a magnet for danger, Mochi sees it as a warning to others that you are not meant too be messed with. Would take you too get the tattoo but he'd need some convincing, valid convincing. He'd want you too get it under your collar bone or on your rib cage, somewhere it can be covered but easily accessible to him and for him, only for him. He's got a few pictures of you in his phone, in very compromising positions, with the tattoo being on full display, that's what he uses too get off too when he's away.