#i had to fucking reverse engineer my way to that word

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

I hate crustaceans because secretly I wish I were as cool as crustaceans

This Friday's meme is: the perfect being

[vettelsvee]

THIS IS MUCH BETTER THAN DRIVING | Sebastian Vettel

Red Bull (2011) Sebastian Vettel x Female best friend, Red Bull race engineer intern!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb helping you to improve your driving skills ends up in you both teasing each other and him teaching you how to masturbate (and then you beg him to eat you out) ↳ Part of HISTORY SERIES

WORD COUNT: 5133

WARNINGS: Smut (guided masturbation with Seb teaching how to do it, and oral sex, female receiving and teasing of male receiving at the end), curse words, lots and lots of teasing and sexual tension. Also a bit fluffy with Seb being a golden retriever :)

VEE'S NOTES: Seb content from Race of Champions has me over the moon. I'm not going thought a nice time in uni and my personal life and overall feel like a failure not gonna lie, but here I am! Apologies for not having updated in quite a long time but didn't feel in the mood to do so and didn't have time as well, so hope you like this one <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

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

You had a feeling long before Seb came to your house that he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. However, it wasn’t until you saw how effortlessly he blended in not just with your family, but also with Hanna, his ex girlfriend, when you all met up at Heppenheim before leaving for Hungary, that you realized you didn’t want to waste a single second away from the Red Bull driver.

That’s why, when he decided, almost impulsively, to take a flight at the beginning of August with just a suitcase, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

You were in complete shock when you saw Seb standing at your front door, unable to believe he had traveled all the way to your country without telling you. More than that, you had no idea how he managed to keep it a secret, just so he could spend almost a month by your side. Your uncles reacted in a similar way, though not as positively.

If it hadn’t been for your aunt allowing him to stay in your room, without caring that you’d be sharing the same bed, your uncle would have undoubtedly sent him to a hotel since he had made it very clear that his house was not one.

During the nearly month-long stay at the Y/L/N household in Linz, the plan remained intact, though with small adjustments along the way. Weekly trips to the cinema became a routine. You both started acting like a couple, even if you weren’t one… yet. Grocery shopping together almost every day, looking after your younger sister as if she was your own daughter...

And then there was the driving test. Seb somehow convinced you to take the practical exam before your theory license expired. You had agreed, reluctantly, but only under one condition: he would be the one to teach you.

And so, there you were. The roles reversed. You, behind the wheel. Sebastian Vettel, Formula 1 world champion chasing his second championship, in the passenger seat, giving you instructions and trying to stay patient. But judging by the way the car jerked every time you overcorrected in the practice lot, it was obvious: you worked much better the other way around, giving him instructions on the radio during Grand Prix weekends.

You were good at a lot of things. Driving just wasn’t one of them.

“Why the fuck does the car keep stalling?!”

The frustrated hits against the steering wheel, along with the sudden brake, made Seb grip the headrest of his seat as if that would somehow help him.

“Relax, Y/N. You just need to release the clutch a little more smoothly, not so abruptly,” he corrected you, hoping he was right. “Rushing it won’t make the car go any faster.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, expert,” you huffed, restarting the engine.

It was almost funny how you were in an empty street at the very end of your homwtown with barely any people or traffic, yet you were still more nervous than you should be, losing the self-control you always claimed to have.

You had no idea what you were going to do in two days when you had to take the test with the examiner sitting behind your driving instructor.

“I don’t get why this is so complicated,” you nodded toward the uphill road in front of you. “You make it look so easy…”

“With the Red Bull car or my regular one?”

“Both,” you confirmed. “God, I’m so clumsy…”

He barely held back a laugh because, despite your frustration, you looked adorable. And, at the same time, the whole situation felt too surreal to be real.

He knew you could do it. You just needed to trust yourself a little more.

“You’ll get better with practice. Practice makes perfect. Besides, the driving test is just a formality: passing doesn’t mean you actually know how to drive,” he added.

“Are you telling me that if I somehow pass next Thursday, they’ll give me a license to drive alone, even though I don’t really know how?”

“Well, if you say it that way…”

“Then what’s the point of all this?” you muttered. “Are you going to keep driving with me until I do everything right?”

He told you with a low voice that yes, even though he was really thinking no. And, secretly, hoping that you’d manage to stop correctly at the stop sign on the hill.

“Listen, Seb,” you called, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “If I do this correctly, you owe me a kiss,” you motioned toward the stop sign.

He raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement flashing across his face.

He would give you whatever you wanted if you did it right. And if you didn’t… 

Well, he’d still give it to you.

“Seriously, Y/N? Exchanging a proper start for a kiss?”

“What did you expect then, a million euros?”

Seb didn’t answer because, honestly, he had expected a different kind of suggestion… but it’s not like he didn’t like the one you proposed.

“Sounds good to me,” he finally answered.

“Is that all you’re going to say? I’m sure you thought I’d suggest not just a kiss but a full session of undetermined length.”

Even with your eyes still fixed on the road, the playful glint in them was undeniable, and the way your cheeks were turning red only confirmed the obvious: you were starting to tease him.

“Oh, I already took that for granted. That was always going to happen after dinner, sweetheart. It’s been our routine every night…”

“Since we first tried it at the cinema a week ago,” you finished for him.

You continued driving, and this time, without a trace of nerves or stalls, you ascended the hill effortlessly.

You pressed the brake, turned to face him, and a knowing smile curled on your lips.

“Looks like you really have everything under control now,” he acknowledged, making your smile widen even more.

“So… are you going to give me my kiss?”

Tilting his head slightly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned toward you, slow yet eager. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and with your hands gripping your seat, you closed the remaining space between you.

What caught you completely off guard was that he ended the kiss before either of you truly wanted to.

“That’s it? you asked, a little disappointed. “I thought I deserved a little… more.”

And just like that, playful you was back at it again.

“Oh, yeah? And how much more are we talking about?” Seb asked, mimicking your voice.

“Not too much. Just enough to prove to me that driving fast cars isn’t the only thing you’re good at.”

The driver raised an eyebrow, pretending not to know where you were going with this. You shot him a mischievous smile, one that told him you wanted something more. Something that maybe, just maybe… you weren’t quite ready for yet.

Or at least, Seb didn’t think you were.

“Why don’t we head back home, sunshine?” you suggested.

You were bored of driving around in circles. He probably was too, but your sudden suggestion caught him off guard. He glanced at his phone, checking the time, and deep down, it made sense. It was almost 7 PM, dinnertime. And you never, ever, delayed a meal.

“Sure, but let me drive,” Seb declared. There was no way in hell he was letting you take the wheel for the trip back.

“No,” you stated firmly. “I have to pass the test.”

“And you think driving illegally is the best idea you’ve ever had? Being risky is going to help you pass?”

“Yes.”

Y/N Y/L/N, of course, the queen of stubbornness.

He eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly, already knowing it was a terrible idea.

And, of course, it was.

Every turn you took, every straight path you followed, kept him on high alert. The streets were narrow, probably too narrow for someone with almost no driving experience. His fingers clutched the edge of his seat, though he tried his best to appear unfazed. The last thing he wanted was to show any fear, but every small jolt you made caused one in him as well.

“Do it right, Y/N,” he said when you ignored a yield sign, nearly colliding with an oncoming car.

The distressed sigh you let out told him he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. But it was the sharp gasp you let out when you scraped the side mirror of the car next to you, followed by an irritating screeching noise, that sent Seb into full-blown panic mode.

“Seb!”

Without a second thought, he unbuckled and jumped out, yanking open the driver’s side door. You were frozen, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, if you weren’t already in one.

“Y/N, calm down. It’s okay”, 

Yeah, sure, as if a girl without a driver’s license damaging someone else’s car was totally fine. 

“You need to get out of the car, sweetheart,” Seb told you with steady voice, calming his nerves.

Shaking, sniffling, and wiping at the steady stream of tears falling down your face, you barely seemed to process his words. He forced himself to stay calm as he gently unbuckled your seatbelt, his hands steadying yours as they trembled uncontrollably.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmured, guiding you to the passenger seat. “Buckle up. It’s okay, alright? We’re going home.”

The alarm was still blaring, and the panic hadn’t left your face. He knew he had to act fast, and although what he was about to do wasn’t exactly the right thing, it was the only solution he could think of at the moment.

He silently promised himself he’d come back tomorrow to pay for the damages, pretending that he had been the one responsible for them.

Once he was seated behind the wheel, he wasted no time getting the car moving, maybe a little too fast, because in a matter of minutes you were back home.

“Seb, I’m going to jail!” you wailed as you stumbled out of the car. “They’re going to fail me when they find out what happened!”

“Hey, don’t be like that, you’re not going to jail, and you’re not failing any test,” Seb reassured, stepping beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It was just a small mistake. Better now than during the actual test.”

You nodded through your sobs, and he could only pray that your uncle wouldn’t be too mad about the scratches on his car because, as far as everyone else was concerned, Sebastian Vettel had been the one driving your uncle’s car the entire time.

"Darling, everyone makes mistakes," he continued, "and the important thing is that you learn from them. You're not going to jail for breaking a mirror, okay?" You nodded again. "We probably just need to talk to the car’s owner and that's it, really"

"What owner of what car do you need to talk to, Vettel?"

The door swung open abruptly, revealing Hans Y/L/N, your uncle, standing with his arms crossed and a completely serious expression. You started to hesitate, stepping closer to me in a rather suggestive way, making it more than clear that you were guilty of something.

"It was my fault, Mr. Y/L/N," Seb answered quickly. "I accidentally hit a car's mirror," he began lying, "and no matter how much we've searched, we haven't found the owner. Tomorrow, I'll go and take responsibility for the damage, and I'll also take the car to the shop to get the scratches fixed," he explained.

Your uncle gave him an unfriendly look. He raised his eyebrow, and if there was one thing Seb'd learned these past few days, it was that said gesture meant an interrogation was about to begin.

"So, you decided to play Brian O’Conner from those Vin Diesel movies Amelie’s obsessed with, huh? What exactly were you doing with my car? Or, better yet, inside my car?"

"We were just heading home, sir. I had no other intention beyond taking your niece for a drive around the town."

"And you don’t have other intentions that include to fuck her? Because that's often what your looks suggest."

You tensed beside him. Deep down, you knew that comment hadn’t been meant to be mean, but at the same time it annoyed Seb that he had made it.

Johanna, your aunt, appeared on the scene, and you both couldn't do anything but mentally thank her for showing up before Seb said something inappropriate.

"Leave the kids alone, Hans. Sebastian is not like that with my Y/N," the woman stated, shooting daggers at her husband as she positioned herself between you both. "Now, are you two hungry?"

"God, yes," Seb answered.

"No. I'm going to bed."

With that final sentence following his, you lowered your head and silently headed upstairs directly to your room.

"What's wrong with her now?" your uncle motioned toward the path you had just taken.

"She had a bad day," Seb replied, ignoring Hans' tone. "Would it be possible for me to take Y/N’s dinner up to her room?" Then, he hesitantly asked your aunt.

She nodded understandingly and quickly began placing two plates of mashed potatoes, boiled sausages, peas, a few pieces of bread and utensils on a tray.

"Don’t do anything crazy, Vettel," your uncle told Seb, calmly r. "The mashed potatoes are for eating, not for smearing all over my niece and then—"

"Hans, that's enough!"

Seb climbed the stairs with the dinner tray in hand, worried about you and hoping you weren’t hearing the argument your aunt and uncle had started in the kitchen.

When he knocked on your door, you opened it. Your expression was something Seb couldn't quite define, but it was definitely different from before. It was more… happy. You eagerly closed the door, and as soon as he set the food down on your desk and turned back to ask if you were okay, you threw yourself at him.

You started kissing Seb like your life depended on it. This was the first time your kisses didn’t show love. This time, they were something else. Lust and the desire to take a step forward in your still unofficial relationship were what made you be devouring each other hungrily, as if your lives depended on it.

"But weren’t you…?" Seb tried to ask, pulling back slightly.

"The only sadness I faked was not being able to kiss you like we just did before," you stated. "I wanted this, not a fucking argument about a broken mirror with my crazy old uncle."

Seb started wondering what was behind that confidence you had suddenly gained in just minutes.

Carefully, Seb pressed you against the wall. His hands moved from your face to your waist, beginning to explore up and down. Yours remained on the German’s chest, but as soon as he started sucking on your neck, they left that position and went straight to his hair, playing with it. Uncontrollable moans escaped your lips, growing faster and louder, and Seb had no choice but to not just ask but beg you to be quiet. 

You couldn’t get caught in the act, especially not after today's little accident.

He could see how your nipples, previously hidden, were already visible behind the fabric of your dress. Seb kissed you again to now focus on your breasts. He massaged them slowly, almost to torture you, and with the tip of his forefingers he ran the aureole of each one of them and then went on to stimulate your nipples even more.

“God, Seb, don't stop... Go on… Don’t you dare to stop…”

With gasping sighs, like your breathing, your pleas made Seb want to make you his. To lay you down on the bed, climb on top of you to position his member at your entrance and take you slowly, leisurely, making you at last one in the way he had been wanting so much lately. 

However, Seb knew you weren't ready for that yet.

“We have to stop, babe,” he whispered, abandoning what heI was doing to focus solely on looking at you. “I want you to be sure about this. I don't want our first time…”

“Seb, I am. I need you to fuck me,” you interrupted, clearly begging him for it.

Hearing you talk so dirty made Seb feel the size of my cock grow dizzily under his boxer shorts. He had never heard you talk like that, and he was more than convinced that he had just unlocked a new guilty pleasure from you.

“Please, Sebastian, fuck me….”

Seb tried to think rationally, but it was becoming increasingly impossible. He couldn't do it; not when he felt that she you not yet recovered from all you had been through after dating Mark, and were getting carried away with excitement.

Your eyes were fixed on his, and all they gave off was desire. You could have sworn Seb’s showed the same thing. He wanted, more than anyone, for you to take the next step, but one of you had to keep it cool so as not to hurt the other. 

It hurt him, for the most part, to know that you were behaving that way because you felt you owed it to him for your previous reaction when you arrived home.

Anyway, that made you try to think as fast as he could, looking for the most viable alternative. Seb knew you had to explore each other little by little, and that was supposed to suit you....

There, the idea that he considered to be the idea had just popped into his mind.

Carefully, Seb pulled you away from him. With your hair disheveled, but still beautiful, and with your arms crossed and your face unfriendly, you stood next to the bed. Your eyes threw what seemed to be invisible knives at Seb. He ignored that, and positioned himself on your bed so that his back was completely against the headboard and your legs were spread wide enough for you to sit between them.

“Sit here,” he spoke to you as calmly as he could while controlling his excitement and taking off at the same time his shirt and belt since he couldn't stand the heat anymore.

He didn't seem to understand what you had said, so you repeated it again to him:

“I want you to fuck me, Sebastian, not play games to keep me entertained,” you replied, not seeming to understand what he was getting at.

Seb didn't answer you because I knew that, if he did, you would end up getting into a quarrel in which both of you would come out badly: you, for having spoken badly to Seb for no reason, and him for having made you feel uncomfortable when the only thing he want was, precisely, the opposite.

“Will you let me give you a blowjob at least?” you suggested again as if you felt it was a way to pay for something.

Again, no answer from his side. Instead, he simply tried not to say yes and just avoided making eye contact with you as he repositioned himself a little better.

“Seb, please…”

“We have time for everything, love, so you don't want to be in a hurry to try to please me or do other things,” he explained. “Sit here between my legs, please.”

As he thought, you had regretted it. The calm tone of his voice caused you to uncross your arms and change your expression to a more relaxed one. Seb could have sworn it was a very happy one. You ended up positioning yourself where he told you, dropping backwards onto his chest and trying your best to not hurt him. 

“Are you wearing underwear?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Could you take it off for me, love? “

Without answering him, knowing exactly what he was referring to, you arched your back slightly and took your panties off, letting them drop to the floor shyly. Then, you leaned back against Seb and, him, carefully, spread your legs a little.

“I need you to stand up a little more, honey,” he said, and you did exactly that.” Now, give me your hand.”

“Why…?” you questioned, sounding a bit insecure.

“I'm going to teach you how to pleasure yourself so that when I can't pleasure you, which I hope is never, you can do it for me.”

Seb’s confession left you with no words. You raised your head to look at him, probably not very convinced of what he had just told you.

“There's no need for this, Seb. What happened before was just…”

“I know you want to do this as much as I do, Y/N, but I want you to do it before I do it to you,” Seb interrupted you. “But really, if you want us to stop all you have to do is tell me.

You said nothing else. Shyly, you gave Seb your left hand and, as soon as he took it, he left a kiss on the top as he squeezed it tightly. He left another on you forehead, and he heard you catch your breath as you began to gently direct it below your stomach.

“Seb, can I stay dressed?” you blurted out of nowhere.

Seb knew why you had just said that, and he couldn't help but feel bad for you. 

“Sure, yeah, whatever makes you feel more comfortable darling,” he replied, trying not to break down because it hurt him to see you so insecure. “I'm always going to respect your boundaries, Y/N. Really, if you don't want to do this...”

“No,” you cut him off, stroking his cheek. ”I want to. I want to be yours in every way, and this is one of them. It's just that..”

“It's just what, Y/N?”

“Forget it…”

After that last word, he again sought approval in your gaze. With a nod, Seb brought your hands to the inside of your pussy and began to gently run your fingertips over the labia majora.

“My advice is to start here first. Little by little…”

“And no hurry,” you finished for him.

“Exactly. Once you think the time is right, move on to the labia minora, which is this,” Seb then ran your fingers over the outer area of your intimacy, a soft moan coming out of your mouth. “Give yourself love, find what you like, and from there, play with yourself however you want.”

For the next few minutes he changed rhythms, directions, and he would even go so far as to say Seb tried new things he thought you might like for when we had more contact.

His index finger, though really both of yours, went all at once to your clit, which already seemed to be a little swollen with excitement.

“This little guy is becoming your newest best friend, alright?” 

Your gasping moan gave him the reason and enough encouragement to start massaging it slowly and torturously.

“This is what will give you the most pleasure,” Seb explained, trying to increase the rhythm a little. “When you have stimulated the previous areas, go to this one.”

“And can't I go to this one directly?” you asked curiously, playing with your innocence.

“You can, but you won't be as wet as you are now.”

Seb put aside the rubbing to the spot to run it lightly over your pussy, which was wetter than he was expecting.

“See? This is what playing with you has done to you, love,”he told you.

“And can't I do it any other way?”

“Of course. There are a thousand more ways to make you cum, Y/N,” both of your fingers returned to the bundle of nerves. The speed increased, and your gasping breaths began to take over. ”Trust me when I’ll be showing you every single one of the ways when I make you cum.”

You shared no more words. You simply confined yourselves to your very own pleasure. 

Seb’s movements were faster, and also slower. The squeeze to the clit went from more to less, the other way around, and you traced so many geometric shapes on it that you were sure you even made some of them up.

Seb felt his dick getting more and more bigger, and he knew that was only going to have more than consequences, but he didn't give a fuck in that moment.

He just wanted to make you cum and make you feel in ways you probably didn’t feel like while dating Mark.

Your moans turned to screaming whispers in a low tone. You couldn’t stop moaning Seb’s name, and you felt like you were about to pass out. He knew you would go further when, with your free arm, you reached around Seb’s neck and tried to grab his hair, but failed in the attempt because you arched your back too much from the pleasure. All Seb could do was kiss you in the meantime to silence your upcoming moans, who almost made you scream.  

The moment you cummed and moaned loudly his name, between kisses, he knew he had made the right decision.

“Fuck, Seb…” was all you could say as you recovered.

“Did you like it? Did we do it right?”

“Is this... having an orgasm? I didn’t have the same ones with… you know.”

The embarrassment with which you wanted to know that made Seb want to hug you. He ended up doing so because deep down, you had him on your feet.

He was crazy over you, and moments like these made him crazy about waiting for the right moment to ask you the question.

“Yes, that's having an orgasm,” he confirmed.

You stood in front of Seb, sitting cross-legged, looking at him as if you wanted to tell him something. Then, you shook your head and hid your face behind your hands, a bit ashamed of the thoughts you were having.

“What's the matter, honey?” Seb asked, pulling your hands away and making you look at him.

“I'm so embarrassed to ask you this, but... do you think you could do it now... with your mouth?”

“You don't even have to ask me that, love. I'm here to do whatever you want. I thought you already knew that.”

Seb placed a chaste kiss on your lips. He got off the bed and, carefully, laid you down and gently dragged you so that your legs fell over the edge of the surface. Seb began to leave a trail of kisses on your inner thighs, and your sighs became like music to his ears once again.

Seb noticed how you incorporated a bit, using your elbows as a foothold to see everything.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me, okay?”

You nodded and didn't have to tell him anything else.

Seb wrapped his arms around your legs and ran his tongue over her pussy without previous warning, catching you completely off guard. He noticed how his nose brushed your clit as his tongue was centered on your entrance.

His name, once again, came out of your mouth without any warning, and he loved that.

He devoted himself entirely to devouring you with increasing eagerness, opening and closing his mouth as he filled you with pleasure. Seb massaged your entrance with his tongue. He sucked your bundle of nerves between the strokes of, in that moment, the various letters of the alphabet over it, and did his best not to add his fingers to the equation because it had been enough discovering for that day, and he wanted to take things step by step with you.

Your back arched rather aggressively, and Seb even had to place one of his hands on your lower stomach to keep you on the mattress.

“That's right, babe. You're doing great.”

After leaving you a small kiss where his hand was placed, Seb went back to my work.

Now, his gaze held yours as he ate you like it was a once in a lifetime luxury. Seb could feel that you were just about to cum, and that only made him self-impose an increase in speed.

Seb decided to only move his lips and tongue quickly, focusing exclusively on your clit. You grabbed his hair and pulled his locks, then placed the palm of your hand on his head and brought it even closer, if possible, to your pussy.

No words needed. Seb quickly took the hint. He gripped your waist tightly as he kept your legs from closing, and continued his work.

He looked at you again, his eyes begging, aiming you to cum, to squeal, whatever you wanted, if you wanted to, not caring about what your family thought of what we were doing if they heard you both.

“My God, Sebastian Vettel!”

After those words, writhing as Seb never imagined you would despite being subjected to his grip, he felt your orgasm taking you over.

Seb took the remains of your cum, enjoying the first taste of it. The same happened to you when he kissed you. You tasted yourself for the first time as well and seemed to enjoy it. You got drunk a few nights ago, so you ended up spilling to Seb that Webber had never done anything to please you like what Vettel just did to you, and it was the same with the few guys you hooked up with for a few months.

After sharing a few more kisses, Seb got up and took you by your waist carefully, making you both collapse on the bed. Most of your clothes were still on, and you didn't have, nor did you feel, the need to get rid of them because your intimacy went far beyond your bodies being just one.

“Have these two been good enough for being the first ones?” he wanted to know, referring to the orgasms. He put an arm under your body and almost forced you to snuggle into his chest.

“Good enough?” you lifted your head, staring at himself while putting your lips together. “This is much better than driving, Seb.”

“Does that mean you want to do it again some other time? Or what...?”

“It means it's your turn now,” you declared, sitting up and positioning yourself on your knees between Seb’s legs, playing with the edge of his pants. "Then, we can repeat as many times as you want. The night is long, sunshine, so let me make you feel good now. Don’t I deserve it after being a very, bad girl today?”

[i-like-writing-stuff]

grateful [ five hargreeves x reader ]

“Fancy seeing you here,” You crossed your arms, trying to act natural as the boy before you eyes you curiously.

“In front of the CIA headquarters?” Five mimicked your posture, “Jee, Y/N, fork spotted in the kitchen. What are you doing at my work place?”

You sighed, trying to fight back the urge of rolling your eyes. You were lying to yourself if you wanted to say that Five’s sarcasm actually annoyed you. After all, it was one of the traits you loved about him- surprisingly. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but even if you were actually waiting for him to talk business, you never once missed an opportunity to meet him.

Especially if you weren’t surrounded by your noisy family. The Hargreeves siblings became your family by choice, and as much as you loved each and every single one of them, you couldn’t help but appreciate deeply the one on one time you got to spend with Five.

“I just got off the phone with Luther,” You said, putting your hands in your pockets, “Viktor got kidnapped, Five.”

As soon as those words eat your lips, you saw Five’s expression go from cocky to shocked, to worried and then to shocked once again. You hated you had to be the one to break these news to him, after six years of peace where all of you managed to live normal lives. You hated that you had to see him worried again for his family’s safety, but you had no other choice.

You all had to reunite to save your loved one.

“I’ll drive,” Five nodded, already realizing that the gang would have to get back together.

You and Five met during the JFK mission in 1963, when both of you were working for the Commission. You only heard of him around the work place, but never actually worked together. The Handler assigned you both for the first time to get the assassination done, but one thing led to another and you accidentally woke up in 2019, in your teen body, alongside him.

The rest is history.

As you got into his car, you watched him as he started the engine in silence. He was deep into thought, obviously worried half to death about his brother. You were as well, since Viktor was his first sibling you warmed up to, and honestly it felt surreal that he was in danger again, after six years.

Six years where nothing, and quite literally nothing out of the ordinary happened. After your third attempt at stopping the apocalypse and the Hargreeves losing their powers, you all moved on with your lives, keeping in touch now and then. All nine of you went separate ways, rebuilding your lives. Allison was back to acting, Klaus was finally sober, Diego and Lila were a family with kids, Viktor was running a bar and Luther was working somewhat as an astronaut. Key word, somewhat.

Five became a CIA agent and you were running a marketing agency, so you really only saw the family on holidays or random gatherings. You and him kept in touch the most. You were happy to say that he was your best friend, but sad that nothing more went on. If you were supposed to be together, you would have been by now.

After all, there was this drunken kiss you shared on the night of Luther’s wedding.

“Shut the fuck up, Hargreeves!” You giggled, pointing a finger m at him, “I respect Delores, I swear I do, but I do not understand why in the world she would put up with your ding dong face, honestly.”

“Oh, spare me the reverse psychology in which your jealousy lays, Y/N,” Five smirked, softly waving away your finger in his face.

You were the only ones left on the dance floor, intoxicated over the safe limit. After the whole family went to sleep, the two of you were still left quite energized. You didn’t know if it was because you were sixty year olds back in your teen bodies, or simply too drunk to realize how hyperactive you were, but you were not about to end the night any time soon.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Five, but he definitely could write an entire book of how he grew feelings for you. It all happened at such a slow pace, how could he not? When he first met you in 1963 at the Dealey Plaza, he was immediately taken aback by your quick wit and intellect. He also didn’t think someone who looked so sweet and elegant, like the grandma who would take her grandchildren all the time to fancy restaurants and then bake fresh cookies for them at home, could also be a trained assassin, ready to fight off three people at once wearing dresses and heels.

It was love at first sight for him.

Then, when you kept Delores safe from Hazel and Cha Cha, he realized just how big your heart was. He was completely blown away by the way you held onto the mannequin with one arm, while dodging attacks incoming from both of them.

There was also this moment in 1963 when you held him in your arms after he went on a spree, taking out the entire board of the Commission.

He was so infatuated with every single action of yours, so deeply and intensely in love it was actually pathetic to him, to some degree. Now, as his hands were firmly gripping your waist, swaying your hips in sync to the melody on the speakers, all he wanted to do was feel your lips on his, for a first and last time.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, as your arms were wrapped around his neck. You didn’t know when you got so close to one another, it was all just so natural.

“Ironically enough, you,” He scoffed, making you roll your eyes;

“Only you could make such a romantic comment and at the same time make me want to stomp on your face, Five,” You said amused, shaking your head in disbelief.

Five laughed, looking into your eyes. In his drunken state, he was not thinking rationally as he usually did anymore. He didn’t know for certain if he’d make it out of the apocalypse this time, and after the two attempts at saving the world, the regret of not tasting you was finally getting to him.

He moved his hands up your sides, resting them on your cheeks at last. Rubbing your face gently, Five leaned in to capture your lips, tasting the alcohol you shared all night. You were relieved to finally feel his touch you so deeply craved over the months spent together, pulling him even closer, as if that was possible.

That led to nowhere, unfortunately, as neither of you ever mentioned it again. Like little stupid kids, all these years you both assumed that the other didn’t remember that part, since no one ever brought it up ever again.

“Viktor will be fine, Five,” You broke the silence, watching as his knuckles turned white while gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the green light.

“I just forgot how fucking stressful all this shit was,” Five sighed, letting go, but not looking at you yet, “So stupid.”

“Hey,” You placed a hand on top of his, “We will rescue him and go back to our lives before, okay? Who knows, maybe it’s not even that serious- maybe it’s just some misunderstanding or a real easy mission. We stopped the apocalypse three times, I think some amateur kidnapping will be a walk in the park, okay? Besides, maybe by the time we get there, Viktor will have already handed their asses to each other.”

Five scoffed amused. You did always manage to be the voice of reason in his life whenever the over-thinking got the best of him.

You didn’t have any idea just how grateful he was for you.

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel's arrival in Jackson has the past twenty years of memories spilling into his mind like an uncontrollable flood of pain and regret.

Warnings: Langauge in line with the show, child death, Joel has a peeping tom moment, but we'll have to forgive him. Mentions of virginity.

Word Count: 3.5k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Winter 2023

Joel swears his heart has stopped the moment his eyes meet yours. His name falls from your lips and suddenly he's 35 again, laughing with you in coffee shops and holding you close on his couch during movie nights.

How long had his subconscious wished for over the years? How long had he been yearning like this?

Here you are in Jackson, right in front of him. You're a mere 15 feet from him, dressed in oversized overalls and an old winter coat that's seen better days.

Thick rubber boots are on your feet, giving you the illusion you're taller than you truly are.

Even as you stand there, a shovel in your hands as you clear a horse's stall, you're breathtaking.

Joel stumbles a bit as Ellie's words fall on deaf ears. You're looking at him, examining the man before you. Joel feels the way your eyes slink across his face and down his body, almost as if you didn't recognize him.

He finds himself doing the same to you. Trying to put two and two together. Joel's brain tries to replace the version of you that stands before him with the one that has been living in his mind for the past twenty years.

You had been immortal in his eyes. Forever fresh in your youth, a spirited twenty-something who'd captured his heart oh so long ago.

But now he sees he's wrong in that aspect. The beginnings of wrinkles have started in at your eyes, he can see the faintest of smile lines on your face. If he squints he can even see the beginnings of greys in your hairline. Yes, you're different, yet still so familiar.

"Joel? Hello? Do you know her?" Ellie's voice has him nearly jumping out of skin.

His tongue darts out from his mouth to wet his lips, guilt wells up in his chest, guilt from the past and for what he's about to say. It damn near breaks his heart, but the words come anyway, like vomit he can't control,

"No, I don't know her."

August 29, 2003

The past week had been a blur for Joel. Running around to different job sites and soccer practices and games had both his truck's gas tank and him running on empty.

He hadn't had much time to talk to you recently. Either you'd been busy or he had been. Be it classes or work, responsibilities were catching up to both of you.

Joel had read all your texts and listened to your voicemails. Your girlish voice filled his ears as you left inhumanly long messages to tell him about your entire day. From annoying professors to the fat squirrel that slept in the tree outside your window, you told him your days as if he'd been there as well.

"My birthday is today! I got pizza coming and cheap beer. See you later!"

Your warm voice fills Joel's room as he listens to your message from earlier today. He sighs and falls back onto his bed, his phone beeping to let him know the message was done.

You were so forgiving. Joel knew so many women who'd wring their man a new one if they'd been half as busy as he was this past week.

Your gentle and forgiving nature only reminded him of your youth. How truly young and impressionable you were turning out to be.

Joel ran a hand across his weary face. What the fuck was he doing? Messing around with some college kid? Taking her virginity and then practically playing house with her and Sarah for crying out loud.

Guilt swarmed in his chest as he jumped into the shower, hoping the warm water would clear his head.

It was going on eight thirty by the time he was dried off and dressed.

Joel sat in the driver's seat of his truck, the engine idling loudly as he willed his hand to shift the gear into reverse.

He couldn't do this. He was sure of it now as his sharp gaze stared back in the rearview mirror.

Joel was certain he'd ruin your life if he stuck by your side, fear of his own feelings had him moving. He pulled the keys from the ignition and exited his truck. Slamming the door behind him, he fumbled with the keys to his front door, his mind only replaying one thing.

This was all for the best. For you and for him.

October 2, 2003

He couldn't breathe. It was as if the entire universe was trying to strangle him alive.

His head throbbed as he tried to block out the loud clamor of the military. The whirl of helicopters and the rumble of tanks filled his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Warm blood filled the fresh bandage someone had wrapped around his head just a few moments ago. The wound on his head burned as he squeezed tighter.

Perhaps if he could just shut his eyes tight enough, the nightmare would be over. The smell of diesel filled his nose as he clenched his fists at his side.

If he prayed hard enough, it'd be gone, all of it, the military, the horrible wound on his head, the snarl of whatever monsters were lurking outside this First Aid tent he was stuck lying under.

Joel wanted to go home, to Sarah. He wanted to eat pancakes and watch movies on his couch until she fell asleep in his lap. He wanted to drink coffee while Sarah read the Saturday cartoons in the paper, laughing at the ones she loved.

He wanted to spin you around his kitchen in the middle of the night again, dancing to music only the two of you heard. He missed the sweet smell of your perfume and how it'd cling to the sheets after you left his side to get up for the day.

Joel couldn't breathe, the universe was choking him, strangling him alive, and all he wanted was to go home, home to his girls.

Boston, Fall 2022

Tepid water ran over his hands as he tried to clean the blood from his knuckles. He could hear Tess, rummaging around their tiny apartment, most likely looking for something to take the swelling out of Joe's right hand.

"We've got Asprin that expired back in 06'." She said, entering the bathroom, "Unless you wanted to dip into our stash."

Joel thinks about the large bag of pills under their bed and he shakes his head, They'll need all of those to make enough to buy that battery they'd been after for so long.

He pops an Asprin and lets her bandage his hand, trying to ignore the way his skin stings when she pours a bit of whiskey over the wounds.

"Next time don't do this." She sighs as she finishes dressing his knuckles.

"I wasn't the one who started it." Joel hums

Tess rolls her eyes at his comment.

"You could just walk away, y'know." She points out

"And let the entire QZ think they can get away with talking about you like that? About any woman like that? Those guys are-"

"They're like 17, Joel. Weren't even alive when the world ended. Beating them to a pulp isn't solving anything." Tess chastizes

Joel lets out a slight grunt before following her out of the bathroom. He knew she was right, there wasn't a point in beating up a few kids who didn't know their manners.

"Gonna go look for a new pair of boots, mine are shot." He says as he wanders over to the door, "Y'need anything?"

Her loud no fills his ears as he shuts the door behind him.

The Boston QZ is littered with colorful leaves as Joel walks along the sidewalk. FEDRA officers walk along "patrolling" the area.

The loud whoop of two young kids has his ears perking up as a loud hiss and yelp of an animal follow.

Joel peers down an alleyway to find two young kids, looming over a black cat. They tug at the animal's tail as it swats at them.

"Hey."

The gruffness of his voice bounces off the surrounding buildings. They turn to look at him before glancing at each other.

"Leave it."

The kids scamper off and Joel is met with big green eyes and a loud meow, as if the animal is thanking him.

The cat pads over and slinks between his legs, rubbing its face against Joel's shins. He sighs deeply and bends down a bit, listening to the way his knees pop as he scratches behind the animal's ears. He tries to think of the last time he saw an animal this gentle, had to have been back before everything fell to shit.

The fuzzy image of a fat black cat with green eyes and a gold and green collar fills his mind, followed by the soft cooing of a voice that haunts Joel only in the middle of the night once Tess has fallen asleep.

Joel recoils from the cat as if it's burned him somehow. It meows again but Joel ignores it. He turns from the alley and back onto the main sidewalk. His head spins as if he's got a bad case of vertigo.

You're everywhere all at once. As if it's magic you've taken over Boston. You take over his mind for the first time in so many years. The cool fall breeze sings your name as the trees dance with the idea of you. His head swarms as he tries to push it all back.

The memories, your laughter, your scent, you, it's as if you're back, back from the dead to taunt him. God, he had buried you so long ago, he'd let you go the way he'd let Sarah go. Back in Texas, he'd left both of you there, sitting in the past, untouched and undisturbed by what life was now.

You were a storm he'd never see the end of.

November 2023

Ellie watches as the warm light from the campfire reflects off Joel's face. They were in the middle of no where and her companion and protector had finally given in to the idea of heat in the cold November night.

"You ever have a girlfriend? Or wife?" Ellie asks, her bold voice filling the silence.

It had been a question nagging at her for a while now. Joel just seemed so solitary. She couldn't imagine him with anyone like that.

Joel shoots her a look from across the fire.

She hesitates for a moment before continuing, "Or boyfriend?"

Joel gives her another look as if she's truly losing it. Maybe she was, after all, she'd been stuck with him for months now, and traveling the country was enough to make anyone go mad.

He takes a deep breath before fixing his eyes on the burning logs in front of them.

"I've...had both. Wife, girlfriend."

Ellie feels her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The girlfriend thing wasn't all that shocking considering Joel had been alive before the world was fucked.

"Got married young." Joel sighs, "Got divorced maybe a year after that."

"Oh, shit, sorry." Ellie finds herself saying, suddenly feeling bad about asking.

Joel shakes his head, and his gruff voice fills the air, dismissing her worries, "Doesn't matter now."

Ellie slowly nods and her eyes scan Joel's face. She can tell he's holding something back.

"What about the girlfriend?" She asks, the words tumbling out, "Were you and Tess...?"

Joel huffs a breath, still not looking at her, "Tess and I...we....forget about it."

Ellie nods again, figuring he'd want to drop the subject now. Joel didn't like talking about his past with her.

"Only ever had one girlfriend that ever really mattered. Screwed it up though, right before the world went to shit too. " He said staring into the flames as if they'd come to life and jump out to burn him. "She uh...she was really the only relationship that actually mattered to me."

Even above his wife?

Ellie kept that thought in, contrary to popular belief, she did have a filter.

"What happened to her?" She asks instead, curious as to where this mystery girl was now.

"I don't know." Joel says sadly, "She uh...I haven't seen her since before the outbreak. Just always presumed she was y'know...gone."

Ellie nods sympathetically, "Maybe it's better like that...you've only got the good memories of her then."

A beat of silence passes between the two of them before Joel's eyes finally leave the fire and meet Ellie's.

"Yeah...maybe." He sighs

Winter 2023

You watch from a crack in your curtains as Maria shows Joel and the girl to their home. How convenient it was that she had placed him right across the street from you.

Maria knew your history with Joel. Tommy had spilled the beans after arriving in Jackson a few years ago. God, he was annoying sometimes.

You remembered the day Tommy had walked through the gates of Jackson. You had nearly fainted when you saw the younger Miller brother alive and well before you.

You had always hoped he and Joel had survived. Of course, the new world was unpredictable and you never truly knew what happened to them.

The news of Sarah had shattered your heart into a million pieces. Tommy had told you over two steaming mugs of coffee in your house one day. Her name fell from his lips like it was some forbidden word, he'd get in trouble for saying. You couldn't bear to ask how Joel had handled it, you knew how much he'd loved his daughter.

Tommy had slowly walked you through how he and Joel ended up in Boston, and then eventually how he ran off to join the Fireflies and how he'd ended up here.

So many times he'd tried to beckon you to the radio to talk to Joel, who still thought you were dead. You'd pleaded with Tommy not to tell him you were still among the living.

So many years had passed yet you still couldn't process the enigma that was Joel Miller.

Joel couldn't sleep. The soft fabric of the mattress should've lulled him right off yet here he was, tossing and turning beneath the soft sheets.

He slipped out of bed and past Ellie's room. He could hear her snores through the closed door. At least one of them was getting rest, and frankly, she deserved it more than him.

He sat on his front porch step in the cold night air. Across the street, he could see the upstairs lights glow from your home. Tommy had told him you were across the way if he needed anything.

Joel had wanted to kill his brother for not saying anything about you. Tommy had just raised his hands in innocence and told him to talk to you before pointing the accusation at anyone.

Joel watched with wide eyes as you suddenly appeared. One of the illuminated windows turned out to be your bathroom.

He felt a nervous trickle of sweat roll down his back. He should go inside yet it was as if someone had glued his ass to the porch step.

He watched as you stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your body as you brushed through your wet hair. It was longer than it used to be. Joel recalled that you'd had it tied neatly back earlier but now it was free, framing your face nicely. He couldn't help but wonder if it was still as soft as it was so many years ago when he used to card his fingers through it after you fell asleep beside him.

His brain once again urged him to go inside, were you even aware that your bathroom curtains were sheer? He'd have to tell you, after all, you deserved to have privacy.

Joel felt his heart squeeze as he watched the way you went about your nighttime routine. Brushing your hair and your teeth before reaching for some small pot of what looked like homemade moisturizer.

You were as beautiful as he remembered in all of the dreams that had visited him over the years. It was as if you were a ghost returning from the dead and back to his life, breathing fresh air into it.

He turns away in shame when you drop your towel to dry off. What the fuck was he doing, staring into your window like some creep? He's lucky you didn't spot him and shout out your window to all of Jackson that their newest edition, Joel Miller, was a pervert.

By the time he's gathered the courage to look back up, the light is off and you're gone. Joel lets out a long sigh, his breath mingling in the cool air.

What the fuck was he going to do now?

Next Part

Joel: Woah someone needs to tell reader about her sheer curtains!

Also Joel: I should sit and watch...right???

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly @orcasoul @snowlycanroc @freythecrazyfae

@person-005

[anisdolly]

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ quiet now, will you?

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: bratfem!reader x dom!modernau!anakin, dirty talking, teasing, clit play, he likes to command just a bit too much.

summary: anakin is taking you home after picking you up from your shift, and of course he is hungry as fuck. just...you're feeling bratty.

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

“h-hey!” you lament, hands quickly folding together to push the fabric of your sweater between your legs. the little fist they created stays there, pressed right between a drenched cunt, his hand and your thighs—a vain, and rather pathetic, attempt to stop your boyfriend from getting what he was craving. “h-hand away!”

it had been already a long day at work—your boss making you run from one office to the other just because her spoiled daughter wanted to read a book that wasn’t even fucking released yet. last thing you need, was anakin all over your pussy, and his car’s seat dirty. maybe you should’ve thought twice before shoving yourself into more comfortable clothes—a thick sweater that worked more as a short, barely covering dress—and keep your tailleur instead.

anakin just watches you squirm and use your only cloth as a barrier, his blue eyes gleaming with wicked delight before a low chuckle escapes his lips. his hand, determined in feeling more, comes to rest atop the hoodie mound you just created after abruptly pushing yours away, pressing down against the fabric just enough to feel the warmth and dampness underneath.

"'hand away'…" he teases mockingly, his voice resonating with that deep sound that is exclusively his. "think you got the power to make demands, princess? after i haven’t seen you for an entire day?" a playful, yet starved edge lines his words with a smirk. his fingers begin to move in a slow, deliberate circle over the hoodie, not enough to touch directly, but the implication is there—a reminder of the control he holds over your pretty body.

it gets you writhing and panting instantly, and as you wrap your hand around his wrist to try and move him away, the pressure only gets more insistent. so much, that what sounds like a tiny moan flips out of your mouth. you really thought you had the strength to push him away? tsk.

“a-ani…c-c’mon…” you cry, but your hips were betraying you by basically humping against his hand.

he simply scoffs at your pitiful wail, enjoying the friction of your core over his digits. “never this drenched. not even when i cum all over it.”

the car's engine hums and thrums to life as anakin lets his hand linger over your hidden cunt, driving you insane with the need for more in only seconds. yet, he never really gives you what you need. you were always so fucking perfect with your innocent blush and eager body—he loves how you respond to him so quickly, despite your best efforts. even if, at times, he has to push you a bit more. but it’s alright, because your pussy always spoke louder than your useless words.

anakin’s other hand grips the shifter, his knuckles white as he pulls it into reverse, his gaze finally breaking away from you to check the mirrors. his actions dual; driving the car while driving you mad, and it was an easy combination to him. probably it became a skill after all the other times he fingered you in that passenger seat, making you cum more than one time in less than six miles.

and even as he pulls out of the parking spot, he keeps his eyes on the task while his body did not—his driving smooth and practiced, while his fingers softly toy with you.

"quiet now, angel." he murmurs, licking his lips in what seems a concentrated—yet unbothered—expression. “don’t wanna be pulled over by cops while i milk my fingers, right?”

the car backs out from the parking lot and, as he finds the way to the road home, the vibrations of the moving vehicle add an entirely new layer to the torture you are already being put under. your doe eyes look like more interested in the movements of his fingertips rather than the road ahead, and your hole clutches around nothing.

and then, anakin found your clit even through all those layers of fabric, pushing a full-on moan out of your lungs. how the hell does he manage that? every fucking time?

“b-babe…please—” you grit out while your body heat increases more and more, and your soaked panties practically damp the sweater too.

"hey. told ya, quiet.” anakin commands again, this time way sterner than before. “if you can stay silent and good, maybe—maybe—you’ll get the reward you’re dripping for. but make even a little noise, and i’ll leave you wantin’ and aching all the damn way back."

his hand presses a little harder before pulling away completely, making you tremble at the loss, before it reaches for the gear shift to help drive on the dark street. "so…let’s see how good my little princess can really be, hm?"

your lover could feel the stickiness on his fingertips, highlighting his hunger. god, he could still taste the sweetness of your pussy from the previous night, and the scent of your arousal is the car made his pupils dilate. but there’s nothing more easy for anakin than to have self control when it comes to teasing you. so he stays in his seat, driving carelessly, as if his index and middle didn’t just turn you into a heated whore.

but tonight, you are having none of it. who does he think he is? making fun of you like that? after you had one of the most stressful days of the week at work, and even told him? hell the fuck no. just like he started, he was gonna make you finish.

“mmhm! no!” you huff out, your hands clutching the excessively long sleeves of your sweater before smacking right onto your thighs in frustration. “p-put it back there!” the pout on your face mixes with what seems a frown—this was a stance that you never dared to take before, but that now came automatically at his carefree demeanor and actions.

“now.”

whiny brat.

at your defiance, anakin’s sharp jaw clenches tightly and almost immediately. a surge of possessiveness tightens around his heart like a vice, the call to put you back in your damn place taking over any restraint he had been putting onto his own emotions. that sudden insistence in your voice makes him laugh dryly, simply not to reach out and pull your hair like you fucking deserved.

"ahhh, what did i say about zipping it?" his voice is a lethal purr, and his eyes, blue like shards of ice, caught yours in the review mirror. "seems someone’s already beggin’ for punishment." and as he continues to navigate the deserted streets, the silence of the night around you feels almost like an accomplice to whatever was about to happen inside that poor range rover.

but still, you don’t relent, staring right back into his eyes as your lids turn into two thin lines. “i’m not.” you respond, fists tightening even more with rage.

anakin drums his fingers on the steering wheel, the rhythmic tapping sending a message of impatience as he considers your outburst with a sickening silence. with a quick glance to ensure the road is empty, he slows the car, almost to a crawl. the sudden braking gets you to jerk forward, but thankfully the seatbelt prevents you from hitting your head. it makes you yelp, though, and your eyes squeeze.

"you want it there, right? is that how you ask for something, you snappy brat?” he almost barks at you, noticing how your expression is a mixture of defiance and surprise before snapping his eyes fully back towards the road.

and then, anakin reaches over with a masterful slowness, allowing the back of his knuckles to graze across the swell of your breast through the sweater, then down your stomach, before hovering just millimeters away from your needy, aching pussy. “touch this?” the scent emanating from there is still so strong, the window couldn't air it out.

“y-yeah…” you gulp, following the path of his hand with your trembling eyes, while thinking that your little tantrum did the thing. but the next words he speaks get that smug and aroused expression off of your face just as quickly as it came.

"want me to touch your pathetic cunt? funny. you break the rules, sweet girl, you get nothin'." his voice is firm yet threaded with a dark desire. "you keep being this disobedient...hmmph, i might just have to spank that pretty ass of yours until you remember who's in charge here.” then, just as abruptly, he shifts his hand away, up to the damn shift again.

now, you think twice before humming a lament. last time he slapped your ass, you were barely able to sit.

"but if you’re good—and i mean real good—you’ll get what's coming to you. i’ll fuck your worthless hole until you're screamin', breed you until you can't think...all those dirty things you like."

“i-i’m not being—” but you don’t even manage to finish your phrase as anakin makes a hard turn, taking the rover to a more secluded area—a field just by the street, apparently empty. your nails claw at each side of your seat, trying to keep you steady, and that belt helps you once again.

he told you to be fucking quiet, why you still speaking?

the headlights illuminated the open space as he pulls over, then switches off the engine, and turns in his seat to face you properly. "fucking crybaby." anakin sneered, glaring your startled body up and down. "listen up. you've got one chance to show me how good you can be for daddy. are you gonna take it, or do i have to remind you just how hard i can make that little pussy beg for me?"

[lsunstreakerl]

i cannot stop thinking about the ear piercings for max in the darkbull verse

this was also sticking in my head a bit, so here's 930 words of Max POV. hi! darkbull :) but tame darkbull, all things considered.

Max leans his face into GP's palm, eyes gently shut as a hand drags softly through his hair. The piercer is holding his ear, gloves cool against Max's skin.

GP is cradling the side of his face, tilting his head carefully so the piercer has a good angle. Max is only a little hazy- GP had passed him a water in the car earlier, and Max had made a face. He didn't particularly want to be fucked up today, but it's not like he can refuse everything from the team, all the time- it's just not realistic.

He wouldn't put it past them to figure out some other way either, and Max enjoys keeping his life as painless as possible, so he'd drank the whole bottle on the way in.

It must be a diluted dose though, because he's not checked out the way he usually is. Instead it's a pleasant buzz, drifting Max away from his body just enough to soothe his nerves, leaning against GP.

He barely feels the sting near the top of his ear, careful fingers adjusting the piercing. They're all small studs at the moment, silver and navy placeholders while it heals before Max can have nicer ones. There's the swift heat of an alcohol wipe, and then the piercer leans back, giving GP a nod.

"That's all of them. It's important that they get cleaned frequently, don't try for anything decorative until they're healed. Keep a close eye on the rook on this side, and once they're healed up I'll do the conch and the daith on the other, sound good?"

Max isn't even sure which ones they've done- he's got quite a few, but he hadn't bothered counting. Apparently there'd been a discussion about trying to get them all in once, or scattering them out, but the team had decided to do as many as possible in one go, so that Max only had to deal with the healing process for a little bit. It would've been much more drawn out if they'd waited- although the piercer had wanted to stagger out the last few.

Max doesn't mind. They'll have to figure something out for his in-ears on race day, but he's sure the engineers are already on it.

GP leans over him to shake the piercers hand.

"Thank you, really. We'll keep in touch about that follow up- and he'll take good care of them, don't worry."

By "he" Max knows they actually mean the team. He doesn't mind it anymore- never has- and it's nice sometimes knowing he doesn't have to worry about anything.

They'd been careful with him when he'd first gotten back and had the tattoo redone- not that he remembers much of it. Brief flashes of large hands gentle against his ribs, warm baths, team dinners. They'd done a good job bringing him back into the fold, even deeper than before, stitching together all the flayed parts of him Charles had left behind and weaving him into the team.

He'd be nothing without them.

He's still leaning against GP as they stand, a steady arm wrapped around his shoulders as GP walks them back to the car, a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"You did a good job, Max."

All he had to do was sit still and let them put a needle in him- Jake does that all the time when he's drunk anyways. It's still nice to hear GP say it, and Max lets the praise settle warm in his chest, humming softly.

He flips the visor down in the car, tilting his head each way to really look.

There's four on the left side, scattered across his ear, and three on the right. The studs are small and flat, mostly silver with some deep navy blue here and there.

Max snorts.

"Mate, I look like a Red Bull can."

GP laughs lightly, one hand snaking across the console to squeeze Max's knee briefly as he reverses out of the lot, eyes on the rear view mirror.

"Was it ever going to be anything else?"

Max flips the visor back up, settling into the seat. He knows the answer already.

It's a bit like his life with Red Bull, when he thinks about it- doing his time with the navy and the silver, belonging to the team entirely before he can have the gleaming gold he knows is coming.

He's sure there's probably all kinds of conversations happening right now about what the team wants the piercing layout to be.

Daniel, Carlos, and Oscar should all have a say in it as well, but Max really doesn't understand the hierarchies there- and it doesn't impact him any, beyond that they probably shouldn't use his mouth for a few days while his ears are still tender. One wrong hand placement could lead to a very painful night.

They'll be dramatically devastated about it until they remember Max has other things to offer.

It might even lead to something creative, depending on how they're feeling.

He leans his head back against the seat, eyes drifting back shut. GP's palm is warm over his knee, and he feels good, just on the edge of hazy.

Sometimes he wonders if he should be horrified, letting the team do whatever they want. Half the time the drugging isn't even subtle anymore, but there's something reassuring about it. The team doesn't need to be secretive about it, Max knows they just want what's best for him- and he clearly doesn't know himself, so it's better to let them handle everything.

All Max has to do is drive and listen.

[hmhas-00]

Ch.1

Hit Me Hard & Soft

word count - 1.7k words

A/N - Hi lovelies! I can’t wait for you to fall in love with Remy and Billie, and their ✨friendship✨

Chapter 2 will be up tomorrow! Starting next week, my posting schedule will be Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Please like and reblog! It means a lot! 🫶🏻

Remy's POV

My hand shot back as the hot, white-coated metal of the car door burned my fingertips.

“Motherfu-“ Immediately, my watery eyes landed on the yellow paper folded under the windshield wipers.

“You have to be kidding me right now.” Unfolding it, the paper revealed a dreaded parking ticket. Crumpling the paper into my back pocket, I swung open the door. Plopping onto the hot leather seat and ignoring the 3rd degree burns going into the backs of my thighs, my phone slid into the crack between the center console. As if on purpose, my phone began to ring nonstop. A huge sigh escaped my lips, while I started the engine to at least get some A/C. When the bluetooth connected to the car, I answered the call using the hands-free feature. Thank the gods for technology.

“Hey, Bills- Right now is not a-“ I groaned, fighting for my life to rescue my phone from the french fry abyss that it had fallen in.

“Remy! Where are you?” Billie exaggerated in a playful, but very loud voice. Maybe it was the stereo volume, though…

“I’m sorta in the middle of- HA! Got it!” I shrieked, putting the phone in the cupholder.

Billie whined, “I thought you were coming tonight. I don’t want to go alone! I’ve been really nervous and-“

Immediately, I realized I had promised my best friend I’d go the live recording of The Late Show With Steven Colbert. Mouthing expletives I yanked the stupid seatbelt, attempting to secure it multiple times.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m so sorry! I didn’t exactly forget. It’s just- I’ve had the shittiest day. I was humiliated at work today, got a parking ticket-“

“Oh, shit. Remy, hey- No, I’m sorry! Fuck, start from the beginning, what happened?” Billie worried, putting her disappointment aside. “Please, don’t worry about tonight, I’ll come over right after and we can talk more if you want?”

I hurried out of the parking space, not bothering to look before putting the car in reverse. “No, no! I’ll be on the way right now. It’s fine, it’s just been a crazy day. A lot at once. I’m on the way though!”

“You sure?” Billie cooed. “Are you sure you’re okay to be driving right now?”

“Yeah, yeah! I’m good.” Tears brimmed my eyes. Not tears of sadness, but instead frustration. Everything that could possibly go wrong was going wrong, and had been for at least a week. Still, I felt awful for forgetting about our plans. She’d been talking about how nervous she is about her first live performance since her new album, HMHAS, came out on Friday.

“Okay… Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had such a hard day today. Tell me everything.” She comforted me, always knowing what to say and how to say it.

I began to tell her all about my stressful day at work, and how my boss crossed several professional boundaries.

Earlier that day I presented my ideas to the potential new column writers for our magazine, while my chauvinist pig of a boss dismissed my efforts, and mansplained almost every point I made. After the board meeting I made the mistake of interrupting his debriefing with the rest of the team in his office and told him that I’d really like another chance to speak to the writers. “You were there because I allowed it. If you’d like another chance with those guys, consider wearing something worth their while.” He sneered and waved me out of his office. It brought me back to earth, making it evident that I am nothing but a secretary. As I opened the door to leave, he told me to go home for the day. I didn’t know if this meant I was fired, or if he was just sick of seeing my face. Regardless, it made me want to crawl into a hole and never go back.

“You realize he basically implied that unless you show some cleavage, no one will listen to you, right?” Billie protested, appalled at my story of the day. She had listened to countless rants about my job, never understanding why I stick around.

The truth is, this was my in! This is the environment I had studied so hard to be around and paid thousands of dollars for. Well, not quite. But it was my in. I believed I could make it through and work my way up to the top of the chain, hopefully enough to fire the assholes that run the magazine. Or at least be an editor.

“Anyway, so then I went out to my car and found the ticket after burning my hands, then burned my legs, then my phone fell under my seat, and here we are. Now, I’m going to drive off the PCH, if you don’t mind.”

“Not before I see you today. I’ll make it better…” she promised, knowing she always did. “…I’m not gonna say it.”

“Good”

“Quit already.”

“Billie…” I insisted.

“Okay, okay. Just saying. Don’t change. Keep being your bold self. Someone will appreciate it.”

“Thank you.”

“Someone at a different company because they don’t deserve you! They-“ she protested, starting her speech.

“Billie!” I whined. I honestly didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted to forget. “I’m pulling up right now, I’ll see you inside okay?”

“This isn’t over!” She shouted into the phone, still amped up.

I hung up and rolled the window down, showing my ID to the guard at the front gate. He smiled at me and nodded as the beautiful golden gates began to open inward into the giant property. I drove my car down the long road to Billie’s house and parked my car where I usually did. Security led me in and I was greeted with the warmest hug on planet earth.

Billie wrapped her arms around me, radiating with tenderness and comfort, amidst her own anxiety for what was to come tonight. “Are you ready for tonight?” My voice muffled into her dark hair.

She smelled sweet and when we pulled away I took in her shining face and very minimal makeup. Basically, just aquafor on her lips, clear mascara and brow gel, and a bit of concealer and powder where she thought she needed it. Although, she really didn’t need any. She had glasses on, and her outfit for the show, which she had thrifted herself.

“Mm, noo.” She shook her head and spoke in her silly voice. She ticked a bit, tilting her head to the side a few times. She had been ticking a lot lately, at least for the last few weeks leading up to the album release, the big album listening events, and now the Late Show.

I rubbed her temples and smiled, while she closed her eyes trying to focus. “You’re gonna be incredible. I can’t wait to hear you.” Her left eyebrow twitched a bit, then stopped.

“Let me fix my makeup. Is what I’m wearing okay?” I asked, walking towards the stairs.

“For me it is…but for your boss?” She joked, sorta.

“Billie!” I ran up the stairs, leaving her behind. “I’m raiding your closet!”

She followed and plopped on her bed, watching me walk through her giant bathroom, and into her giant walk-in closet.

I picked out something cute and put on a fashion show for her. She puckered her lips and raised her brows at me, showing her approval on the outfit. “You’re not supposed to look better than me at my own show, dude!” She shifted on the bed, placing one hand under her head, and fixing her baggy jeans.

“Shut up.” I laughed under my breath and plopped on the bed next to her. “Fuck, it’s been a day.”

She turned her head slightly to look at me. “You know I’m so proud of you, right? I want you to be happy. Whatever that means for you, I just want that.”

I nodded, knowing she just wants what’s best for me. We shared the same thought. “I love you.” I turned my body towards her, seeing her tick, rolling her eyes to the left a few times. “Enough about me. Tonight’s gonna be so fun, and you’re going to sound amazing, and then we can come back here and eat all the food.”

“Actually, I was gonna tell you, but your day was ruined by Danny Devito’s cousin.” Billie snorted. I smacked her tummy. “There’s this afterparty they’re throwing for Finneas and I, and I wanted you to come with me. But if you’re not in the mood, I’m totally down to just eat all the food with you here.”

“Nah, I’m down. It’ll be fun! I wanna forget about it all anyways.” I held out my fist and she bumped it with her hand.

“I’m not gonna drink at all so you can go crazy, go stupid.” She nodded.

“You never drink anyways.” I rolled my eyes.

Billie stared at me with her big, blues which were more of a gray hue at the moment. She seemed to have zoned out in thought. I slightly furrowed my brows and smiled at her. A few seconds later she opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by her phone ringing.

She put the phone to her ear. “Hey, whats up?”

I fidgeted with my top while she spoke on the phone, shaking the feeling that something was up. It might just be her nerves, but it also could be me overanalyzing and overthinking it. For weeks she’d been the most anxious and worried I had seen her in a while. This was the most vulnerable I ever heard her on an album, so I knew it was a relief when people adored it on release day. I worried about her a lot lately. Late nights, panic attacks, bad dreams, and lots of work planning out the upcoming tour… It wasn’t a shock knowing she barely slept.

“Everything okay?” I asked as she finished her call.

“They canceled today’s appearance for some reason, but they’ll probably reschedule it for next week. Now I get to be nervous longer.” She put a thumbs up in the air.

“It’s the universe. She wants us to sit here, watch movies, and eat all the food.” I sat up to change out of these clothes.

“Must be.” Billie hummed. She watched me take off my impromptu outfit, and threw some sweats and a shirt she had left on her bed from earlier. “I’ll order something.”

[shithowdy]

had to mute the notifs on that reverse search post because it's drowning my activity but i wish i had a way to go back in and emphasize that the post was NOT about identifying generative images visually.

not only did i already try to explain how to do that once, but i subsequently learned how challenged people can be by interpreting that information. there is simply no way to describe with words alone the type of smoothly-contoured black shadows or strangely-layered character outfits that accompany a lot of ai imagery without also textually describing your average piece of warhammer fanart. it's simply not worth trying to compel people to overanalyze art technique as casual jpeg enjoyers, and some of the guides i've seen are very much a "one or two feldspars" kind of situation in assuming what the average person knows about lighting, anatomy, composition, color, or anything else that goes into an image. or, getting to my point now, even what the average artist actually knows about these things... or notices. in one of my recent drawings, a stray line i forgot to erase got colored like normal, and the result was a character appearing to have six fingers. ai confirmed???

a lot of people on that post keep trying to helpfully make additions that involve visually identifying the example as ai generated, but most people aren't going to notice things like brush stroke variance, or an elbow being A Little Weird (as if normal artists don't fuck up anatomy), or a piece's subject matter being anachronistic or otherwise "too modern". some are also just wrong, like the person saying "they're not wearing belts" as a reason it couldn't be a historical impressionist piece (men did not wear belts with their trousers outside of military and utility until the 1920s). the point is, as fun as it is on a personal level to play 'i spy' and find all the issues, for the average person, drag-and-dropping it into a search engine is gonna be a lot faster and more accurate.

[steddiebbang]

I was a teenage dirtbag  |  Mature  |  75k

Author: @hellfireloserclub

Artist: @academic-clown

Beta Reader: @kaypie91

[Link to fic]  |  [Link to art]

Pairings: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington , Erica Sinclair, Dustim Henderson, Nancy Wheeler. 

Tags: Slowburn, Future Fic, Year 2000, Post-season Four, Bisexual Steve, Bisexual Eddie, Comedy /angst, Long distance friendship to lovers, Radio Host Eddie, Hairdresser Steve, Wedding fic.

Trigger Warnings: Sex, Alcohol, and Recreational drugs

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

“So…” Dustin started.

“So what?” Eddie asked, fixing his eyes on the side of Dustin’s face, trying to work out what way this interrogation was going to go.  

“I don’t have my own ringtone, Wayne and Mom don’t, but Steve does?” Dustin avoided looking at him, staring at the overhead signs pointing to the short stay parking, acting like they weren’t at the airport at least twice a month with the family coming and going. 

“I thought it was funny,” he said in his own defense. 

“And I totally believe you.” It sounded like a question. 

“But?”

“But are you sure there's not more?” someone shouldn’t look so smug as they reverse in a multi story, yet here was Dustin excelling at it. When Eddie didn’t answer he cut off the engine turning to look at him, all signs pointed to the next few minutes being incredibly uncomfortable.  

“Spit it out, I have to get to the gate,” Eddie grumbled, he felt like he was under a microscope, his little brother's eyes boring into him.

“Are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Steve?”  Eddie wanted to yell- yes, I just don’t know what? But he bit it down, this wasn’t the time to trigger a Dustin intervention. 

“Just because you can't procreate outside of the close knit circles you were dragged up in, doesn’t mean we all have to hook up within our little friend group.  You gotta stop trying to pair us all off dude, it's not cool. Remember when you used to keep trying to pair off Steve and Robin? How did that work out for you?” Eddie questioned. 

“In my defense-”

“No. Say less. Stop. I broke up with Yumi two weeks ago, I don’t need you to help, I don’t need your psychoanalyzing me with Max over the phone. I don’t need you to try and set me up with a rebound. I’m a big boy alright. I’m going to Boston to get stupidly drunk with Steve, talk shit about you all lovingly, and lament the fact that both me and him are probably gonna die old and alone.” He reached over the back of the seat and grabbed his duffle bag, before reaching over and tapping Dustin on the cheek. “But look at the plus side, if me and Stevie don’t bring a plus one to the wedding that will save you two meals and a headache with seating plans.”

“You make my resolve to not meddle in both of your love lives impossible, you know that right?” Dustin asked, leaning over the center console. 

“Cause you were doing an absolutely stellar job of it before this conversation?” Eddie closed the door behind him. “Dusty, I love you like you’re my own flesh and blood. But please, let this one go?” 

Dustin looked poised to say something else but Eddie didn’t have time for it. “If the words curiosity journey come out of your mouth, I’m not speaking to you for a month.”  Dustin snapped his mouth shut. “That’s it, save it for Applejack, I don’t want to know.”

Eddie gave the car a courtesy wave as he went through the doors of the airport, but he didn’t look back. He was pretty sure Dustin had hit the nail on the head with his observations, but as far as anyone was aware Steve was just his friend, and letting go of any control on that narrative was like letting a fox off in a hen house. It would be chaos. Although Eddie was starting to think it was a lost cause. This was so much easier when he and Steve hated each other, enemies to fuck buddies was a much easier story arch, with a lot less emotional baggage.

[your-nanas-house]

Christmas together

◇ Pairing: Patricia 'Kitten' Braden X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: fluff, angst, prostitution, Christmas dinner, acting/roleplay, friends to lovers, kisses, description of female clothes

◇ Summary: Kitten finds herself stuck spending the Christmas with a "stranger".

◇ Note: Another fantastic collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989 and another fic of the new "event" 'From love to Love'.

This night was particularly cold, even for these areas. Walking nearly blindly in the dark streets, Kitten had to wrap herself tightly in her jacket that.. wasn't particularly adapted to such weather.. both jacket and Kitten. 

Hugging herself, she walked bravely, hoping that no disgusting man would stop her on her path, as the night was long as it is. 

The wind was so strong that her curly brown hair was blowing in every direction, and there was no use in trying to fix them. Every few seconds they would keep flying into her eyes anyway. 

Lost in her thoughts, Kitten looked only at the sidewalk, trying not to trip on the uneven curb as she heard loud whistling, making her turn around. 

”Hey, love! I'm afraid you need to fucking move, that's my zone!” a tall, blonde woman yelled from the other side of the street. Her too high red heels looked almost silly as she stood there, wearing fur and clumsily fixed makeup that… clearly went through something that night already. Rolling her eyes, Kitten huffed with annoyance under her breath as she turned to face her again.

”With your cheap looks, you should move one street further and stand right next to the Dollar Tree!” She replied in her unbothered tone, keeping her chin up despite the tiredness that she felt. The only response she got was a high pitched gasp which she clearly ignored, turning back on her tracks heading home. 

Not even a couple of minutes later a rich, clearly expensive car slowed down a couple of metres away from the woman, putting the car into reverse to go back and stop exactly next to her before lowering the car window.

Kitten didn't look right away, opting for the safer decision and keep walking— but then a female voice caught her attention. “Hi honey, uhm…” it sounded sweet and carrying but still a bit insecure as if she didn't know what to do exactly “Are you looking for… uh.. a ride by any chance?” The pretty woman asked, biting her bottom lip, awkwardly.

Kitten remained still on the sidewalk, her body frozen as her baby blue eyes stared intently at the stranger in confusion. Her mind was running wild as her body acted on its own, her slender hand opening the car door to see if it was a joke or if it was a serious offer, before climbing in. The warmth of the expensive car hugging her cold body in a lovely way, the comfortable seat nearly rocking her in a peaceful state of mind… not really thinking about the consequences of getting in a car with a stranger, again, Kitten eased into comfort of the warm vehicle with a sigh. 

Neither of them spoke up, incomprehensible awkwardness lingering in the air, as the engine purred smoothly under the hood of the car. 

Kitten’s eyes were a little heavy after a whole day of running around and spending a few hours outside in the cold weather, so accidental zoning out wasn't surprising. 

As soon as she woke up from the trance, she realised that the stranger was entering the property, wheels of the car scratching against the decorative rocks scattered on the driveway. 

Patricia's brows furrowed in confusion before she spoke up. 

”Um… why are we here?” She asked in a confused whisper, making Y/n glanced at the woman, not sure what to say at such a question. 

”I thought that well… it would be comfortable to maybe.. drink something before getting on with.. uh.. the ride, y’know?” she proposed timidly, not sure how to word it. 

That was the very first time for Y/n to… use the services of a prostitute, so she didn't know if the awkwardness was a normal thing or not. 

Tea before the ride, Kitten thought, oblivious to the time that the other woman used. A gentle smile appeared on her face as she nodded, getting out of the car. A warm drink sounded pretty good to her.

Y/n locked the car with her automatic key before heading to the house, gesturing to Kitten to follow her. 

As soon as the door shut behind Kitten’s back, she felt a little weird standing in a stranger's house.. almost in the middle of the night. Only now did she realise how actually dangerous the situation could be if the pretty woman she met turns out to be some sort of a… psychopath. She looked so innocent and caring though.

The beautiful woman offered to take her coat, hanging it at the front door before giving her slippers so that Kitten wouldn’t have walked barefoot on the cold floor of the house. As they both headed to a part of the penthouse, the lady leading and Kitten following, she spoke up first, glancing back to meet her baby blue eyes “Y/n!.. I-I’m Y/n” she giggled awkwardly, embarrassed to have scared her for a moment when she nearly screamed her name in her face 

“Kitten” Patricia replied with a tiny smile, noticing how awkward the situation was for her as well. Sighing, Y/n she tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“I’m sorry… it’s my first time, dear. I really have no idea how to approach this situation… herbal tea or just tea?” she explained, looking back at her when the question left her mouth. 

”Uhm.. Just tea.” Kitten replied, following Y/n to the kitchen before chuckling as she hugged herself lightly, to gain some more confidence. ”I.. I understand, for me it's unusual too.. to get a lift and.. meet someone that late at night, and now.. standing in your house to drink tea.” She chuckled, in her gentle voice, choosing her words carefully so as to not offend the woman of the house. 

Y/n smiled lightly, a soft look crossing her beautiful eyes,

“I’m sorry” she simply said as she prepared the tea “We can make things go a bit faster, if you want. I really don’t want to make you feel so uncomfortable” the shorter girl replied, biting her bottom lip nervously as she now poured the warm drink in a sophisticated cup “Sugar, darling?” she asked, offering her the cup while pushing the sugar closer. The… weird wording caught Patricia's attention quickly, especially combined with the awkwardness that Y/n felt. The weird feeling filled her head as she thought that something wasn't quite right. Watching Y/n she raised her brows, wheels in her head turning. 

After a moment she took the cup carefully, glancing at her to see if she was drinking it as well, before finally bringing up to her lipstick painted lips and taking a testing sip… a tender hum escaping her mouth when the warmth of the tea filled her body, making her wiggle softly and happily.

Y/n smiled at that, placing her empty cup back down on the marble table, before heading into another room 

“If you’re hungry you can take whatever you want from the fridge!” she informed Kitten, leaving her alone for a couple of minutes before appearing in the doorway again.

Her y/e/c eyes watched her silhouette around amazed, the cup still in her hand and no more cookies in the tiny dish she had left. She sure was hungry, the gorgeous lady thought, attempting to gather her courage and finally do something to cut the awkwardness. 

“Would you like something else to drink or eat or… should we just skip it and go on our.. Ride?” she asked with a sensual voice, the awkwardness and cringe she was feeling was still present, but she tried to hide it by dropping her silky robe onto the floor… revealing that way the red set of lingerie.

The silence took over the room as soon as the piece of clothing fell, Kitten’s eyes were wide as she stared, completely and utterly shocked. Looking like a lost puppy at the beautiful body of the stranger without saying a word, she just gasped, not understanding the turn of events that just took place.

”Uhm… What?” Kitten asked, blinking a couple times, keeping her gaze at Y/n’s eyes. The young woman’s body language started to shift, becoming more insecure just like her voice 

“Y-You… First the payment and then the “fun” or how does it work?” she whispered hesitantly with a worried expression, her eyes staring at Kitten, watching how her expression changed slowly as if she had just realised something

“Payment?” She gasped, her voice an octave higher than usual as her eyes widened and jaw fell slack, her lips parted. ”I’m.. I'm not a prostitute!” Patricia quickly explained, clearly offended. Her face softening when Y/n’s eyes started to fill up with tears of embarrassment, as she quickly put the robe back on with an ashamed look 

“I-I’m really sorry, I thought… fuck, I’m so stupid. You were so pretty and in that zone of the city. I shouldn’t have listened to Amanda” she kept rambling, feeling sorry and ashamed of her actions. 

“Hey, hey.. Don’t cry, sweetheart. You aren’t the first one that thought that” Patricia quickly explained, getting carefully up to move closer to her. ”It’s alright.” She spoke gently, wanting to calm Y/n down as she looked in her eyes. ”It was a misunderstanding, okay? I'll just… just leave now, and we'll act like it never happened.” She whispered with a weak smile, trying her best to comfort the pretty woman she met. Y/n sniffled, wiping her face with her hands as she shook her head.

”No.. no.. I'm sorry, just… don't go, please?” She asked, eyes still watery. ”We.. we don't have to do anything, I'm just… I'm really lonely so maybe I could pay you to just.. just spend Christmas here, with me?” Her voice was hopeful, Kitten could sense the hint of embarrassment in it, but Y/n didn't back off from her question. 

Patricia thought for a moment, thinking of how.. unusual that whole situation was with a chuckle. 

It's not like she had actual plans, right? With nobody at home, no friend around, she would spend Christmas fully on her own. Probably laying in bed and eating take out food. 

Shaking her head, she lifted Y/n’s chin with one finger, making her look Kitten in the eyes.

”You won't pay me, and I will stay, okay, darling?” Patricia offered, looking in Y/n’s eyes in a comforting way “You sure?” she asked softly, her voice cracking as a pout appeared on her face “I’m sure, darling” Kitten nodded, earning a bigger pout from her “Thank you… But let me spoil you then, yes? We can order something to eat, or I.. can cook for you! I also have pyjamas and more comfortable clothes, you can choose whatever you like, yes? Pretty please” she quickly asked, holding Kitten’s bigger hands in her smaller ones, squeezing tenderly while waiting patiently for a reply. Interrupting her quickly as soon as she tried to reject the offer “I said pleasee, Kitten, I would feel even more guilty then” the beautiful woman explained, dragging her quickly to another room, revealing her a big walk-in wardrobe “Anything” she reminded her before heading quickly to the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

Anything, Patricia kept repeating in her head as her wide eyes looked around the huge room, it was impressive, and expensive looking. Beautiful decor and exclusivity of it was something that she never got to witness before. Such a variety of clothes.. all organised. There were furry ones, silky, lacy, cotton… heels, low shoes.. Bags, accessories for hair and jewellery. It looked like heaven, a pink cosy heaven just for her.

Her hand wandered, brushing against all the different fabrics before she finally decided what to wear— which was matching baby pink underwear, a silky gown with a lacy upper part which showed off the natural curves of her chest which was covered by a lacy top. A robe finished her outfit, covering a bit the short fabric of the gown, allowing it to be seen a bit due to the see-through pink fabric; a line of fluffy fur kept stroking her freckled skin very gently, leaving a nice sensation all over. 

Kitten looked at herself in the mirror, purring satisfied as she saw the pretty sight. She felt.. beautiful.

With a grin on her face she headed towards the kitchen where Y/n stood by the counter, cooking meals for them both. 

”Maybe.. we should get some decorations?” She suggested gently, making the other woman jump, startled as she was unaware of Kitten’s presence. 

”Uhm.. sure. I'm sorry, I thought I'd spend it all alone so… I didn't bother to get any.” She explained, stirring food in the pot before her gaze fell on her guest. 

Y/n’s eyes widened as she saw the breathtaking woman in the pink clothes. She looked… amazing, and the bright colours highlighted her.. devilishly blue eyes, making the whole look even more stunning. 

”You look… wonderful.” She breathed out with a smile, causing Kitten’s cheeks to turn red as she giggled, biting softly into her purple nail polished nails before replying 

“Thank you! You have so many clothes.. Hope I choose the right things” she quickly added, feeling a bit nervous now. 

“There wasn’t a right one, honey, you could have chosen whatever you wanted.” Y/n chuckled softly in reply, a hand on her hip as her eyes still studied in approval “I mean it, you look stunning… you can keep them” she informed Patricia before turning her focus back to the food.

With a soft blush on her cheeks Kitten thanked her, starting to help her set all the decorations that were in a box next to the bare tree, while Y/n prepared the table of the living room and searched for a Christmas movie before adding more pillows on the sofa.

As both finished to prepare the things for their lovely evening together, the dinner began. 

Both of them remained seated together on the large sofa, their arms brushing together in a comfortable way as they ate, surrounded by Christmas lights… the romantic movie on Y/n’s big, flat screen only kept adding to the nice atmosphere, as they both chatted and exchanged their dreams, overdramatically sighing and giggling.

The volume wasn’t that high so they could easily chat together, making small talk while looking at each other every now and then.. their bodies moving closer as the time passed.

“It’s been a very lovely evening” Kitten started as midnight struck, her eyes looking back at Y/n who nodded lightly, standing a couple inches away, and glancing down at her lipstick painted lips. They looked so pretty and.. delicious, Y/n couldn't help but wonder what they tasted like, and if Kitten was a good kisser.

“Yeah.. It was” she replied quietly, her hand moving slowly to Kitten’s cheek to stroke the delicate freckled skin with her thumb.

Patricia was surprised with Y/n’s bold move, and her eyes shifted, meeting Y/n’s y/e/c ones, daring to move from there down to her lips. 

Almost like in a trance, the shorter woman grazed her thumb over Kitten's full bottom lip, the urge to taste them even stronger now. 

The other woman seemed as frozen as Y/n, looking deep into her eyes. Seeing the.. need, the hunger and warm feeling, sweet feeling spilled in her stomach, making Kitten smile. As they look at each other, their gazes were almost identical, reflecting the.. rare and beautiful feelings. Y/n seemed to have more patience, as Kitten’s have quickly ran thin, causing her to lean down and connect their lips in a soft kiss. The other woman seemed delighted, the lack of responsibility to make the first move made her relax.

Y/n’s eyes shut, hands moving on the other woman's cheeks as she kissed her back, the warmth of their bodies seemed to be.. perfect. It wasn't rushed or brutal, but it didn't lack passion and lust either. Suddenly the light from the TV turned off, making the atmosphere quite more romantic, but startling them both as they jumped, parting. 

Y/n breathed deeply, looking at the now black screen with a giggle before looking back at Kitten, who seemed to be watching her with a smile on her face. 

“Thank you, Miss Kitten” The beautiful woman whispered before brushing her lips against Patricia’s, leading her to finally crack in a laugh that contaged hers as well. 

Her hands moved again to her face, holding her still to place a loving kiss against her lips 

“Was this scenario a romantic but crazy one enough for you, Love? Are we allowed now to finally start our relationship.. You Pretty woman?” Y/n hummed, dropping completely the whole act she’s been keeping up, just so that Kitten could be satisfied with the possible plot of their relationship. 

If there was something she loved most about her former childhood friend was how unique she was. Her dreamy personality and giggling over romantic scenarios and books was one of the things that Y/n loved in her the most.

Long moment of silence followed the last line of the little scenario that Kitten wanted to play off… or rather her attempt to create a bit of suspense, she broke it with her soft voice.

“Hmmm… I guess so” Patricia replied, pretending to think about it in a dramatic way, her head tilted to the side as her slender finger tapped her chin.. a grin appearing on her face as soon as she finally met Y/n’s gaze, who was leaning in for another kiss.

“I guess I’m your girlfriend now, bug” she confirmed with a giggle through the attack of pecks she was under after digging her fingers in her hips and causing her to squeak.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[gatheredfates]

a wolpertinger’s smile | evelyn rivers

Do you want to read all my FFXIV prompts? You can do that here!

STEER: guide or control the movement of (a vehicle, vessel, or aircraft). for example, by turning a wheel or operating a rudder.

His face was gripped between her thumb and forefinger, a wolpertinger’s smile of elongated fangs framed by long, blonde ears becoming harder to grasp with the widening of his mouth. Eve was pissed.

—In his defense, however, she was pissed a lot of the time. But this was not the pissed as in ‘I am unsure if I drank alcohol or drain cleaner in the last half an hour and I can’t be fucked checking,’ and more ‘the fact I am directing your gaze to me rather than slapping you silly shows the depths of my restraint’.

“Flynticus.” She was trying to be overly familiar with him this time. Being aloof and unknowable had not scared the viera off given his stupid smile was occupying her peripheral, so she was led to wonder if reversing her behavior in the other direction might weird him out enough to leave. She squeezed his cheeks harder and rocked his face for added effect. “Whose ship is this?”

“Oh, a hundred percent yours!” he answered quickly, still making that face at her. Eve’s brow twitched, worsening when he added, “my taste in decor would be better.”

Rhalgar had been a destroyer in her life in more ways than one, but this was just comical. Of all the jokes to play; of all the sickening whimsy, fanciful behavior to engage in—why this? Why couldn’t he just blow up said airship or bankrupt her on the fringes of Ul’dah? At least she’d laugh at his irony.

‘Don’t throw him off. Do not. Throw him. Off the ship. It’s too hard to explain to people what happened. There’s too many questions. Too much paperwork.’

Her tongue rolled in her mouth, clicking irritably as she replied. “Right. So. If this is my ship—my ship, we both agree it is—why th’ fuck are you touching my FUCKING steering wheel?”

“For fun—!” He barely got the words out before both her hands threw themselves into the air, an irate snarl erupting from her.

“NO. IT’S NOT FUN. IT’S NOT A FUNNY HEHOO. IT’S NOT A FUNNY HEHA. STOP! TOUCHING! MY! FUCKING! SHIP!”

“Good afternoon, Designation Evelyn!” The ship chortled back, as if it’s very mention awoke SERS from whatever stupor a patchwork AI went to when not in use. Her hands froze in the air. Her fingers curled furiously towards the palm.

“Don’t.”

Flynt just chuckled and leaned his weight against the wall, gesturing towards the computing screen where a pixelated dancing flame indicated the Systems, Engines and Reconnaissance Service was online.

“He wants you.”

“SERS. If you’re about to say what you’re going to say I swear—”

“I am pleased to report my initial search has proved fortuitous! There is a 98% likelihood the relic Designation Rexonus desires is located within ten malms in any direction! There is an additional 75% chance we’re hovering right above it!”

Eve screamed. SERS let out a mechanical scream in reply. It hadn’t caught onto the tonal differences in living beings yet.

“I knew you’d be excited!”

[an-unexpected-sideblog]

Decided to keep track of my TDS Neo-Khuzdul translations I've worked on this year (for people other than myself).

The Proper Way to Call You Mine: Thurkhu hugur du jalâkhrum astû amê. Lit: (the) way / right / to call / you / mine Title of a fic I've read; requested for a fan project! Fun to make as I had to figure out the infinitive form of "to call" from "to name" as it's not in the translator (might be in the dict.; honestly I didn't think to check and just reverse engineered it).

You mean (all) the world to me: "Samlanabîn kâmin sullu dê." Literally: (you) signify / (the) world / all / to-me. Fun fact, you can optionally leave off "sullu" for just "the world" (rather than all of it), or alternatively leave out "kâmin" to get "You mean everything to me." Had to go back and edit this one bc I realized tacking on the acc. "me" to the verb just didn't make as much sense? But idk, maybe "samlanabînê" is the way to go instead

I will not lead you into dragon fire: "Lu zazabadmizu ni uslukh'urs." Literally: not / I-will-lead-you / in(to) / dragon-fire. Finally found a post confirming that an acc. pronoun can be added to the verb as its genitive suffix when looking into this! I did combine "dragonfire" into a singular word like "campfire," but it can separated as "uslukh 'urs" (the apostrophe is still needed). Got real deep in finding future tense and perfect/imperfect again (bane of my fucking existence), but I feel good about "lu" here instead of any other options (half-lying) (resisting the urge to re-open the negation doc).

That's all for now, but I'll be posting more if (okay, when) I do more

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 22

Fic masterlist

I’m too much of a chicken to experience something remotely close to the game Rowaelin played this chapter, so I’m thanking Reddit for the lended knowledge lol. It’s very quick though I just always over-research

Warnings: brief mention of a cult, moderate alcohol intake

Words: 3,3k

They were gonna die in this hellhole, and Aelin was killing Rowan a second time when they met in the afterlife.

They’ve looked everywhere for clues, tried cracking the puzzles, turned every hint inside out. This was a dead end, and Rowan only had one job: pick the fucking lock.

Just one more lock to open this wooden box, and they’d be free.

Aelin’s heartbeat picked up when she heard voices and steps outside. They were coming back. The members of the cult were coming back.

She met Rowan’s agitated stare from across the room, but he didn’t make a fuss, just frowned at the lock and went back to work, his posture rigid.

They were absolutely going to die in this basement, and Aelin wasn’t a fan of losing.

Aelin eyed the pentagram drawn on the floor, a heavy weight on her chest. She needed to do it. There’s no other choice, she repeated to herself as she laid down on it, a sense of emptiness taking over.

"To thee, O mighty Game Master, I offer myself willingly. May my sacrifice be a beacon, lightning the way for those I leave behind in the form of one more hint.”

She heard Rowan rushing her way, but it was done. Her self-sacrifice would give him one more clue, and he’d win this game for them.

“Take me, Master,” she repeated.

“NO!” Rowan fell to his knees before her, his arms wrapped around her waist. “I can’t bear it, Aelin. I can’t.”

She stroked his cheek, nothing but resignation in her eyes. “I’m doing this for you, babe. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Let me find another way. I will find another way, Aelin—“

“Do you want me to repeat the three hints?” The escape room’s employee said through the speakers, “I know there’s a pentagram on the floor, but you can’t make a human sacrifice in exchange for another one.”

Aelin sighed, her body relaxing against the floor. Her clothes must be dirty with chalk now, and she didn’t even want to leave the game, but it would be a necessary evil. Rowan held out a hand, helping her get up.

“How’s the lock-picking thing?”

Rowan narrowed his eyes at her, humorless. “Reverse-engineering,” he corrected.

She crossed her arms, silently asking him to just answer her already.

He sighed. “Not great.”

Aelin analyzed the box and the padlock locking it, then looked at the card reader at the door. One card. One card was all they needed to win this.

Without thinking, she violently shook the box between her hands.

“What’re you doing?” Rowan said.

“It’s a wooden box. Maybe there’s a crack the card could slip through.”

Rowan froze for a moment, blinking at the scene. Then he held out his hands, “Gimme that.”

“What?”

“It’s a wooden box,” he repeated, his tone low and astonished.

Next thing she knew, he was pressing all sides of the box against the card reader. When the door unlocked, Aelin’s laugh was nothing short of maniac.

“It’s a proximity card!” she shouted while jumping on him for a hug.

“It’s a proximity card,” he echoed, tugging her impossibly closer and kissing the side of her head.

Outside the escape room, the employee looked pissed. “The combination for the lock was on the back of the blinds.”

Rowan looked completely unaffected by the snarky Game Master. “You should put the card in a metal box if you don’t want people doing it my way.”

They were met by a cool breeze outside, the sidewalk damp in a way that indicated that it must’ve rained while they were playing inside. She turned to take a look at Rowan, and he was already studying her. Despite the cloudy weather, something about him—his features, the way he carried himself, or the frequency in which his lips tugged up today—had a lightness to it, something Aelin didn’t know she longed to see so badly.

She squeezed his hand and instead of going somewhere—doing what they were actually supposed to do on a sidewalk—he leaned down and pecked her lips. It was a quiet mid-afternoon anyway, they weren’t slowing anyone down.

He hummed contently in a way he sometimes did after tasting her, cupping her face as if she was something precious.

She chuckled and checked the time. “We don’t have to pick up Maisie for another hour, so…” Aelin looked around, checking if there was somewhere interesting nearby; they had time to explore, but not too much time. She pointed at a quiet pub, wooden-looking in an old-timey way. “Wanna go there?”

It was nice having the day for themselves, no work to attend after working the graveyard shift. And as much as family time was her favorite, it was refreshing to do some adult stuff other than sneaking out from the five-year-old to get some action with Rowan.

After they woke up late in the morning, they decided their first date should have all the things they wouldn’t be able to do with a kid. So far, it included a fancy lunch somewhere they couldn’t even pronounce, some place they wouldn’t trust Maisie to hold the glasses. Then they went to a horror-themed escape room—not exactly romantic, but why not?—and their last stop was this expensive-looking pub.

They’d be back to princesses and Paw Patrol and nursery rhymes within the hour, but Aelin was excited for that too, to hang out with Maisie again. She got too spoiled with this new thing with Rowan, sleeping at his house during his days of custody. Now that she saw her daughter every day, Aelin was struggling to understand how she spent two, three days in a row without her. One sleepover at Auntie Sellene’s and she already missed Maisie like crazy.

The empty pub’s lights were dim, and the vintage furniture mixed with jazz covers of modern songs made Aelin feel like she was in an old movie. Rowan led her to a booth by the wall, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off the cocktail section of the menu.

“You want a drink,” she pointed out.

He frowned at the menu. “They just have a distinct selection, that’s all.”

Biting back a laugh, she nudged him. “Go on. I’ll drive.”

“Just one.”

She smiled. “I know, Buzzard.”

He seemed reluctant at first, but soon enough he was nursing his one whisky cocktail with a bottle of water while Aelin drank some mango juice.

“I was searching something online these days…” Rowan said, fidgeting with his cup.

“What was it?”

“I asked when I should tell my own child that I’m dating their mother. It was the first time Google completely failed me.”

Aelin snorted at the thought of a distressed Rowan searching this on his phone. She can imagine why there aren’t many online articles about their specific situation.

“Did you have a rule?” Aelin asked. “For how long before you introduce someone to Maisie, I mean.”

“Did you?”

“Six months,” she answered, plain and simple. “I never got that far with someone after Maisie, but I’ve had a bit of a relationship disaster because of this, so having the rule beforehand establishes a boundary, you know? In case somebody feels like rushing things.”

Rowan only stared at her, lips flat, looking sullen. He does know that she wouldn’t apply to him the same rules she did to a stranger, right?

“You’re not just ‘somebody’, though,” she added, “You’re her dad. That changes things.”

“Was it Lieutenant Cortland?” Rowan asked, completely changing the point of the conversation. Of everything she said, this was what he focused on?

Aelin crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed at him. “How do you even know I dated him?”

The faint blush on his cheeks must be because of the whiskey. “You told Elide, who told Lorcan, who told me.”

“Yeah, I was talking about Sam,” she finally answered, her back resting against the cushioned seat. “Single parents abide by different rules when dating, and not everyone understands that. He wanted too much too soon, and I wasn’t ready.” There was also the issue that Aelin wasn’t exactly eager to get serious with Sam, but she didn’t feel like adding this part to the conversation.

Rowan nodded, looking down at his half-empty cocktail. He looked almost crestfallen, and Aelin was struggling to understand why.

“So… six months.” He sipped his drink. “You want to wait six months before we tell people?”

Aelin wanted to argue that, technically, they’ve already told people; their best friends fit into the ‘people’ category, but that’s not what he meant. Rowan wanted to be able to kiss her in front of Maisie, feel his parents’ pride when he told them the news, stop pretending they’re not a couple at Maisie’s school so those fucking moms would stop hitting on him.

Gods, she wanted that so bad. Especially the last part.

Still, Aelin and Rowan carried a lot of responsibility together. This little bubble with no questioning of their relationship or putting more expectations on them wouldn’t last forever, but she felt comfortable in it.

Besides, Aelin didn’t like to even entertain the thought of her relationship with Rowan not working out so soon, but if it didn’t… Well, she’d like to keep a last shred of dignity, if only to attend Yulemas at Uncle Orlon’s.

“Not six months,” she finally replied. “It’s not fair to use the same rules with you as I'd use with a stranger.” Aelin grimaced. “Three? I tried asking Yrene, but she wasn’t really helpful.” Therapists and their maddening non-answer answers.

“Three months.” Rowan slowly nodded, his eyes vacant. “One down, two more to go?”

“Sounds good,” Aelin said, and Rowan agreed, but he didn’t look like it sounded good. With a sigh, she rested her chin on his shoulder and held his hand. “We can talk this over again if you realize it doesn’t sound good to you, okay? We can talk anything over again if you feel like we should.”

His answer was a kiss to her forehead.

˜˜

“Three months?!” Lysandra shrieked after Aelin told her about that conversation, and her loud tone earned a few glares from the ladies at the table near them, not that she cared. Still, she lowered her voice to say, “Honey, if I had a man like that, Timmy would be calling him ‘daddy’ by the third month.

“I mean, you could.” Aelin wiggled her eyebrows before taking another bite of her chocolate cake. Rowan was currently with Maisie, Dorian and Fenrys at the adoption event, and she used this kid-free time to try on this new pastry shop with Lys.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I could what?”

Aelin stirred her coffee, a Cheshire cat grin on her face. “Hunter told Asterin and Asterin told me that Wesley has a crush on you.” And this is completely reliable gossip because Hunter, Asterin’s husband, is close friends with him.

“Oh.”

She frowned. “You don’t sound excited.” Half of the single moms had a crush on Wesley, the widowed single dad. Aelin was part of the other half who didn’t really care about him, but could understand the appeal. And she heard her friend comment about how ‘fine’ Wesley looks more than once. “I thought you’d like to hear that.”

“Well, obviously, I’m flattered.” Lys took a bite of her lemon pie, her chin in her hand while she clamped her lips shut to hide a smile. “But I kind of just started seeing someone.”

Aelin gaped, surprised. “Tell me.”

She didn’t know who he or she was, but she was happy for her. Mala knows the amount of shit she took from Timmy’s dad, some entitled man from Adarlan she hated just from hearing a few stories here and there.

“So, remember that birthday party we went to last month?” Aelin nodded, so Lys continued, “You posted a picture with me. You tagged me in it.”

“As millennial Instagram etiquette requires me to do.”

“Your cousin Aedion followed me, and—“

“No!” Aelin poured all the disgust she felt into that one word, grimacing. “I mean, ew!”

Lys straightened her posture. “I get it if you're upset.”

“Why would I be upset? Because you’re too good for my idiot cousin?” Aelin schooled her face into neutrality and sighed, trying to look a little more serious so she could give Lys a proper response. “Look, it��s fine. Just spare me from the sordid details, and we’re good.”

“Alright.” She relaxed into her chair, looking pleased with that answer.

“So you two are a thing now?”

“Not exactly. We chatted a lot and he asked me out, but I didn’t want to go without checking with you first. But I also didn’t want to make a fuss because of one date, you know? So I went. It was amazing. I blamed it on the sangria for making me see the date through rose-colored glasses. So I went on another one, completely sober, just to make sure. It was so good that I almost begged him to fuck—“

“Fucking Mala!” Aelin’s face morphed back into disgust. “Okay, I get it, it’s new. Good luck with his pineapple pizza obsession.”

To be honest, she wasn’t all that repulsed, and she totally blamed it on Rowan. It was those near-daily nighttime orgasms and early morning cuddles—sometimes orgasms again—getting to her head. Aelin was so happy she felt delirious; and after all Aed and Lys have been through in the dating scene, if they managed to find that as well, she was happy for them.

Said reason for her incredible mood texted her, asking her to drop by his place to talk. As if she’d go anywhere else, being his day of Maisie’s custody. His tone almost made it feel like old times, but Aelin knew better. They had a child together, they always had something to talk about.

Knowing her daughter, the adoption fair must’ve been a total chaos. Aelin told Dorian it was a bad idea to bring Maisie along, but her friend insisted on playing the cool uncle.

She promised that she wouldn’t ask for a dog at the fair, but it was just to set expectations. Maisie’s a puppy-loving five-year-old, it’d be ridiculous to think that she wouldn’t throw a tantrum when he saw countless puppies for adoption.

On the way home, her chest constricted to think of a distressed Rowan trying to wrangle his daughter. He was probably exhausted.

Aelin parked her car outside. She grabbed her key to his house—which they recently traded for practicality—but before she could get to the porch, Rowan jumped out of Maisie’s bedroom window, his hulking figure swaying a little as he landed. He darted her way before she could enter the house.

She grasped his face with both hands and kissed him, and it lit her up from inside out, waking up the fluttery feeling that kept mostly dormant while she was away. “Was this a throwback?” She gave the window a pointed look. “Because if you’re trying to make me think of our first night together…”

When he jumped her bedroom window because she still lived with Uncle Orlon and Darrow. Aelin had no idea she’d think about that night to this day.

Rowan didn’t look overwhelmed by memories of great sexy times, though. The crease between his eyebrows was deeper than usual, his lips tightly pressed together. He took a glance at the window he came through.

“We need to talk.”

He looked serious. Way too serious. Aelin took a step back, his keys still on her hand while her pulse picked up. “Is Maisie alright?”

“Yes!” He grimaced, realizing that his secretiveness freaked her out. “She’s alright, but I did something…”

Aelin tuned him out, her mom instincts taking over. She hurried to his front door, as fast as her breathing, and opened it without listening to Rowan and whatever made his speech frantic. She’d check on Maisie, then she’d pay attention to him.

And that’s when she saw it.

It looked like a hurricane passed through his living room. His coffee table was a mess, full of papers and unopened shopping bags. Pet shop shopping bags. A small, pink carrier was left on the corner, close to some uncleaned dog poop.

He wouldn’t.

Rowan absolutely wouldn’t. Not without telling her first.

Aelin shot her most menacing look of disbelief at him but, to be fair, Rowan held his ground. Her fury never scared him but, right now, she wished otherwise.

The house was absolutely silent, and he didn’t fight her this time when she marched into Maisie’s bedroom.

When she opened the door, her daughter’s wide grin paused the boiling under her skin.

“Hi, Mommy,” she whisper-yelled. There was a small ball of golden fur asleep on the little girl’s arm, so she couldn’t get up to greet Aelin. It was obnoxiously cute. Like meeting a new mom at a maternity ward, but it’s little girls and puppies. “I’ll tell you when Fleetfoot’s awake, so we can play with her.”

Aelin kissed Maisie’s forehead. “I’d love that.” Then she left as quietly as she came in.

He fucking did it, Aelin realized, heat plummeting through her stiff muscles.

“Seriously, Rowan?” she whisper-yelled back in the living room.

He opened his mouth to speak but Aelin beat him to it.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she pointed at the direction of Maisie’s closed bedroom door. “You gave her a dog? And you didn’t think to consult her own mother first?”

“I’m sorry.” Rowan looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “I tried my best bribes—“

She plastered a fake smile on. “Let me guess, they didn’t work.”

Rowan put both hands up, a flicker of relief on his face, like Aelin was finally beginning to understand him. “Yes! And—“

Aelin could only imagine the scene Maisie must’ve caused. Still, she yelled, “And you have no authority over a five-year-old?”

He does. Aelin knows he does, as much as she knows she’s prone to say hurtful things when she’s mad.

“Come on, Aelin, the house is big. It’s staying on my place, I’m taking full financial and caregiving responsibilities—

Aelin tilted her head back, her angry laughter almost berserk. “You fucking bet you are!”

His entire posture deflated, and Rowan had a wounded expression intense enough she looked away.

“Can’t we just talk?” Rowan’s voice was soft in an uneasy way, a mix of hesitancy and vulnerability. “We could go back to Yrene’s pdfs and—“

“Not now.” Aelin crossed her arms. “I’m gonna rage alone at home until I feel empty, and then I’m gonna think about it. Once I’m done thinking about it without wanting to say mean things to you, I’ll let you know.”

“And if you don’t?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Stop feeling angry, I mean.”

She adjusted her purse around her shoulder. “Then I’ll see you in therapy.”

They were still going, though their sessions have been rather uneventful after they got together. Maybe Yrene knew something like this would blow up sometime. Whatever. Aelin’s not the shrink here.

Rowan nodded without meeting her eye, then let her go.

She didn’t even get her car, needing the small trek to her house. Way too small for all the thinking she needed to do, actually.

The chilly wind bit into her bones, and Aelin soon regretted the thin shirt she wore. The street was deserted, the ruffle of the sidewalk trees being the background noise to her thoughts.

Fuck, that dog is cute. No matter how much Aelin raged, how petty she acted, she knew how this would end.

Besides, it wasn’t about the dog. Deep down, Aelin knew why she was upset.

They got together, and when they were starting to feel like an united front, Rowan committed to a decade-long life decision without her. What was up with that?

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[itsblasttothepast]

I just wanna say that you defending Checo is the best part of my day.

This whole situation is tiring and I really would love for RBR to finally make some official decisions because I have had enough of all the speculations and people saying Sergio will be out even though he has a contract and he said multiple times he will be back after the break.

I don't understand why people think him and Max hate each other (more so why RBR posting Max/Daniel video or them flying together to Monaco where they both live would be a proof of that) when they said over and over again that they have a good relationship and Max is defending Checo every weekend - I doubt PR could force him to do that, he doesn't look like the type to play into PR games.

The whole "Daniel vs Sergio" is a horrible situation made worse by media and the "fans" because I don't see them acting any different around each other (though the whole incident with Daniel's team spreading rumours still gives me an ick) and I don't know why being friends with Max is somehow taken into consideration???? Like Daniel is his best friend on the grid, he said that many many times and because of that he can't like Checo? Where's the logic? It's very preschool to say that: "he's my best friend and only mine and he can't be friends with anyone else". Ridiculous.

It was fine for a moment but it turned really toxic rather quickly and it's disgusting, it is possible to like a driver without hating their competitors. Also, I don't think Daniel proved himself enough to take the seat mid season, (Yuki beaten him almost always) and it wouldn't make sense to reverse all the progress Sergio made to put the entire WCC on an unknown. But I agree Checo needs to do better - he had a terrible luck lately and made some mistakes but he wasn't that bad, not sure what it is because he was flying in quali and then got fucked over with the strategy but he deserves a fair chance (and please don't get me started on the whole "they fired Pierre and Alex for less" because it's a completely different situation - they were not fighting for the top spot then)

Sorry for the rant, I'm just really sick of this situation.

(Also because apparently it's important in the whole debate somehow - I am a Checo fan, I'm indifferent towards Daniel and RBR and I am from Europe)

Don't worry anon, I love good rants, particularly from Checo fans, you are amazing, and I hug you so hard!

I do agree Checo has made mistakes, but he was improving. It's something I can't understand, some practices he's really good, and then qualy ends awfully and has to make it up in the race. In this race in particularly, I do blame RBR for the drop in places. Checo complained about the energy thing (I only know the words in Spanish, sorry, but something about needing power because he was too slow) and the tyre thing... I think Horner knows they fucked up, because he said that 'this race won't have an impact in Checo's future in RBR', whatever, I don't believe you Horner. Yesterday in qualy, he almost stays at Q2 because his engineer made a mistake, the team is having a hard time with the strategies and it shows, particularly with Checo.

I'm with you, RBR needs to just say something about this instead of letting everyone (press, haters and fans of other drivers) run wild with the rumours.

The fact that people still believe Max hates Checo baffles me. They say he has to act like this because PR stuff, but Max is Max. Let's remember their divorce in 2022, shots were fired, frosty things during PR... they really think Max would just pretend for PR? Particularly the touchy feely way he is with Checo? But whatever, they can think that, if only didn't mean spewing shit about Checo, but no, they have to say nasty things about him.

I understand how you feel anon, and feel free to share your thoughts here, is a Checo fans Space for all of us, loving that you are european, I'm biased because the press is mean, but I know Checo has fans there, so glad to meet (sorta) one of them!

So anon, being a Checo fan:

[lemongrovesandcloves]

The Mime of Gotham City

a lil snippet of chapter three - only available on ao3 :)

"

The Red Hood was not a nice man. 

Jason Todd had been a kind boy, though. Sweet in that foolish way that all kids are, so desperate to help the city that pissed on him daily. 

Odd jobs for old ladies, walking neighbourhood children up to daycare… little shit that made such a tiny yet profound difference. It had felt natural to extend it further. To mess with motorbikes used by gang members, to steal enough gas masks from trucks to outfit his whole neighbourhood. 

Hell, he’d stolen the wheels of the Batmobile with the goal of reverse engineering the bulletproof capabilities. 

What was he on about? 

Oh… yeah. He’d been an alright kid. 

He wasn’t so much of that, now. Not after that kind boy’s life was cut violently short. Not after Jason had clawed his way from dirt, had forced his flesh to contort to humanity anew as he stumbled blind and furious. 

A few years of traumatising his family, gallivanting the world to do the fucked shit no one else would, and watching half his friends die and the other half retire… well, Red Hood wasn’t exactly a big believer in human kindness. 

That fact, the bitter truth that there were more shitheads than decent folk, was so utterly transparent in the chill in the air. It was evident in the soft ripple of warning that rolled up his spine, in the eerie silence as he stared from his perch at the window of the warehouse. 

 The job for this evening was supposed to be relatively simple. A couple of Joker’s goons had showed up in Black Mask’s territory, and word had gotten out of some kind of trade happening in the warehouses tonight between the gangs. 

“Not a lot of muscle for a shipment.” He muttered over his coms, eyes focused on the trucks rolling out of the warehouse before him. 

“I’m checking cameras, but I can’t see any backup,” Oracle’s frown was audible as the soft clatter of keys rung over the line. “Heads up, the big bat is on his way.”

Jason let out a grunt. 

“He’s worried.” She spoke gently. “This feels… odd.” 

He didn’t bother to hide his snort at that. Of course it felt off. It was Joker. When had that clown ever done anything that felt normal? 

“I think my intel may have been off.” he begrudged, eyes flicking over the trucks until they settled on a faintly green gleam, flittering through the windows of the warehouse. 

“How so?” Oracle replied, her voice faint as Jason’s eyes narrowed on the flickers from the warehouse. 

“There is no deal.” He grunted. “But there’s… something in the warehouse.”

“I can send backup.”

He snorted in reply. 

“Just the Big bat or is there a little bird on the way, too?” 

“Big bat. He’s almost at your location.”

With a huff, Jason flicked his coms on mute. Of course Babs would ‘offer’ backup that was already on the way - the worst person to fight by his side, really. In his brief stint with his former family (though he wondered whether such a title was warranted, considering most of the birds had shown up after his demise), Jason had quickly learned just how little his opinion seemed to matter to them. It was such a simple thing, to agree to having backup, yet each time that support was already on the way before he could confirm whether he needed them. 

His say on the matter was pretty moot to them. Even if he refused their help, they were waiting in the shadows and expecting him to fail. All so some teenager in lycra could natter about how right Oracle was, or how Jason was foolish for refusing aid. 

It was inevitable. And it was fucking annoying. 

Arching his grapple, he shot through the upper window of the warehouse. At least he had a little time to investigate before Batman would crash the party, grouching and mistrusting each of Jason’s gestures. 

The intel had been a trap. 

"

[gaypiece]

Another Life; Ch 2

Part 2 of my OP isekai bullshit daydream! I am always open to feedback!!! I’m half asleep posting this so i may come back and edit cws and description

Ch1 // Ch3

Chapter 2: The Surgeon of Death

☁︎ word count: 3.5k

☁︎cw: named self insert, bit of anxiety

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Consciousness came back to me slowly. I was vaguely aware of a steady beeping sound nearby. This confused me. I was sure I had died, and I didn’t think the afterlife would sound like a hospital. My eyes fluttered, cracking open lethargically. The lights above me were bright, and I could tell that I was indoors somewhere. My head turned to the sound of the beeping, silently rejoicing the fact that I was able to move again. There was a monitor to my left, displaying my heart rate and other information my foggy brain didn’t care to make sense of.

”Good, you’re awake.”

I would have jumped in surprise, had I not been so sluggish. But, did I know that voice? I turned to find the source. He stood with his back to me, writing something on a clipboard. The hat he wore. . .

He turned to me then, and my stomach dropped. No fucking way. What kind of Isekai bullshit. . .?

”You’re lucky we found you when we did. What were you thinking, eating that fruit?” He must have noticed the way I paled, and my jump in heart rate. He added, “No need to be afraid, you’re safe,” though, his golden eyes seemed almost as cautious as I was.

I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. “I-I’m not— you don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he muttered. He turned away from me again, setting the clipboard down.

I laughed once, humorlessly. “At least I’m not the only one who’s confused.” I ran my hands over my face in my distress. I kept my face covered as I tried to remember my breathing exercises: in four seconds, hold four seconds. Out four seconds, hold four seconds. Repeat.

He seemed to realize what I was doing, not speaking as I tried to calm myself. Once my heart slowed, I removed my hands from my face and tried to sit. My head swam.

He reached a hand out to me, as if to steady me, but didn’t touch me. “Take it easy, you’ve been out for a while. We don’t need you passing out again.”

”How long?” I asked.

”We found you two days ago.”

Two days. That makes five since I woke up on that forest floor. If I weren’t incapacitated for most of it, the time might have been enough to convince me this was real.

”I never got your name,” he stated, interrupting my thoughts.

”Rain. Aspen Rain.”

”Trafalgar Law.”

My heart jumped again. “I know.”

”I thought so, given your reaction to seeing me.”

I laughed again. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He studied me a moment, still cautious.

”Why did you help me?” I asked suddenly. I knew his character well enough to know that Law wasn’t exactly the hero type. Not that type to go out of the way to help a random person unless there was some benefit to him.

My question caught him off guard. He looked away again, fumbling to respond at first. “We came to the island looking for that fruit you ate. I wanted to study its paralytic properties for possible medical use in the future, and reverse engineer an antidote that might work for other, similar situations. You could imagine my surprise when we arrived to find someone poisoned by exactly the fruit I was looking for. You were a convenient test subject.” I nodded along as he explained. Of course, saving me was a convenience, but it almost sounded like an excuse. He may have been able to perform whatever tests he needed even if I wasn’t alive for it. “You know,” he turned to me once more, “you could have eaten any other fruit on that island and been fine. You’re lucky someone with my capabilities found you. Or that anyone found you at all, for that matter.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered, “eating the only poisonous fruit on the whole damned island.”

He almost cracked a smile. ”What were you doing there anyway?”

I stared at him, unsure if he truly wanted to know about the strange situation. Deciding I had nothing to lose, I told him, “I don’t know.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you ‘don’t know’?”

“I mean,” I took a deep breath, “I fell asleep in my bed, at home, and woke up on a forest floor with nothing to my name, and not even a hint of a soul around.” My voice rose as I spoke, nearing hysterics. “Not to mention, I went to sleep a normal human being, and woke up with fucking cat ears.” I made a vague gesture at my head for more emphasis.

”And tail,” he noted. “I can see now why you’re so confused.”

”I have a tail??” I couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted out of me. “This is insane,” I giggled. “I’m going insane.”

”I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all of this.” He seemed to be reassuring himself more than me.

I tried to collect myself, breathing deeply again. Once I could control my voice, I said, “I haven’t even told you the craziest part yet.”

He looked even more apprehensive now. “Tell me.” He pulled a chair to the end of the hospital bed and sat, facing me. Good. He would need to be sitting for this.

Once again, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to steady myself. “What if I told you,” I began, “you’re not supposed to be real? What if I told you that I know of you not just as a pirate captain and former warlord, but as a character from my favorite TV show?”

He stared at me blankly, almost as if he was waiting for me to say I was joking. When I didn’t, he told me, “You’re insane.”

“That’s the conclusion I came to as well, and exactly how I expected you to respond.” My tone was resigned.

His tattooed hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be collecting himself. Wondering just what the hell he got himself into by rescuing me, I figured. Suddenly, Law stood, pulling on a pair of medical gloves and beginning to disconnect the wires and tubes attached to me. He spoke as he moved. “I have some things to tend to. I’m going to have someone bring you some food and show you to the showers so you can get cleaned up. Then we’ll decide what to do with you.” He refused to meet my eyes. “Hold still, this will probably be uncomfortable.” He quickly and efficiently removed a feeding tube from my nose, wordlessly handing me a tissue afterward.

I remained still and silent as he worked over me, trying to ignore the way my heart thudded on the occasion his gloved fingers brushed against my skin.

He didn’t speak again as he gathered a few things and headed toward the door. He turned to me then, but still didn’t meet my gaze. “Someone will be in shortly. Just. . . don’t say anything crazy to them.” He waited for my nod, then the door closed with a soft click.

As soon as I was alone, I curled myself into a ball, wrapping my arms around myself for some sense of security in this foreign place. I was unable to stop the tears that welled up, lost and confused as I was. What was happening, and why? It’s one thing to wake up in a strange place, but entirely different to wake up in a different world. Why did this happen? Why the world of my favorite anime? And why, out of every possible person, did it have to be my fictional crush from this universe to find me? There were too many questions buzzing around in my head, questions that I didn’t have answers to.

I wondered if my world went on without me, or was it frozen in time? Perhaps I had died and this was some bizarre afterlife. I wondered if I had simply disappeared, just as I seemingly appeared here. Would my fiancé search for me? Would my family? How was I going to get back? What if I never did? My stomach dropped.

As I deliberated, the door reopened and someone entered the room, prompting me to quickly dry my eyes. I recognized my visitor as Ikkaku, the only female member of Law’s crew. I didn’t know much about her, and wasn’t sure what to expect of her personality. She wheeled a cart in after her, which held two plates of steaming food and a pitcher of water. The smell of the food had my mouth watering, tastebuds restless after not eating for so long.

“You have some timing,” she stated as our eyes met. “Lunch was just about to be served when the captain asked me to bring you food.” She stopped the cart at my bedside, moving the chair which Law previously sat in to the other side. “I’m Ikkaku, by the way,” she informed me as she took her seat, facing me. “What should I call you?”

”Rain,” I said. “Or Aspen. Either is fine.”

She asked, “What do your friends call you?”

”Rain.”

“Rain it is.” She grinned at me before digging into one of the plates upon the cart.

I hesitated, shy.

”It’s not poisoned,” Ikkaku teased.

Her bubbly nature softened my reserve. With the slightest smile, I scooted toward the edge of the bed where the cart sat. Timid as ever, I didn’t meet Ikkaku’s eyes as I reached for the water pitcher, filling both of our glasses. She thanked me cheerfully before taking a sip. I mirrored her, relishing the taste of the cold, refreshing water. I didn’t realize just how thirsty I was, quickly emptying my glass. I immediately refilled it, only to empty it halfway again.

”Slow down,” Ikkaku warned. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

I obeyed, studying my plate as I gave myself time to breathe. It was some kind of stir fried noodle dish, nothing elaborate. Still, I salivated. I was unable to make myself wait very long before digging in. I gave an appreciative hum as I chewed, it was an effort not to moan instead. Maybe it was the fact that I just almost starved to death, but nothing had ever tasted better.

”Oh, come on,” Ikkaku scoffed. “Uni’s cooking isn’t that good.”

I spoke with my mouth half full. “I almost starved to death, give me a break,” I half-joked.

She laughed, and I found it difficult not to return her smile. I decided I could get along with Ikkaku.

”So,” she began, sipping at her water again, “does the captain know you from somewhere?”

I paused in surprise and confusion. “I . . . don’t think so, why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen him so quick to save a stranger,” she mused, “except for that Straw Hat at Marineford.”

“Um. . . Well, he did tell me that he was trying to make an antidote for the poison of the fruit I ate.”

”Coincidence,” Ikkaku contradicted. “He didn’t know you were poisoned when we found you, but insisted on helping you the moment he saw you.”

”Huh.” So it was an excuse. But why would he have wanted to help me so badly? “No, we’ve never met before. I’m not sure why he would do that.”

“Well, as out of character as it might’ve been for him, I’m not one to question my captain. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

I hummed in agreement, chewing my food slowly as I mulled over the possibilities. Nothing I could come up with seemed logical. I could see that Ikkaku had more questions, but neither of us spoke again as we finished eating.

Ikkaku stood once both of our plates were empty. “Now! Let’s get you a shower!”

I followed her quietly as she led me through the hallways of the Polar Tang. She briefly stopped at a closet, pulling out a boiler suit like hers, and holding it up to me to judge the size. She explained that it was the only clothing she could offer me to change into. I took it gladly, thankful to have clean clothes after being stuck in the same outfit for days. Ikkaku then led me to the showers, leaving me at the door. She explained where I could find the soap and towels, then told me that she would be waiting on the other side of the door once I was done, and to let her know if I needed anything. I was grateful for the time alone, locking the door behind me as a precaution.

As I looked in the mirror, I was almost surprised to see that I was still me. I looked a bit thinner, maybe, along with some other changes, but I was still the same Rain. My eyes were the same hazel they had always been, but I now had slits for pupils. This almost explained my improved vision. Cat eyes to go with my cat ears. And tail. Ugh. I could see it flicking behind me in annoyance. It was black, as were my new ears. My hair, which had previously been dyed pastel pink, my natural dark brown showing at the roots, now seemed to grow naturally pink. Weird. I noticed that half of my face was bright red, I assumed from the sunburn. Though, it looked as if it was medicated while I was unconscious. That was going to be a fun tan line. I shook my head in annoyance, tail still flicking, as I headed to the shower.

Ikkaku smiled at me brightly once I emerged from the room, freshened up and ready to go. The boiler suit was a tad long on me, and I had to roll up the sleeves and pant legs to accommodate my short limbs. There was no hole for my tail to come out of in the back, so it was stuffed into the suit with the rest of my body. It was uncomfortable, and grew even more so as I walked, following Ikkaku to our next destination. I made a note to myself to modify it if I had to continue wearing it. Ikkaku chittered as we walked, talking about the other crew members, explaining that they were doing chores, which was why we weren’t seeing them. I wasn’t listening, really. I was anxious to find out how Law wanted to deal with me.

Ikkaku stopped to knock on a door, and waited for permission to enter. My heart skipped a beat when Law’s voice said, “Come in,” from the other side, and Ikkaku opened the door, allowing me to enter first. I stepped into what appeared to be Law’s office. The walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books. There seemed to be only two areas on the wall not containing books: another door, which I guessed led to Law’s bedroom, and a little alcove nestled into the shelves, containing a cushioned bench and a window, through which I could see that we were still at the island where I woke up. Taking up almost half of the space of the room was a large, disorganized desk, facing the doorway I entered from. At this desk was where Law sat, thoughtful eyes trained on me from the moment I had entered.

Ikkaku was about to follow me in, when Law said, “You can go, Ikkaku.”

“Right!” Ikkaku responded, turning on her heel.

”Close the door before you go.”

She hesitated the slightest bit, eyeing me with concern. “Good luck,” she whispered to me before shutting the door.

”Have a seat,” Law ordered, nodding to the chairs in front of his desk. I obeyed silently. “You have two options,” he told me. “You can stay here, where we found you—“

”Pass.”

He paused at my interruption, giving me a disapproving look. “Or,” he continued, “we can drop you at the next island we stop at, provided it’s not deserted.”

I considered the idea, but where would I go? Was I to just start a new life in this world that I didn’t belong in? Would I be able to? How would I find my way home? Then, an idea occurred to me.

”Can I join your crew?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “That wasn’t an option.”

”I don’t like the options you gave me. It’s called ‘negotiation’.”

Raising a brow, he said, “Give me one reason why I would want you on my crew.”

I sighed. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I can show you that I’m not. At least, not entirely. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell’s going on, myself, but I won’t ask you to help me. Just let me stay, and I can be useful.” I looked into his eyes then, a strenuous task for me, given my shyness and Law’s intimidating aura. My tone was almost pleading. “I have nowhere to go. I know that you know what that’s like.”

His eyes softened just slightly, but he didn’t seem to like the use of reverse psychology. “How would you know that?”

”Believe it or not, I know a lot about you, Trafalgar. Things your crew might not even know. Don’t forget where I told you I know about you from.”

He seemed irked that I would bring it up again, and his tone was skeptical as he humored me. “What exactly do you know about me?”

I took a deep breath as I prepared to state everything I knew about this man. “Trafalgar D. Water Law, also known as The Surgeon of Death, wielder of the Ope Ope no Mi Devil Fruit ability, captain of the Heart Pirates, former Warlord of the Sea, a title you obtained by delivering the hearts of one hundred pirates to the world government.” He seemed almost unfazed as I rattled off the basic information, only reacting when I said the “D” in his name. “Born October sixth, you are twenty-six years old, a Libra, six feet and three inches tall, blood type F. You were born in a country called Flevance, located in the North Blue, nicknamed ‘White Town’ after the White Lead that was mined there.” His face began to pale. “You lived there with your younger sister and your parents, who were doctors and trained you and your sister to be as well. For this reason, the Ope Ope no Mi Devil Fruit was an excellent fit for you.” I averted my eyes. “For your sake, I won’t get into the details of how you came across the devil fruit. I assume it’s a touchy subject.” When I glanced back up at Law, the look he was giving me was deadly. “Do I need to continue?”

”How do you know all of that?”

”I already told you how I know.” I folded my arms across my chest.

He stared me down. Though my cheeks burned, I gave him an unwavering look of my own.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” Still suspicious.

”You don’t, I suppose. But I’ve been completely honest with you this whole time. I have no reason to lie, and nothing to lose. All I’m asking for is a place to stay for the time being. If you don’t trust me, take my heart if it will give you some peace of mind.”

”Keep your heart.” He almost seemed like he was starting to believe me. “Tell me about this . . . TV show.”

“It’s called ‘One Piece’ and it follows Straw Hat Luffy’s journey to become Pirate King . . .” I continued, explaining only relevant details, such as the places the Straw Hats had visited, where I was in the story, and the differences between this world and the one I came from. Occasionally, he would ask for more details, and I would give them to him, surprising myself with how much I remembered. He seemed more convinced with each detail I gave him of my world. His eyes didn’t leave me the entire time I spoke, and when I finished, he continued his piercing gaze, seeming contemplative. This time, I found it difficult to stare back, shying away from his intense look. I was grateful when he spoke before I started blushing again.

”You said that you can be useful. How?”

”Umm . . . I would probably be most useful in the kitchen. I’m a decent cook, but I’m more of a baker. I suppose that comes with the territory of the family name.” I chuckled slightly at my joke. “Other than that, I’m pretty good at tinkering and fixing things, anything involving creativity, really. I’m probably no good in a fight right now, but I can train. And I am a quick study, if there’s anything else you may want me to do.”

He stared at me a few more moments before he sighed, seeming to give in. “Just to be clear,” he began, “I still think you’re insane. However, you seem trustworthy enough, and you’re right.” His gaze softened. “I won’t leave you with nowhere to go.”

”So . . .?”

”So,” he repeated, pausing as he hesitated, “welcome to the Heart Pirates.”

I could have cried with the relief I felt. I had somewhere to stay. “Thank you,” I breathed, hanging my head.

”I will be keeping an eye on you though,” he warned. “Don’t make me regret this.”

”I promise, I’ll do my very best.”

He stood. “Come with me. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶