#i was waiting on someone to call her out but she really just made a fool of herself no questions asked huh

[aceyalonso]

pretty in pink - CARLOS SAINZ

pairing : carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader kinktober day 16 - lingerie

summary : spending 23 grand on a shopping spree? that's something only y/n can do, but of course the money spent will always be worth it, especially when she gets something that can benefit her and carlos

warnings/notes : swearing, a bit of plot, smut, spit, nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, anal sex, mention and use of sex toys, gagging, praise kink, explicit photography (with consent of course)

word count : 5.7k

a/n : sorry if this took so long, i was so busy these past few days

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Y/n walked through the front door, arms laden with shopping bags. "I'm home!" she called out cheerfully, expecting Carlos to greet her. When there was no response, she assumed he must still be asleep after his training session this morning.

Humming to herself, Y/n made her way to the kitchen, setting her purchases down on the counter. She opened the refrigerator door, bending over to grab a bottle of water.

Suddenly, strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest. Y/n let out a startled yelp, heart leaping into her throat as she spun around.

Carlos grinned down at her, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well hello there, beautiful," he purred, voice low and husky. "Welcome home."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling back. "You scared me half to death, you jerk," she laughed, playfully swatting his chest. "I thought you were asleep."

Carlos chuckled, his hands sliding down to rest on Y/n's hips. "Oh, I was sleeping like a baby...until the bank called to ask if my credit card had been stolen. Apparently, someone went on quite the shopping spree today."

Y/n bit her lip, trying to look innocent. "I may have gone a little overboard," she admitted sheepishly. "But you know how it is when the girls drag you out shopping. One minute you're just browsing, and the next you've maxed out three credit cards."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused. "Eight thousand dollars at Sephora? What exactly did you buy, love? The entire store?"

Y/n giggled, leaning into him. "Maybe. But you should see the new eyeshadow palettes I got! They're to die for."

"And don't even get me started on Victoria's Secret," Carlos teased, his hands dipping lower. "Fifteen grand? I think that's more than the GDP of some small countries."

Y/n giggled, playfully swatting Carlos' chest. "C'mon, don't be such a killjoy! I got it for you!"

Realizing how that sounded, her eyes widened and she backpedaled quickly. "Wait, no, that came out wrong! I didn't buy you lingerie to wear, I swear!"

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? Because I have to say, I'm a bit interested in this... development."

"No, no, nothing like that!" Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "I just figured you'd like seeing me in some of the new sets I got. You know, for your viewing pleasure and all that."

She bit her lip, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I'll model them for you after dinner, if you'd like. Give you a little private fashion show."

Carlos' eyes darkened, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. "Mmm, I think I'd like that very much, amor."

After dinner, Y/n led Carlos to their bedroom, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have three sets to show you tonight," she purred, her hands sliding up his chest. "And I think you're going to like them very much."

She disappeared into the walk-in closet for a moment before emerging in a stunning white lingerie set. The bra was all lace and delicate straps, barely containing her ample breasts. The matching thong was equally skimpy, hugging her hips and leaving little to the imagination.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked, doing a slow spin. The white lace contrasted beautifully against her golden skin, making her look like a naughty angel.

Carlos' eyes darkened with lust, his hands flexing at his sides. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You look gorgeous."

Y/n smiled, pleased by Carlos' reaction. "Thank you, baby," she purred, giving him a quick smile before sauntering back into the closet to change into the next set.

A moment later, she emerged in a stunning blue satin ensemble. The bra was a plunging push-up style, making her breasts look even more voluptuous than usual. The high-waisted panties hugged her curves, the satin smooth and cool against her skin.

"What do you think of this one?" Y/n asked, striking a pose. She ran her hands down her sides, tracing the curves of her waist and hips. "I thought the color would bring out my eyes."

Carlos' mouth went dry at the sight of her, his cock already starting to harden in his shorts. "It does," he managed, his voice strained. "It brings out how fucking sexy you are."

Y/n chuckled, her eyes flickering down to the growing bulge in Carlos' shorts. "Whoa there, big boy," she teased, sauntering closer to him. "We've got one more set to go. You need to calm down before you explode."

She reached out, trailing a finger along the waistband of his shorts, feeling the heat of his skin. "Although," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "I can't blame you. I'd be pretty excited too if I had a sexy girlfriend parading around in lingerie."

Carlos groaned, his hips bucking into her touch. "Fuck, Y/n," he growled, his hands settling on her hips. "You're killing me here."

Y/n grinned, giving his bulge a little squeeze before stepping back. "Patience, Carlos," she said, placing a peck on the corner of his lips. "The best is yet to come."

With that, she turned and headed back to the closet to change into the final set, leaving Carlos aching and wanting.

Y/n emerged from the closet for the final time, and Carlos' breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a soft baby pink set, the color he loved most on her. The bra was a delicate lace bralette, barely containing her full breasts. The matching thong was equally sweet, a tiny bow adorning the front.

"This one's my favorite," Carlos said hoarsely, his eyes devouring her. "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n."

Y/n smiled, pleased by his reaction. She did a little twirl, the fabric riding up to reveal the curve of her ass. "I'm glad you like it," she purred, walking towards him. "I picked it just for you."

She stopped in front of him, looping her arms around his neck. "So, what do you think of the whole collection?" she asked, pressing her body against his. "Did I do a good job?"

Carlos nodded, his lips brushing against Y/n's skin as he spoke. "Mhm," he murmured between kisses, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.

He pressed his mouth to her abdomen, trailing kisses across her soft skin. "Turn around for me, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see the back again."

Y/n shivered at the command in his tone, and the way he took charge. She obeyed without hesitation, slowly turning in a circle so he could admire the view.

The thong rode up as she moved, revealing the curve of her ass and the tiny pink thong nestled between her cheeks. Carlos groaned, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze.

Carlos' eyes darkened with lust as Y/n turned, revealing the tantalizing view of her ass barely covered by the thin pink thong. "Dios mio," he breathed, his hands flexing with the urge to grab and squeeze. "Can I rip it off?"

"Carlos, no," Y/n protested weakly, even as a thrill raced through her at his intensity. "I just bought this a few hours ago."

But he was already moving, his large hands gripping her hips and spinning her back around. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers in the delicate fabric of the thong and ripped, the sound of tearing lace filling the room.

Y/n gasped as the flimsy garment gave way, Carlos tossing it aside carelessly. He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her with a predatory gleam in his eye.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands roaming over her bare skin. "I can't wait to ruin you."

Y/n whined as Carlos manhandled her, his rough treatment sending a thrill through her body despite her protests. "Carlos, c'mon," she pleaded, even as her hips bucked up against him. "I really liked that set."

Carlos just grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "Sorry, baby," he purred, nipping at her earlobe. "But you look even better out of it."

He kissed down her neck, his hands sliding under her to unhook the delicate bra. With a flick of his fingers, the clasp came undone, and he tossed the lacy garment aside.

Y/n's breasts spilled free, and Carlos groaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growled, cupping the soft mounds in his hands. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out to tease a pebbled nipple.

She arched into the touch, a moan escaping her lips. "Carlos," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Please..."

Carlos paused, looking up at Y/n with a raised eyebrow. "Please what?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "Are you asking me to stop ruining your pretty lingerie?"

Y/n bit her lip, shaking her head. "No," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not asking you to stop."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Carlos' face. "That's what I thought," he purred, his lips curving into a smirk.

He continued his journey down her body, his kisses growing more heated as he went. He nuzzled the soft skin of her belly, his stubble rasping against her sensitive flesh.

Lower and lower he went, until his face was level with her pelvis. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. "I'll buy you another pair of this set tomorrow," he promised, his voice muffled against her skin. "But for now..."

Carlos dipped his head between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving into her folds with sensual, deliberate strokes. He took his time, savoring the taste of her, the way she writhed and moaned beneath him.

"Carlos, baby," Y/n gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "So good, god you're so good."

She ground against his face, her hips bucking as she chased her pleasure. But Carlos wasn't having it. He pushed her hips back down, holding her in place.

"Calm down, mi amor," he murmured against her skin, his voice vibrating through her. "I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. But she forced herself to still, trusting Carlos to bring her to the heights of ecstasy.

Carlos rewarded her obedience with a long, slow lick, his tongue swirling around her clit. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, building her pleasure steadily.

Carlos continued his assault on Y/n's pussy, his tongue delving deep, savoring every inch of her. He wasn't rushing, wasn't devouring her like a starved man. No, he was taking his time, committing every taste, every texture to memory.

The way she dripped onto his tongue, coating his taste buds with her essence. The little gasps and moans she made, music to his ears. The way her thighs trembled on either side of his head, her body surrendering to his touch.

He was messy, spit dripping down his chin, smearing across his cheeks. But he didn't care. All that mattered was Y/n, her pleasure, her satisfaction.

Carlos kept his mouth firmly planted between Y/n's thighs, his tongue delving deep into her soaked folds. God, she was so wet, her arousal coating his chin and dripping down onto the sheets below.

He moaned against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. His nose bumped against her clit with each thrust of his tongue, the sensitive bundle of nerves throbbing with need.

Y/n's legs slowly wrapped around his head, her heels digging into his back as she pulled him closer. "Fuck, baby," she panted, her fingers tightening in his hair. "Keep going, it feels so good. Like that, just like that."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against Carlos' face as he devoured her. She gasped as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance, circling the sensitive flesh but not quite penetrating.

"I want more, Carlos," she whimpered, her voice high and needy. "I want your fingers inside."

Carlos obliged, slowly pushing one finger into her tight heat. He groaned at the feel of her, hot and wet and perfect around him. He pumped his finger in and out, curling it to hit that special spot inside her.

Y/n keened, her back arching off the bed as he fingered her. "Yes, yes, just like that," she chanted, her walls clenching around his digits. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Carlos thrust his middle finger deep into Y/n's pussy, the longest digit providing the perfect stretch. She moaned loudly, her legs shaking as he pumped in and out, curling his finger to hit her G-spot with each stroke.

Her body seemed to be at war with itself, her legs trembling and threatening to close, but her pussy clenching greedily around his finger, silently begging for more.

Carlos could feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around him, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, adding a second finger and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

"That's it, baby," he growled against her skin. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Y/n's body tensed, her orgasm building slowly but surely. It took a few moments, but when it finally hit, it crashed over her like a pile of falling bricks.

Her back arched off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. It was as if they were in a soundproof room, her moans echoing off the walls, filling the space with the symphony of her ecstasy.

Carlos worked her through it, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on her sensitive flesh. He lapped at her clit, drawing out her climax until she was a writhing, trembling mess beneath him.

Finally, she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Carlos gently withdrew his fingers, pressing a tender kiss to her inner thigh.

Carlos continued his worship of Y/n's body, his lips trailing kisses up and down her trembling thighs. He took his time, savoring the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips.

Then, unable to resist any longer, he dipped his head back between her legs, his tongue delving into her soaked folds once more. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

He ate her out with fervor, his tongue swirling around her clit, dipping into her entrance, lapping up her essence. Y/n shook beneath him, her hands fisting in the sheets as she tried to anchor herself against the onslaught of sensation.

Carlos could feel her getting close again, her walls fluttering around his tongue, her moans growing higher and more desperate. He doubled his efforts, determined to bring her to the edge once more.

Y/n's hands fisted in Carlos' hair, tugging him closer as he devoured her. "Baby, you feel so good," she panted, her hips rocking against his face. "Keep going, don't stop."

Carlos growled in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue delving deep, lapping at her walls, flicking rapidly over her clit.

Y/n's thighs began to tremble, her body tensing as her second orgasm approached. "Carlos, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." she gasped, her words dissolving into a high, keening moan as she came undone.

Carlos worked her through it, his mouth never leaving her pussy, prolonging her pleasure until she was a boneless, satisfied mess beneath him.

Y/n came again and again, her body shaking with the force of her orgasms. Carlos gentled his touch, his tongue lapping softly at her sensitive flesh as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

He pulled back, pressing tender kisses to her trembling thighs. "You're so pretty when you cum," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The way you shake, the sounds you make... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Y/n whimpered, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Carlos' words, combined with the feeling of his lips on her skin, sent a fresh surge of arousal through her.

"More," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need more, Carlos. Please..."

Carlos trailed kisses up Y/n's body, leaving a trail of hickies in his wake. He nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "Can you take more, mi amor?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're already shaking so much..."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling with need. "Yes," she gasped, her nails raking down his back. "I need more, Carlos. Please, I can take it. I want it all."

Carlos grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "As you wish," he purred, his hand sliding down to palm her ass. "But first..."

He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep, claiming her, tasting himself on her lips. Y/n moaned into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his, her body arching into his touch.

Carlos' hand slid from Y/n's ass to her lower back, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on her skin. "The panties would look pretty with that buttplug I got you," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You know, the one with the pink heart gem?"

Y/n nodded, a shiver running through her at the mention of the toy. "I was planning to use it soon," she admitted, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Carlos smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "It's such a shame though," he purred, his fingers dipping lower, teasing the cleft of her ass. "I already ripped the panties."

Y/n gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily at the touch. "Carlos," she whimpered, her voice a mix of need and frustration. "You're such a tease."

"All part of the fun, mi amor," he chuckled, his fingers continuing their maddening dance. "Now, where did I put that thing?"

Y/n pointed to the nightstand beside the bed. "I think it's in there," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Your side."

Carlos released her, rolling over to rummage through the drawer. He pulled out the pink heart-shaped buttplug, holding it up triumphantly. "Found it," he grinned, crawling back over to Y/n.

He ran the smooth metal over her lips, letting her taste the cold surface. "Open up, baby," he instructed, pressing the tip to her mouth. "Get it nice and wet for me."

Y/n parted her lips, taking the buttplug into her mouth. She sucked on it, her tongue swirling around the base, coating it liberally with saliva.

Y/n looked up at Carlos through her lashes, her eyes wide and innocent, the buttplug still nestled between her lips. She sucked on it slowly, sensually, her cheeks hollowing as she applied suction.

"Fuck, you're so cute," Carlos groaned, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight. "Such a good girl, getting your toy all wet for me."

He reached out, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her plump bottom lip. "That's enough, mi amor," he murmured, gently withdrawing the buttplug from her mouth. "Time to put it to better use."

Y/n whimpered softly, her eyes following the movement of the toy as Carlos positioned it at her entrance. He pressed the tip against her, applying gentle pressure, watching her face intently for any sign of discomfort.

Y/n moaned as she felt the cool metal of the buttplug pressing against her sensitive skin. Carlos watched her face intently, gauging her reaction as he slowly pushed the toy inside her.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, his voice low and encouraging. "Just relax and let it in. You're doing so well."

She continued to whimper, her hands fisting in the sheets as the buttplug stretched her, filling her in a way she hadn't experienced before. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one, and as Carlos twisted the base, the pink heart-shaped jewel nestled snugly between her cheeks.

"There," he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Don't you look pretty with your new toy."

Carlos helped Y/n onto her hands and knees, admiring the way her ass jutted out, the buttplug nestled snugly between her cheeks. He ran his hands over her curves, spreading her open, exposing her most intimate parts.

"Can I take a picture, mi amor?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. "I want to remember this moment forever."

Y/n hesitated, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Mhm," she murmured, nodding shyly. "But... but don't show anyone, okay?"

Carlos chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the small of her back. "Of course not, baby," he assured her. "These pictures are for me and me only to enjoy."

He grabbed his phone, snapping a few shots from various angles, capturing Y/n in all her vulnerable, exposed glory. Each click of the shutter sent a thrill through him, the knowledge that he was the only one who would ever see these images, that he had her complete trust.

Carlos groaned, his eyes roaming over Y/n's exposed body. "Fuck, you're so pretty baby," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He quickly shed his shorts and boxers, his hard cock springing free, bobbing between his legs. He moved behind Y/n, gripping her hips, holding her in place as he teased the tip of his cock against her entrance.

He rubbed it back and forth, catching on her clit with each pass, making her gasp and shudder. "Look at you," he purred, his fingers digging into her hips. "So wet and ready for me. I can't wait to be inside you."

Y/n whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Carlos chuckled darkly, continuing his maddening tease, keeping her on edge, making her ache for his touch.

She panted, her hips wiggling back against Carlos. "Carlos, I want more," she pleaded, her voice high and needy.

Carlos smiled, pushing just the tip of his cock inside her. Y/n moaned, her walls fluttering around him, trying to draw him deeper.

"That's it, baby," Carlos purred, reaching around to wiggle the buttplug. Y/n cried out, her body shaking as the toy shifted inside her, sending sparks of pleasure racing up her spine.

Even with just the tip inside her, Y/n was moaning like she was in a porno, her body responding to every touch, every tease. Carlos grinned, loving the effect he had on her, the way he could reduce her to a writhing, desperate mess with just a few well-placed touches.

Carlos grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail. "This pretty mouth of yours needs to shut up this time around, okay?" he growled, his voice low and commanding. "You were so loud earlier, we already had noise complaints last week because of you."

He reached for her ripped panties, balling them up and pressing them into her mouth. Y/n's eyes widened, a muffled whimper escaping her as he tied the fabric around her head, effectively gagging her.

"There," Carlos purred, admiring his handiwork. "Now you can scream all you want, and no one will hear you."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. With one hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, stretching her, filling her completely.

Y/n's muffled moan was music to his ears, her body clenching around him, welcoming him home.

Y/n's back arched as Carlos filled her, her fingers digging into the pillow in front of her. Despite the gag, her moans were still loud, her pleasure evident in the way her body moved, the way she rocked back against him.

"Shh, baby," Carlos chided, his hand coming down on her ass in a gentle spank. "Be quiet now."

He repeated the action, alternating cheeks, the sting of his palm mixing with the pleasure of his cock inside her. Y/n whimpered, her hips jerking with each impact, her moans muffled but no less intense.

Carlos grinned, loving the way she responded to him, the way she surrendered to his touch, his control. He continued his steady rhythm, pounding into her, his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust.

Carlos looked down, groaning at the sight of Y/n's pussy, so wet and stretched around him. "Fuck, you're taking me so well, baby," he grunted, his hips snapping forward, driving into her harder.

His hand found the buttplug, wiggling it, teasing her. He pushed it halfway out, then twisted it, pushing it back in, making Y/n's body jerk and shudder.

"That's it, take it all," he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock, take the plug, let me fill you up."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling, torn between the pleasure and the slight discomfort of being so full. But Carlos didn't let up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, as he chased his own release.

Carlos cooed softly, his voice a stark contrast to the intensity of his thrusts. "So cute, baby," he murmured, reaching around to pinch Y/n's nipples, rolling them between his fingers. "You always look so pretty in pink."

He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, burying himself deep inside her. Y/n's body jerked, a muffled moan escaping her as the buttplug shifted, pressing against her walls.

Carlos grinned, loving the way she looked, the way she felt, the way she responded to him. He could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her.

"Gonna cum," he grunted, his hips slapping against her ass as he chased his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."

Y/n's body was weak, her muscles trembling with the effort of holding herself up, of taking Carlos' relentless thrusts. But fuck, it felt so good, the pleasure consuming her, overwhelming her senses.

She moaned around the panties in her mouth, the sound muffled but no less desperate, no less needy. Her pussy clenched around Carlos' cock, her walls fluttering, trying to draw him deeper, hold him closer.

Carlos could feel her tightening around him, could hear the desperation in her moans. He knew she was close, could feel her body tensing, preparing for release.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his hand snaking around to rub her clit. "Cum for me. Let go, let me feel you."

Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She shook and trembled, her moans rising in pitch, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice.

Carlos groaned, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his cum. "You're taking it so well."

He collapsed over her, his chest pressing against her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. They stayed like that for a moment, both panting, both trying to catch their breath.

Slowly, carefully, Carlos pulled out, watching as his cum dripped from Y/n's pussy. He reached for the buttplug, gently removing it, tossing it aside.

"You did so good, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n turned in Carlos' arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I want more," she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.

Carlos grinned, his hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Anal?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Y/n bit her lip, nodding shyly. "Yes," she breathed, her body already trembling with anticipation. "I want to try it, with you."

Carlos' grin widened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Are you sure, baby?" he asked, his tone gentle despite his eagerness. "We can take it slow, go at your pace."

Y/n nodded, her resolve strengthening. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady. "I trust you, Carlos. I know you'll take care of me."

Carlos guided Y/n to sit on his lap, her back pressed against his chest, her legs spread wide. "I'll take the plug out," he murmured, his fingers trailing over her skin. "And I'll help you, every step of the way."

Y/n nodded, leaning back into him, trusting him completely. Carlos reached between her legs, his fingers finding the base of the buttplug. Slowly, gently, he pulled it out, the metal sliding free with a soft pop.

She moaned, her body clenching at the sudden emptiness. Carlos soothed her with soft kisses to her neck, his hands rubbing her thighs. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. "We'll go slow, just relax."

He reached for the lube, slicking his fingers generously. "Tell me if anything hurts, okay?" he said, his tone serious. "Your comfort is the most important thing."

Carlos circled Y/n's entrance with a slick finger, gently pressing in, breaching her slowly. Y/n whimpered, her body tensing at the unfamiliar intrusion.

"Breathe, baby," Carlos coached, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her stomach. "Relax for me."

He worked his finger deeper, curling it slightly, searching for that special spot. When he found it, Y/n cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"There," Carlos purred, rubbing the spot firmly. "Does that feel good?"

Y/n nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Yes," she gasped, her voice strained. "It's so intense, but so good- Fuck..."

Carlos added a second finger, stretching her slowly, preparing her for his cock. He scissored them, gently, carefully, watching her face for any signs of pain or discomfort.

Carlos continued his gentle ministrations, his fingers moving in and out of Y/n's tight heat, curling and stroking, finding all the sensitive spots that made her gasp and moan. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her lips, murmuring words of praise and encouragement.

"You're doing so well, baby," he whispered, his thumb brushing over her clit. "Taking me so perfectly. I'm so proud of you."

Y/n whimpered, her body trembling under his touch, under his words. She felt so full, so stretched, but it was a good ache, a pleasure she'd never known before.

Carlos could tell she was getting close, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster, harder, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her clit.

"Cum for me, mi amor," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire. "Let go, let me see you cum"

Y/n's body seized, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She whimpered and moaned, her hips bucking wildly, her inner walls clamping down on Carlos' fingers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice high and breathy. "Oh god, Carlos, it's so much, it's too much-"

Her words dissolved into incoherent babble as the pleasure consumed her, her body shaking and trembling in Carlos' arms. He held her tight, his fingers still moving inside her, drawing out her climax, making it last as long as possible.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, his lips brushing her ear. "Ride it out, let it take you. You're doing so fucking well."

Carlos gently turned Y/n's face towards him, his eyes locked on hers. "Look down, baby," he instructed softly. "See? It's all the way in."

Y/n's gaze followed his, her eyes widening as she saw the slight bulge of Carlos' cock inside her, stretching her, filling her completely. "I feel so full," she whispered, her voice awestruck. "I can feel you everywhere."

Carlos grinned, his hands sliding up her sides, cupping her breasts. "That's because you're taking me so perfectly," he praised, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. "Every inch of you is wrapped around me, squeezing me, hugging me tight."

Y/n moaned, her hips shifting slightly, the movement sending sparks of pleasure racing through her. "It's so big," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. "But it feels so good, Carlos. So right."

Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Y/n riding him, her body moving with a wild abandon, her eyes filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. Her hair was a mess, falling gracefully over one shoulder, her tits bouncing with each thrust, her mouth open, drool leaking from the corner.

She was a vision, a goddess, and she was all his.

Carlos gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements, helping her chase her pleasure. He watched as her body tensed, her walls clamping down around him, her moans rising in pitch.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Ride me, take what you need. Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, so perfect, so mine."

Y/n's body shook, her movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. She was close, so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Her body tensed, her movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," she gasped, her voice strained, her eyes wild with pleasure.

Carlos could feel her tightening around him, her walls fluttering, clenching, trying to draw him deeper. "Keep going, baby," he urged, his hips snapping up to meet her downward thrusts. "Let go, cum for me. I've got you, I'm right here."

Y/n threw her head back, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashed over her. Her body shook, her pussy clamping down on Carlos' cock like a vice, milking him, trying to pull him over the edge with her.

Carlos groaned, his own release building, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing inside her. "Fuck, baby," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up, fuck-"

As their orgasms crashed over them, Y/n's body spasmed, her movements becoming jerky, uncoordinated. She fell forward, her chest pressing against Carlos', her face nestling into the crook of his neck.

Carlos' arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his cock still buried deep inside her, throbbing with the aftershocks of his release. "I've got you, baby," he murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. "I'm here, I'm right here."

They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies joined, their hearts beating in sync. Carlos pressed soft kisses to Y/n's hair, her forehead, her cheek, murmuring words of love and praise.

"You did so well, mi amor," he whispered, his voice low and tender. "You took me so perfectly, gave me everything. I love you so much, Y/n. So fucking much."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii @livsturnioloo

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf @lilorose25 @zestytimbit

[withahappyrefrain]

could i request jake and meet cute 30 or 38?

I went with 30! Thank you!

"You need to get laid.”

Jessica’s words almost made you choke on your drink. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering how much she and the rest of the group talked about tonight being the night to find a hot guy to take home.

“I hope they play Hot to Go,” you stated, ignoring her statement.

She playful shook your shoulder, “C’mon! We all agree it’s time you get back out there! And what better place to do so than here?”

Jessica motioned to the rest of the bar, which was currently full of men and women in uniforms.

“Just because y’all have a uniform kink, doesn’t mean I do too,” you retorted, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

“Hey, the uniform shows they can make a commitment and they have a steady job. That’s a rarity in itself,” Leah remarked, “Plus, Jess is right. What was the last time you tried speaking to someone?”

You didn’t respond, due to the answer being embarrassing. It had been close to a year since your last break up. Every time the prospect of dating was brought up, you were able to counter it with an excuse. Work is too busy. I have a lot going on. I need time for myself. I want to focus on myself.

“Even if you get their number, you don’t have to text them,” Rosa jumped in, sensing your uneasiness, “It’s more so about putting yourself out there, getting back into the swing of things.”

“Besides, there are so many!” Jess exclaimed, “Like look at….oh wait, nevermind. Guy in glasses is totally Leah’s type. Well then there’s……oh he’s cute too. That one is mine, okay?”

Leah elbowed Jess, bringing her back down to Earth, “We can even help you! If you want,” your more sensible friend offered.

“Yes! We’d love to help you!” Jess grabbed your hand, squeezing it as if to contain her excitement.

“If you want,” Rosa added.

“That’s very nice of y’all. But not tonight, okay?” You hoped your firm statement would deter them from any shenanigans.

It did not.

Jessica was literally dragging guys over to the table to talk to you. Rosa was pulling the “haaaave ya met my friend?” card. The only person who seemed to be having a good time was Leah, who was currently sharing a cup of peanuts with the birth control goggles wearing aviator.

Y’all were going to get kicked out of this bar.

Just one number!

Their words rang in your ears. After Jessica brought over what had to be the sixth pilot, you knew you couldn’t take much more. So without warning, you stood up and darted to the bar, leaving Jessica and whatever his name was.

Just one number. You didn’t even have to flirt, you could explain the situation and get a fake number. That would shut your friends up and you wouldn’t have to text the guy back. A win-win situation for all.

There was a wait at the bar, which gave you the perfect amount of time to scope out someone who would take pity on you.

Then you heard Jessica call your name from across the bar. You had to get this over with quickly.

Tapping on the shoulder of the nearest man, you prayed for sweet relief.

Aw fuck, he was hot.

Of course you picked the reincarnation of Adonis, with his chiseled face and broad chest. The short sleeves of his uniform showed off his strong arms, tying in perfectly with his coiffed blonde hair and stunning green eyes. When he cleared his throat, you were reminded that you had tapped him on the shoulder and this beautiful man was expecting you to speak.

“I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans,” you confessed, motioning towards your group of friends who were now watching you from their table.

“Again, it doesn’t have to be your actual number, I just need-”

“Shouldn’t we make it believable?” There was a twang with his words, revealing a Southern upbringing.

Of course he had a cute accent too. The universe really wanted you to suffer tonight. And of course, all you could do was let out a squeak of confusion.

“So your friends believe it?” He explained, his lips forming into a dangerously charming smirk, “Also, I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to ya ever since you walked through the door."

“I….I don’t know your name,” was the only thing you could get out. Christ, you were stupid.

He chuckled, though it wasn't malicious, “I'm Jake. Can I buy you a drink before giving you my number?”

"You....actually want my number?" You were in disbelief. There was no fucking way. The universe must be playing a trick on you.

Jake nodded, the smile remaining on his face, "Have wanted it since I heard ya laugh."

Maybe tonight would turn out perfectly fine after all.

[uniquexusposts]

This is embarrassing - M. Verstappen (2)

Summary: Y/n and Max meet again at the slopes. Part one Part three

And the next day was even busier on the slopes. The last time it was so extremely crowded at the ski lift... Three years ago. It almost looked like people were waiting for a Harry Styles concert. It was a beautiful day, but not a special day. Well, it was Christmas Day, but usually, it would be quiet on the slopes.

Y/n was watching the chaos from a distance. Her plan was to ski for an hour, but suddenly, she didn't look forward to it anymore. She removed her helm from her head and grabbed the skies from the ground. Time to go home. An annoyed feeling flowed through her veins. She hoped that she could some time on the slopes, just to relax - well, to empty her mind - and then to get ready for the evening. For a moment, she longed for a lockdown again; no people, no queues, not having to share the slopes with anyone. Y/n turned around and made her way to the exit, passing everyone complaining about the busyness.

Her eyes fell on someone who was struggling to remove his skies from his boots. Y/n walked towards them. "Do you need some help?"

"Oh, yes, please. I can't get those off."

Y/n explained to the person how to do it.

"I always feel so stupid when it doesn't work." The person put off the goggles and removed the helmet. A smile came on his face. "Hey, you, again."

A smile grew on her face. "We keep bumping into each other," she smirked.

Max noticed that the young woman was an easy talker and joked around. "It's almost getting too notable." He took a deep breath. "Thanks, for this. But, err, I really need to go to the restroom, so I'm gonna go."

"Yes, sure. I wont hold you up any longer." She grabbed her gear from the ground again and saw how Max walked in the opposite direction from the restrooms. "Hey!" Y/n stepped towards him. "It's the other direction," she said, pointing behind her.

"Yes, I know. But the queue is long. And I can hold it up for a bit longer."

"Oh, okay," she nodded.

Max walked away again. It was a good day to go out, and he wasn't the only one who thought about it like that. The entire village thought like that. Today was more about waiting than skiing. Max looked next to him, and the young woman was walking behind him. They made eye contact, and she shared an awkward smile. "It's busy out there," he said to her.

She nodded. "Unfortunately," she mentioned. "How many times did you manage to get up there?"

"Four times now, since this morning. You?"

"Zero." She sighed. "I was about to hit the slopes, but then I saw the queue and turned around."

"You're late."

"Yeah, I hoped that everyone would be too drunk because of the Après-ski and would get ready for their Christmas dinner," she honestly shared.

Max couldn't help it, but he laughed. "That's quite the strategy." He looked in front of them. "I feel like it's much busier than before."

"It's the same as before Covid, actually. But it looks busier."

"Ah, makes sense."

"And during Covid, when we were open, only the guests from the resort had access. And now everyone has access again."

He nodded. "Fully back to normal."

"Yep." Y/n struggled to carry her skies, which annoyed her more. "Where do you stay?"

"Other side of the village," he replied. "We're renting a house. It's called Maison de Neige."

"Ah, that's a lovely house. Far away, though."

He looked at her and noticed the somewhat judgy look. He knew it sounded stupid. Why go to your accommodation to go to the bathroom on the other side of the village when there's a restroom nearby? "I know, I know. But it was so busy."

"Yeah, I mean, I would do the same," she agreed. "You know what? I live there," she pointed at a house across the street. "If you want to, you can use the toilet. Saves you some time."

Max raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?" He scanned the houses in the street. He thought those were holiday accommodations since all of them looked huge.

Y/n nodded. "Yes. It's no problem."

For a moment, Max hesitated. Could he trust her? But on the other hand, she didn't look like a person who would take advantage of him. "What is your name, actually?"

"Oh, yes, right. My name is Y/n," she introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm Max."

"I know," she whispered. "Nice to meet you, too." Y/n zipped her coat open and grabbed her keys. She opened the door that led to the garage.

Max followed her inside. He closed the door behind him and looked around. On the left side, one car was parked. On the other side, he saw a lot of ski gear. In the middle of the garage was a wooden bench to undress from the thick layers of ski gear. And that was what Y/n did. He followed her attitude.

"The relief when taking those boots off..." She got up and waited for him.

He put his helmet on the bench next to him and got up as well. "...heavenly," he dreamingly said and followed her upstairs. His eyes fell on the photos on the wall of the hall; a lot of family photos.

"Eh, here is the toilet," Y/n said and opened a door in the hall.

She left Max by going to the kitchen. Now she wasn't going to the slopes anymore, she wanted to treat herself to a glass of hot chocolate for the disappointment. Treat yourself. But now, did she need to ask Max if he also wanted a glass? She invited him over, but just for the use of the toilet. What if he thought this was weird? Y/n grabbed her hoodie that was hanging over the bar stool in the kitchen, put it on and stepped into her slippers. She leaned against the kitchen counter, debating her decision. If he says yes, give him hot chocolate. If he says no, nothing else will happen. It's not the end of the world.

"Thank you."

Y/n looked up and saw Max standing in the hall. She friendly smiled. "No problem," she said. "And, eh... This may sound weird, but I'm gonna make some hot chocolate. Do you want a glass too?" She was waiting for his reaction. "It's okay if you want to go back..." she quietly added.

"Can't say no to hot chocolate," he responded with a smile and entered the kitchen. "And it's not like it will be less busy now, on the slopes."

"Fair." Y/n heated some chocolate milk.

"No offence," Max broke the silence. He only had seen the kitchen, but the kitchen looked new and modern. And the size of the house was big; he assumed the entire property was one home. And the car in the garage was the new Volvo. "But what do you do for a living to live in a house like this?"

She looked at him and smirked. "It's my parents' house."

"Yeah, okay, I already thought so," he made the assumption. "But even then. They say it's expensive to live in this area."

"It is," she confirmed, pouring the hot chocolate into two cups. "Whipped cream?"

"Yes, please."

Y/n grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge and put it on the hot chocolate. "So, yeah. It's not like my dad is the mayor of the village, but he is in charge of the slopes; the maintenance, staff, etcetera. And my mum is the general manager of Blue."

"Blue?"

"The resort." She handed over the hot chocolate and sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"Thanks." He sat down next to her.

Whenever Y/n would say that her parents were a big name in the village, she was scared that people would think that she would use that position for herself. She was proud of her parents, but... "So yeah, the daughter of."

"How is that like?" Max could perhaps fill in the answer, but he wanted to keep the conversation going. He ate some of the whipped cream.

"I would say lonely; they are barely home. We always have to postpone the holidays to moments when it's not busy. But on the other hand, my brother and I help them, so we always have something to do around here. And I really can't complain about where I live."

He nodded. "Yeah, I can imagine... It has its pros and cons?"

She nodded as well and carefully took a sip from her drink.

"I'm barely home as well."

"You know how it feels from the other side," she quietly mentioned and smirked to keep the conversation light. "But," Y/n started and smiled, "what will you be doing tonight?"

Today was Christmas. "We're staying at the Maison and making dinner on our own. We spend the evening at the restaurant yesterday. Yesterday we dressed up; today, we wear the ugliest Christmas jumper."

A smile grew on Y/n's face. "Sounds good."

"And you?"

"My parents said that they might be off for the evening. And if that isn't the case, my brother and I will relax, have a Christmas film marathon and eat too much food." Y/n stroked a piece of hair behind her ear. "It sounds like we don't have friends or other family, but they already have plans."

"I'm not judging you. Who am I to judge?"

You are Max Verstappen.

"Besides, I prefer lazy Christmas evenings over busy, formal, perfect-not-so-perfect Christmas diners where you can't be yourself," he added.

She pushed the corners of her mouth down and looked impressed. "You have a point there."

"See."

"I don't know, it sounds so pathetic. A 24-year-old celebrating Christmas on the couch."

"I think a lot of 24-year-olds are jealous of you. Secretly," Max comforted her and lightly shrugged. "But, now I am here with a knower of the slopes. When is it quiet on the slopes?"

Y/n took a sip of the hot chocolate and licked her lips when she could feel the whipped cream on them. "Tomorrow morning," she replied. "And the morning after New Year. When the slopes open at 8 o'clock, to 9 o'clock-ish. No one wants to be there in the morning after a holiday with a hangover or a lack of sleep," she chuckled.

"Will you be there?"

"Oh, absolutely," she replied without hesitation. "I can't say no to an almost empty slope during the peak days."

A laugh rolled over his lips. "I like how dedicated you are."

Y/n held up her shoulders and looked proud of her knowledge. "Quality over quantity," she playfully said.

"As you should."

"You can join me, if you want. We're going with the family."

He squinted and thought about it. An empty slope? Fantastic. But with a hangover or only a few hours of sleep? Meh. "Let me think about that."

"Of course, no stress. We're leaving at half past seven. I will see if you will be downstairs tomorrow." She took the last sip of the hot chocolate.

Max nodded, emptying his cup as well. "Thank you for the hot chocolate, it was good," he smiled. "I'm going back to the Maison, calling it a day."

"I'm glad it was."

They made their way to the garage below the house, and Max put on his gear again, ready to enter the cold again. Well, it wasn't that cold, but it also wasn't warm. A decent temperature, but on the colder side to ski.

"Thanks again," Max smiled and opened the backdoor that led to the street. He was holding his skies and helmet in his hands, really showing he would go to his own place.

Y/n crossed her arms in front of her chest when the cold circled around her body. She smiled. "No need to thank me. Merry Christmas, Max."

"Merry Christmas," he smiled. "And maybe I will see you tomorrow morning. Half past seven, right?"

She nodded. "On the dot," she playfully said.

A chuckle escaped his mouth, and he stepped away, turning his back to her. "We will see," he mentioned and threw his hand with helmet in the air.

The smile on Y/n's mouth became wider, and she shook her head. Meeting him was the last thing that she expected, let alone drinking hot chocolate with him. She closed the door and locked it again. Her eyes fell on her ski gear, she didn't tidy it up. A sigh left her mouth, and she picked up her skies, placing them in their holder on the wall. She grabbed her boots and put them on the side. When she grabbed her helmet from the bench, the backdoor opened.

"Hey, Y/n/n,” her brother's voice filled the garage. Theodore grinned when he looked at his sister. He was wearing his teacher's ski outfit, meaning he got back straight from the slopes.

Y/n raised her eyebrows, and an annoying look came on her face. She hated that nickname, and he knew that. "Piss off," she mumbled. "Close the door for the cold."

"Good..." The deep voice of her dad said. When he stepped in, he was looking at his watch. "...afternoon," he finished when he saw it was a few minutes before six o'clock. Her dad was dressed normally; trousers, leather boots, a trendy coat.

"Ah, how cosy," a female voice then filled the air. A woman entered the garage, wearing her work clothes, and closed the door, locking it. "When was the last time we all stood in the garage at the same time?" The mother was widely smiling.

A soft smile grew on Y/n's face. "Are we all home tonight?"

"Yes."

"Yup."

"Absolutely."

Something she never thought would happen. She hoped for it, knew it was unrealistic, but this... A Christmas present to the family. "Love it," Y/n smiled and grabbed her coat. She brought her helmet and coat upstairs and stored them in the closet. She got to the kitchen and put the two used cups in the dishwasher.

“Y/n/n,” mum said when entering the kitchen. "Shall we make dinner in an hour?"

"Yes, sure."

"Do I need to help with anything?" Dad put on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter while crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Mum took a deep breath. "Uh..." She looked around the kitchen. "Let's just relax for a bit. My brain is a sponge." She left the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand and a yawn that escaped her lips.

"What's on the menu?" Dad asked his daughter. "And do you want a cup of coffee?"

"A cappuccino, please," Y/n replied. "And we have carpaccio, salmon with veggies and tiramisu," she mentioned and opened the fridge. "But we have to make the tiramisu since it was sold out."

"Let's make the tiramisu, then we will set the table and do the rest," he replied. "Mum has an extremely busy time; let's give her some rest. I think we need tonight simple anyway. Dinner and then watch a movie. I'm exhausted, everyone is exhausted."

Theodore entered the kitchen. "Sounds like a plan. Honestly, I'm not even dressing up. I'm gonna shower and put on a Christmas jumper, and that is all I will give you tonight." He yawned. "I've seen so many people today, I am overcooked."

"Was your class fun?" Dad asked his son and made a coffee for Y/n. "Coffee?"

Theodore nodded at his last question. "Yes, please. And the class... I have this annoying child I have to deal with, but overall, it's fine. Glad we have nothing tomorrow."

"Are we still doing the ski trip at eight tomorrow?" Y/n then asked.

"I say yes, but only if I have the energy for it," Theodore breathed.

"I will go, it's the only time I can go," dad breathed.

Part three

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees

[multicohn]

summary: while waiting for the outcome of qualifying, the cameras capture a precious moment between yuki and his girlfriend

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: drabble, fluff, short smau at the end

author note: i swear i have other drivers in my drafts but i just love yuki 😭😭

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n didn’t attend many of yuki’s races because of her studies. he didn’t mind, but would get rather giddy upon having her with him. people suspected that yuki is in a relationship, but they lack proper proof. y/n didn’t really care if they went public, yuki would most likely go all keyboard warrior if someone disrespected her or their relationship — she feels bad for his manager who will have to face the consequences of yuki’s future actions.

“hey” yuki pressed a kiss to her cheeks as y/n typed away on her laptop

she had decided on staying in hospitality while yuki raced for three reasons: not to distract him, to do her course work, and worry in peace.

“you almost done?” qualifying has been delayed due to the rain, which frustrated y/n as the internet was absolutely trash

“just gotta some stuff, why?”

“wanna come down to the garage? i’m bored and the rain doesn’t look like it’ll clear up soon” y/n shrugged, she didn’t have any reason to deny his request

yuki smiled brightly and went to grab his jacket while y/n packed up. she softly laced her fingers with his together before they made their way back to the garage.

the vcarb crew members knew that y/n is someone important to their driver, but seeing them holding hands made everyone in his garage do a double take.

“where do you want to sit?” y/n looked around silently before plopping down onto the ground

“it’s cold!” she exclaimed immediately making yuki laugh

“of course it’s going to be cold” he playfully rolled his eyes before sitting down

y/n opened her laptop and started where she left off while yuki busied himself by talking with his race engineer.

“i’ll leave you two alone for a bit” yuki glanced over at his girlfriend who was laser-focused on her work

he let out a small hum before leaning onto her shoulder, y/n instantly rested her own on top of his without taking her eyes off the screen.

“hey, that reminds me of a song” he pointed to the strange word in her document

“what’s it called?”

“i’ll sing it to you” he lifted his shoulder off her head and y/n momentarily took her eyes off the screen

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[amirasainz]

Write something about Max and Kelly corrupting innocent younger reader. They treat her like a porcelain doll and make sure she is always in their sight. They are very possessive and obsessed

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

No Part 2!

Keeping her away

"Where are you going, YN?" Max’s voice was smooth yet carried a dark edge that made YN pause, one hand still on the door.

She looked over her shoulder, offering a soft smile. "Oh, I was just going to meet Jess for coffee. I thought I mentioned it."

Kelly appeared from the other side of the room, her gaze warm but intent and possessive. "Did you check in with us first? You know we just like to know where you are, sweetheart." She reached out, tucking a stray strand of YN's hair behind her ear. Kelly had the habit of always touching the younger girl. It was her way of making sure YN was safe. "You know it’s not safe out there. Besides… we kind of like having you around."

YN’s cheeks flushed at the attention, feeling a bit like a child being fussed over by parents—though Max and Kelly were only a few years older than her. Still, they always treated her with such adoration, like she was someone who needed looking after. Like she couldn't exist without the other two.

"It’s just coffee," she replied, laughing softly, "I’ll be back in an hour or two."

Max exchanged a long look with Kelly. "Come on, YN, it’s not that we don’t trust you," he said, stepping closer, his gaze softening, but carrying a possesive sparkle in them. "We just worry, you know? We don’t want you getting hurt."

"How about this?" Kelly chimed in, wrapping a strong arm around YN’s waist. "Let us come with you. We can sit nearby, give you space, but if you need anything, we’ll be right there."

YN’s expression wavered. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. They did so much for her, always checking in, always knowing exactly what she needed before she even had to ask.

"Alright," she agreed, smiling. "You two can come, but only if you promise not to embarrass me!"

Max chuckled, guiding her toward the door with a firm hand on her lower back, nearly touching her ass. "Promise. We’ll just be… there in case you need us."

The three of them arrived at the café, with Jess already waiting. When she saw Max and Kelly trailing YN, her eyebrows raised. "Hey, YN," Jess said, giving her a questioning look. "I didn’t know we’d have company."

YN shrugged, taking a seat. "They just wanted to make sure I was safe." She grinned, not noticing how Jess’s face flickered with confusion.

While Jess and YN caught up, Max and Kelly sat at a nearby table, never taking their eyes off their girl. At one point, Max leaned toward Kelly, murmuring softly, "See how happy she looks with us here. We’re doing the right thing, keeping an eye on her."

Kelly nodded, eyes bright with a crazy twinkle as she watched YN laugh. "She needs us, Max. We’re the only ones who really understand her. Nobody else could love her the way we do. Nobody could ever protect her the way we can. We are the only ones she can love, forever."

They lingered at the café, Max occasionally glancing at Jess whenever she made YN laugh too hard, his jaw tightening just a little too hard for it to be causal. Kelly, sensing his mood, placed a calming hand on his arm, trying to keep her anger at bay when she looked at her precious love and the person she called a "friend".

"Remember," she whispered, "YN will come back with us. She always does."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Later that evening, back at Max and Kelly’s home, YN spotted a new photo on the wall—one of her from the café, laughing at something Jess had said.

"Another one?" she laughed, turning to them. "You two are so obsessed with pictures."

Max smiled warmly, stepping closer to her. "You’re just so beautiful, YN. We love being able to see you around us, even when you’re not there."

Kelly leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching YN with a fond gaze. "Do you like it? We took it because it just… captured you perfectly. Don’t you think?"

YN’s cheeks heated. She felt flattered, even a bit shy. "I guess it’s… kind of sweet. I’m lucky to have you two."

"No, YN," Kelly said, stepping forward and taking her hand, kissing her cheek softly, before whisperingin her ear. "We’re the lucky ones. You’re like our little angel. You let us take care of you, and that means everything to us." Kelly's declaration of love made her shiver.

YN felt her heart skip. She’d never had anyone look out for her so closely. Sometimes her friends hinted it was… maybe a bit much, but what did they know? Max and Kelly loved her, cared for her in ways she couldn’t imagine anyone else doing. And they wanted her safe.

"So… you don’t mind?" she asked, looking up at Max. "That I need you both so much?"

Max’s gaze softened. "YN, we wouldn’t have it any other way." He put a gentle hand on her cheek. "You’re exactly where you’re meant to be."

Kelly nodded, brushing a thumb over YN’s knuckles. "Exactly. With us."

■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■□■■

Days passed, and each time YN tried to spend time on her own or with friends, Max and Kelly always found a reason to join or have her stay with them instead. They’d perfected the art of reassuring her with gentle smiles and soft words, constantly reminding her of how precious she was to them and how they didn't want anything happening to her.

One evening, YN noticed Max quietly watching her from the doorway as she arranged flowers on the kitchen table. "Something on your mind?" she asked with a teasing grin.

He tilted his head, smiling. "Nothing in particular. Just… happy."

Kelly appeared by his side, nodding as she took YN’s hand, guiding her to sit between them on the couch. "We love having you here, YN. You feel that too, don’t you?"

"Of course," YN replied, her heart warming. "I mean… I don’t know what I’d do without you two."

"And you won’t ever have to," Kelly murmured softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before bringing her in a hug. Over YN's shoulder, Kelly shared a dark look with Max, tightening her hold on YN. A silent form of communication between them. Nothing would ever touch their YN. Ever.

[twitchmattentusiast]

do you think matt’s a boy or girl dad

hear me out. he’s both.

when you guys were a year into the relationship, matt realised you hadn’t spoken about kids, and well, considering he really wanted them in the future, he brought it up one night. 

you were cuddled to his side, half asleep but refusing to give into the sleep because you were debriefing how your date went with your hometown best friends.

matt watched you nervously. he had been quiet all day. well, quieter than usual, that is. you had asked him all day what was wrong, but he brushed it off, saying it was nothing; he was just tired, but it wasn’t nothing. the question had been playing on his mind all day and it mattered to him, and that? that scared him.

he had been practicing how he was going to ask you all day. had it all planned out, but since it was 3 in the morning and he was fighting back sleep, it kind of just slipped from his mouth. 

“d’ you want kids?”

you froze, and matt's eyes widened, realising he let it slip. he was not supposed to ask like that. “sorry i-“

his heart dropped as you moved off his chest. you were looking straight in his eyes, and he was so sure that in that moment you’d laugh at him. tell him you didn’t even love him and break up with him.

hey, matt had always been an overthinker.

but instead you leaned forward and pressed your hands to his cheeks, cupping his face with the biggest grin he’d ever seen on your face. ���are you freaking crazy? obviously, i want kids.”

he let out a sigh of relief, and you guys ended up having sex. what? the topic of kids made you both horny. 

after what might have been three rounds of the hottest sex you two had ever had. you laid back on his chest, and his hands brushed your hair softly.

“i think i want three.” you said, “no four! wait-“

matt chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your hair. "think i want three too.” matt smiled. “want some boys and girls, you know a little mixture?”

you nodded your head in agreement. you came from a family of all girls, so you knew how difficult it was to deal with females, but you desperately wanted a daughter. at least one. a little girl you could go on nail trips to the salon with. stay up late at night gossiping, doing her hair. helping her with all of her firsts, she would be too embarrassed to go to her dad, for although matt would try his hardest to help even if his browser history looked a little silly and he wandered through the cosmetics section looking completely lost as he stared at all the pads and tampons trying to find the right ones you had sent him a picture of.

some teenager would probably see him looking all lost and would help him, and he'd thank her endlessly, ranting about how he has no clue what he's doing and he's sure his daughter might be dying. when he comes back home and tells you. you and your daughter make fun of him, though your daughter gives him a hug for being the best dad ever, which he is.

he’d playfully roll his eyes and call her corny, though he's fighting back the biggest smile.

you could picture matt doing all of that. he was so soft, so full of love, he was born to be a girl dad.

but matt came from a family full of boys. With three brothers, males was kind of all he knew. you knew he’d be over the moon having a daughter, but you could also picture him with some sons. probably two, maybe three. enough that matt could pretend to be the goalie while they played football, basketball, or some kind of sport.

when they got older, he’d tell them the only reason he wanted sons in the first place was so he had someone to play video games with, and his sons would get offended, but you’d laugh knowing that was half the truth.

matt would help them with all their firsts because although your sons are major mommy’s boys, he gets so offended at the idea that they’ll come to you for male-related things, so he’ll literally shuffle you out of the room because he can handle it himself. you roll your eyes and tell your sons to just go with it because it means a lot to matt. 

"I want a mix too,” you say, fighting back a smile because you can picture it. matt being the best dad ever to however many sons or daughters you guys have.

matt chuckles and pulls you in for a soft kiss you guys not sleeping because your on such a high talking about it you giggle about what your kids will be like.

two years later, after a year of deciding to wait and then a year of major trial and error. your pregnant with twins. 

you're lying on the bed, matt's hand tightly in yours as you stare at the nurse. excitement in both of your eyes.

“It’s a boy and a girl.” she tells you, and you and your boyfriend turn to look at each other with major excitement.

your not surprised when matt pulls his phone out to call his brothers a second later. “it’s a boy and a fucking girl, guys!” his brows furrowed. “justin, i already told you it was twins. keep up, man, what the fuck?”

he moves his phone away from his ear. rolling his eyes as he tells you. "kid doesn't even remember i told him we're having twins. fake as fuck uncle."

you just laugh, and chris, nick, and justin’s faces light up. "is that y/n?" snd before you know it, the five of you are talking about the fact that there's going to be a mini y/n and matt running around.

[hkthatgffan]

Kiki-Kit Situation Update

Bit of an update to this post from the other week.

Details are all in that post but as a refresher, Kiki-Kit, one of the Gravity Falls fandom's better known/longtime artists, had been taking commissions from multiple people and despite everyone paying her in full, she had yet to fulfill their comms with some waiting up to 5 years with no update. And what made it especially troubling was that she had not communicated with anyone and even blocked one person who had tried to talk about it.

I also had gotten a commission from her in February and have been waiting on it since without her responding at all to me after saying my payment went through. Well, since then we have at least one little update about this...

@foxieskullz tweeted that she has since gotten a refund from Kiki-Kit. She also sent me proof of the refund and Kiki saying she'd pay her back.

This is of course great as Foxie had been of course, waiting since 2019 for her comm that Kiki had practically ghosted her over. It is like she said, disappointing it had to end up happening this way but at least now she has gotten her money back and hopefully in some way, through word finally spreading about all this, able to put it behind and move on from this mess, albeit with perceptions of Kiki greatly changed for the worse.

Of course, this does not mean everything is all good. Kiki has not yet gotten back to me or anyone else about our commissions. I've not heard a single thing publicly or privately from Kiki about this. Neither has anyone else I mentioned in the original post and of course, people like Jolliejackdaw, who Kiki blocked, are still waiting for a response...

Not only that, but the original post I made also has led to more people coming out and mentioning their own situations with Kiki and her not fulfilling their commissions.

So, while it is good to see Kiki-Kit actually working to respond to and refund someone, it's still just the tip of the iceberg. There are many, MANY more people who are waiting for an update.

And like I said in the original post, this isn't a hit job on an artist because she's not finished a commission. This is about lack of communication or transparency from her about why she has not responded to our messages and won't listen when we've had enough and just want a refund. Kiki-Kit could have easily handled this all privately by just being better at communicating with her clients. We're all understanding and patient and would more than have been okay with waiting however long for our comms if she had let us know that properly beforehand (and yes, she did that in June but also said she'd have comms finished soon and didn't deliver then either and also never followed up with an update or even responded to anyone who DM'd her including me). Even a simple, hello would have been okay instead of all this ghosting.

I do hope she does right these wrongs. I honestly do not believe Kiki is a bad person or trying to scam people. It would be truly vile and heartbreaking if that really was the case. But you can't say she hasn't left that perception of herself on so many of us, myself included. I do believe she can still resolve all of this if she just communicates better. Make a post saying you're gonna give people who commissioned you a chance to message you (and you actually responding to them this time) and let you know if they wanna continue with it or get a refund and then commit to either giving those people a refund or fulfilling what you were paid for!

I wanna thank also everyone who shared and spread the word on the original post. Even on my end, making a post like that was difficult to do to say the least. Calling out people, especially someone as major and long time in the fandom who I respected like Kiki is not something I wanna do, ever wanted to or thought I would do. But hearing all the stories from so many people who like me, have been waiting for an update from her and haven't gotten any, really made me realize enough was enough and someone had to make this issue known to a greater set of eyes. I don't like using my platform for stuff like this but this was something that had reached a point where it was no longer showing results through the proper channels of communication Kiki had set up. If you're not gonna respond to DM's, emails and tweets from people who have paid you and you have yet to fulfill their work or even give them an update when they want you to and given you ample time to do so, then you leave us with no choice other than to go this way.

I hope you do see this, @kiki-kit. Please get in touch with us who you have taken on a commission from and please just talk to us. Please give us a chance to either get a refund or give us a solid timeline on when our commissions will be done. No one will hate you if you need to take time to finish it. But just please, stop ghosting us and actually reply to your customers when they email or DM you for an update or at most, give a reason why it may take longer. That's all.

Sincerely again,

Every person who has paid you for a commission and still has yet to hear back from you and every Gravity Falls fan who your work inspired and hopes that you make things right

[sufferu]

Okay, so. This is actually a rather big spoiler for No Refunds, so imma need all of you to hush up about this one when it comes to the current main fic ;)

Anyway — here’s the first draft of a very essential upcoming scene, for all those who wish to see it.

No Refunds Ficlet: March Away From Omelas

____

The five Royal Selection Camps met inside City Hall. Crusch Karsten, flanked by Ferris Argyle and Wilhelm van Astrea. Felt, attended by Rachins, Gaston, Camberley, and the Sword Saint himself. Anastasia Hoshin, with her personal knight and the Captain and Vice Captains of the Iron Fang. Priscilla Barielle, who had elected to witness the ensuing spectacle alone. And of course — Lady Emilia herself, with Beatrice, Otto, Garfiel, and the Oni twins all standing by her side. With a singular exception, nobody else was allowed within the building: they were alone.

That singular exception stood in the middle of the room, of whom a decision now had to be made.

“…I didn’t do anything wrong,” Natsuki Subaru said uncertainly. Why were they all looking at him like that? He wanted to take a step back, but managed to resist the urge just barely. “Priestella is saved now, isn’t it? And— we’ve taken care of five Archbishops of Sin.”

He was objectively correct, about both of those things. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the Battle of Priestella had ended with zero casualties thanks to his contributions. There had been structural damage to the buildings of the city, sure, and there had been injuries here and there — bruises, gashes, broken bones — but nothing that had been lethal, and likely nothing that was going to be permanent. And of the five Sin Archbishops that had attempted to siege the city — one was dead, and the other four had been successfully captured, awaiting transport to the capital of Lugunica. Nothing like this had ever been accomplished in recorded history. In every sense of the word, Subaru had pulled off a miracle.

But in order to do it, he had—

“How many times?” Julius croaked. Subaru glanced his way, and froze at the look of devastation on his face. “Subaru — how many times was it?”

“I—” Subaru broke off. There was a long, long silence as everyone waited for him to answer. “…Does it matter?” he finally retorted. “I think the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Everyone’s safe, and everyone’s happy! Isn’t that the only thing that really matters, in the end?”

Otto made an indecipherable noise. Nobody looked at him.

“You didn’t answer us,” Wilhelm growled. The raw anger in his voice made Subaru stiffen. “How many times was it?”

When Subaru didn’t answer, everyone knew it was because he didn’t know.

“What a boorish question,” Priscilla scoffed. She was the only one there who looked relaxed, fanning her face gently as she peered at the lot of them from the side of the room. “Subaru saw that there was danger and rose to the challenge. If he bled for it in the meanwhile, what does it matter?”

“‘What does it matter?’” Felt repeated, her quiet voice already glittering with the warning sparks of her growing rage. “Big Bro just — killed himself, again and again, for OUR sakes, and — and ‘What does it matter?’”

“For Subaru, the ultimate sacrifice is a thing that he can make as many times as he wishes, as a means to an end,” Priscilla answered. “He can accomplish great things with his ability. He HAS accomplished great things, even. If I were his liege, I would be rewarding him for his accomplishments, not stifling his potential.”

“‘Stifling his potential’?” Felt repeated, disbelief coloring her voice red. “You’d call him — him DYING, again and again — you’d call it POTENTIAL?”

“Has he not allowed you to witness a miracle, peasant?” Priscilla returned. “Through his efforts, he has brought about a solution that would otherwise never have come to fruition. This is a thing to celebrate, is it not?”

“It is absolutely not!” Mimi cried out. “Mimi didn’t want this! Mimi didn’t want to survive because — because someone did THIS for her sake!”

Felt took a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure. “…Subaru,” she said, directing her words towards the focus of the conversation. “Do you really think that winning the fight today was worth — this?”

Subaru stared back at her like she had grown a second head. “Of COURSE it was,” he scoffed, as if it were the obvious answer. “I’m just one person, and — not even a particularly valuable one at that.” From the corner of the room, Otto stared at him with growing despair. He didn’t even notice. “Sure, it — it sucked a lot, but I did it, and now everyone’s fine! So of course it was worth it.”

Felt swallowed, trying her hardest not to scream. She folded her hands in front of her — a practiced motion, one Reinhard had instilled into her through hours and hours of those stupid etiquette lessons. “And…” she faltered. “And you would do it again, if you felt that it was necessary.”

Subaru visibly flinched at the suggestion, but quickly moved to answer her. “O-Of course I would!” he insisted, his eyes darting around. Nearby, Crusch and Reinhard both stared at something that nobody else could see. “I—I AM still a knight, you know. It’s a knight’s JOB to put others before themselves. And…” He swallowed. “I know I’m not good at it, but if I try hard enough — well. My…circumstances…I mean — I’m in the perfect position to put others before me, right?”

“Because you never have to stop doing it,” Julius realized. “Because even if you die — you don’t have to stop.”

Subaru didn’t realize the surge of devastated nausea that such a realization had inspired in the gut of the Finest of Knights. “Exactly!” he crowed. “That’s exactly right! You see?”

Someone made a horrible strangled sound. Nobody knew who it was, and everyone was too focused on the matter at hand to find out, anyway.

“And if we’re not okay with it?” Felt pressed, trying to ignore the hole that was widening in her gut. “If we don’t want any part of — of an exchange like that?”

“…That’s ridiculous,” Subaru scoffed. “Why would anyone not — want to live? That’s stupid.”

“Why indeed,” Ricardo muttered.

“Maybe it’s not that — that someone doesn’t want to live,” Crusch said, her voice tense. “Maybe it’s that someone doesn’t want their life to be saved through…” She shook her head. “Maybe they consider — other things, to be more important.”

“Like what?” Subaru retorted.

“Honor, maybe,” Crusch said. “Ethics. Dignity. Integrity. Any of the things of which a loss would turn a person into a dog. …You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Valuing the alleviation of momentary suffering over a perfect ending is the way of dogs,” Priscilla replied, her eyes glinting. “If momentary suffering is necessary for a perfect ending, then to undergo it for the sake of fulfilling his duty — that is the sign of a wonderful knight.”

“There are limits,” Felt forced out through gritted teeth. “To what level of ‘momentary suffering’ is acceptable. Not that I’d expect YOU to understand that.”

“Lady Felt—”

“Don’t!” Felt snapped. Reinhard stopped. “Just— don’t. Not now.”

“I’d say it’s a perfectly acceptable level of suffering!” Subaru retorted, raising his voice. “I’m the only one who has to go through it, so I’m the one who gets to decide what’s acceptable, right? That’s how it works!”

“No the FUCK it’s not!” Rachins bellowed, taking a step forward. Reinhard quickly grabbed his wrist, preventing him from marching over to punch Subaru in the face. Rachins didn’t even glance back at him, fixated solely on the object of his rage. “You don’t get it make a choice like THAT when you— when you’re planning something THAT HORRIBLE!” he spat. “Who the fuck would be alright with this?! Just one ultimate sacrifice is hard enough to stomach, but — you can’t even tell us how many times it was! How am I supposed to go forward when I know you— YOU—”

“You might have DIED if I didn’t do anything!” Subaru protested. “If it was you or me— even if I had to choose all of you hundreds of times over, then—”

“How was it your place to make that decision for us?!” Anastasia burst out, uncharacteristically emotional. She hadn’t looked this way even back at the inn. “I didn’t want this!” she cried. “I didn’t consent to this! I never wanted to be complicit in something this awful, and here YOU went and made the choice to — to repeatedly sacrifice yourself for all of us regardless! I didn’t WANT you to do this for me!”

“We weren’t able to do anything,” Ferris managed, white as a sheet. He was gripping his head. “We weren’t able to stop nyew at all. And nyew didn’t stop nyerself, either: the first thing nyew decided to do when the Witch Cult attacked was…” Ferris fixed his gaze on Subaru, glassy with panic and devastation. “So long as nyer a knight, and protecting the country is nyer job— we won’t be able to stop nyew at— at all—”

“Oh like that’s any different than what Reinhard is doing,” Subaru retorted. “What, so him being unstoppable in his role as a Sword Saint is fine, but me using my own ability to act as a knight is crossing a line? How is THAT fair?”

Reinhard flinched violently, taking a step backwards.

“How DARE you make a comparison like that?!” Felt spat, finally snapping and raising her voice to a roar. “HOW DARE YOU?! You wanna know what the difference is, Subaru?! Reinhard being the Sword Saint doesn’t mean we’re all dooming him to fucking KILL HIMSELF for our sakes!”

“I can’t believe you would even SUGGEST such a thing,” Julius snarled, uncharacteristically vicious. “The role of the Sword Saint is a heavy one, yes, but it isn’t in any way the same thing as someone sentencing himself to execution after execution for the rest of —” Could Subaru die a natural death? He didn’t even want to THINK about the concept of an eternity trapped in a fate like this. “— of his natural life! You absolute— how could you even consider—?!”

Reinhard was not allowed to wish for his role as the Sword Saint to be taken away from him. Wishing for for such a thing was as good as poisoning his mind against the kingdom itself. In any case, nobody could ever strip him of his title even if they wanted to: nobody was more suited to the role of the Sword of the Kingdom than Reinhard van Astrea.

But now, he realized with a bolt of absolute clarity— now he was on the outside, looking in. Subaru wasn’t wrong about his curse positioning him in a manner that made him uniquely suited for the role of a knight. But if they allowed him to take that position up once again—

Reinhard thought of himself, and how he was never going to escape his title. He thought of Subaru, who was inches away from thrusting himself into the same position. He thought of an old story about his grandmother and grandfather, and how — just once — a Sword Saint had been set free.

“Subaru—” He tried to say, stepping forward, but Wilhelm held out his arm before anyone else could see what he was doing. Reinhard glanced his way, and saw ice blue eyes glimmering with the conviction of tempered steel.

—Reinhard understood. He stepped back to where he had been a second before.

…He likely wouldn’t have been allowed to be the one to do so anyway. Reinhard van Astrea could not act against the good of the kingdom, no matter who got hurt in the process.

Julius was still speaking. “How do you not understand?!” he shouted, his eyes blazing. “You seem to be thinking of this as— as some sort of— you just don’t get it, do you?! Do you have any idea how—” Horrified. Disgusted. Devastated. Mortified. “—how ANGRY we are with you right now?”

“I mean, I’d probably do it anyway!” Subaru pointed out, folding his arms stubbornly. “Whether I have the title or not, I’m always gonna want to help the people around me, right? You can’t stop me from doing THAT.”

The temperature of the room dropped significantly. Subaru’s eyes widened, his arms springing up to wrap around his chest at the sudden chill. A couple of pairs of eyes flickered to Emilia, who sat motionless in her seat.

“…For nyer own sake,” Ferris hissed, one of those in the room that was utterly unaffected by this cold air. He looked very much like he wanted to murder Subaru on the spot. “I am going to assume that was nyer misguided attempt at cracking a JOKE. But on the off-chance that nyew were being serious, I can assure nyew: we have ways of keeping people alive against their will if nyeed be.” He grinned, his face so sour it looked like it might curdle milk. “Nyew’ve seen me deal with suicidal Witch Cult prisonyers, Subaru-kyun. Do nyew think I’m above treating nyew the way I treated them?”

Subaru took a step back.

“Ignoring the absolutely disgusting moral implications of what you just suggested you planned on doing to yourself for the rest of your life,” Julius said coldly, eyes fixed on Subaru’s face. “You do realize that you just threatened ALL OF US, by saying that you would use time travel to bend reality to your heart’s content regardless of how we feel about it — do you not?” Subaru flinched. “I assumed you were better than that.” Julius rolled his shoulder. “But Ferris is right: if you are NOT better than that, then we can find a way to make sure we don’t have to worry about you deciding to reverse time behind everyone’s backs.”

“The lot of you are being ridiculous,” Priscilla scoffed. “Your wonderful knight saved an entire city almost single-handedly, and you wish to remove him from his post? Sacrifice is a part of life. If you can’t stomach the sacrifice necessary to feed the fire of life, then you are unfit to stand in the light of mine gaze.”

“There’s a fucking limit to the kind of sacrifices a reasonable person should accept!” Felt shot back. “Not like you’d understand a thing about being reasonable, you— you MONSTER. How can you talk about someone ripping himself apart so flippantly?!”

“If ripping oneself apart is what a person wishes to do, then I shall not stand in their way.” She smiled. “Just as there is beauty in war, there is beauty in sacrifice — or in this case, the dance of eternal sacrifice, in service of the greater good.” The Sun Princess frowned down at Felt, who was staring at her with a look of horrified disbelief. “It is not Subaru’s fault if a peasant like you cannot handle how he chooses to live and die,” she said coldly. “If he has made his choice, then he has made it so.”

“That’s vile…” Felt choked out. “Even for you, that is VILE.”

“Personal autonomy has limits,” Crusch said coldly. “If a man’s personal autonomy involves harming others, then he must be stopped. Likewise, if it involves him ripping himself apart, then we have a moral duty to stand in his way. — Especially if he has the gall to declare that it is for OUR sakes.”

“As a knight of Lugunica, I understand the nobility of sacrifice,” Julius said. He did not flinch as Priscilla turned to watch him, nor did he look her in the eye. “But as a knight, I understand the weight of it, as well. Giving up one’s life for a cause is one of the heaviest sacrifices one can make — and it is exactly because of that, that I cannot stand for someone who plans to make that sacrifice so many times in repetition.” He turned to face Subaru, alone in the center of the room, and took a deep breath. “In saving Priestella from the Witch Cult, Natsuki Subaru has fulfilled his duty as a knight once and for all,” Julius declared. “He has made the ultimate sacrifice, and he has done so — many, many times over. Allowing him to continue to do so for the sake of this country would damage the worth of the entire nation, and I refuse to stand for it. That’s all I have to say.”

“I stand by my knight,” Anastasia announced, stepping forward. “We are not animals, and I refuse to live as an animal by depending on someone to harm themselves for me in perpetuity — and I refuse to allow my country to do such a thing, either. And I am no longer willing to wait two years for a decision to be made: Natsuki Subaru will be removed from his role today, or the Anastasia Camp will consider him and all of his allies its enemy.”

“The Iron Fang stands with its employer,” Ricardo added, his voice like steel. “But even without its relationship with the Anastasia Camp, I would never stand for something this disgusting, nor would any organization that I lead. And—” He shook his head, looking very much like he wanted to strangle someone. “And I’d HOPE that if — those who I care about — were thrown into a situation — like THIS — that the people they meet would have the basic decency to refuse the same.”

“Mimi hates this,” the eldest of the Pearlbaton triplets forced out, uncharacteristically enraged. She was scratching at the top of her head, yanking at her orange hair. “Mimi hates everything about this. How dare— how DARE you—”

“We want nothing to do with an arrangement like this,” Hetaro confirmed. “I don’t want to be saved by someone doing — this. It’s sick. I’d rather just die.”

“I don’t want to die,” Tivey muttered. “But if I were to live a life dependent on something like — THIS, I’d be no better than vermin. And I don’t want anyone forcing me into that role, either. We stand with our Lady.”

“The three of us might be vermin,” Rachins growled. “But even WE are above depending on an eternal living corpse for our lives and livelihoods. You can fuck right off with that, Subaru.”

“I wouldn’t call us vermin—” Camberley objected.

“All the more reason, then,” Gaston said firmly. “None of us are gonna accept something this — gross. Ever.”

“I agree with those idiots,” Felt snarled, stepping forward defiantly. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about ‘the greater good’: this is vile, and I would be utter scum if I rolled over and let things continue like this. Thank you for your service, Big Bro: now fuck ALL THE WAY off with this Unsung Hero bullshit.”

“My role as the Sword Saint is a duty granted to me by Od Laguna,” Reinhard managed, both outraged and devastated beyond words by the comparison. “It is a burden that I would not wish upon anyone, but the sole grace of my role is that I have been granted it specifically because my capabilities allow me to fulfill it without — undue sacrifice. For you to try and take something like it upon yourself through the use of a curse this vile…” He shook his head. “I will stand with whatever Lady Felt decides,” the Sword Saint said. “As she is against — everything about this — so am I.”

“Disgusting,” Ferris hissed, bristling. There were tears in his eyes. He shook his head, muttering the same word over and over again. “Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting — Nyatsuki Subaru, I hate nyew so, so much—!”

“To keep Natsuki Subaru as a knight after this would be considered the height of indecency,” Crusch declared. “That is where I stand, as do my Camp and my Estate. Lady Emilia, I must insist that you remove him from his position NOW, or I will render our alliance null and void. That is my ultimatum.”

“This— This really feels like an overreaction!” Subaru stammered, backing away from the sea of anger and devastation. “Didn’t everything work out alright, in the end? Wasn’t it worth it? One life in exchange for all of Priestella—”

“It wasn’t just one life, Subaru,” Ricardo spat. “It was one person, over and over again, who decided all on his own that we were the kinds of ANIMALS that would be absolutely fine resting our lives on — on a fucking monstrosity like that!“

“We didn’t even get a CHOICE in the matter,” Ferris cried. “Nyone of us did. “Nyew just went ahead and decided for nyerself that we’d all prefer this — this utter BULLSHIT.“

“Do you not get what an embarrassment this is?” Julius snapped. “For someone to have stepped in and decided on their own that they’re going to take all the suffering of — of the Royal Selection Camps, of the White Scales of Priestella, of EVERYONE who might have otherwise decided to fight back on their own accord — for them to have stolen that choice away and forced everyone else to accept not just one singular sacrifice, but a string of sacrifices so long that you haven’t even been able to tell us how many deaths make it up! It’s a humiliation of the highest order, because you just forced ALL OF US to be complacent in one of the most monstrous, inhuman scenarios I can imagine.“

“Fuck nyew,” Ferris breathed, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. “Fuck nyew, Subaru. Fuck nyew, fuck nyew, fuck nyew—”

“I really don’t think—!”

“How would you have felt,” Felt interrupted. “If Big Sis had done all of this on your behalf?” Subaru froze. She grinned at him, all teeth and no joy behind her smile. “You’d fucking hate it, right?” she asked cheerfully. “You’d scream, and you’d probably cry. You might even throw up, you’d feel so awful. And if she turned to you and said ‘But I gave you a miracle, aren’t you proud of me?’ I’ll bet you’d want to scream at her for it, too.” She leaned forward. “How DARE you do that to us.” Felt hissed. “How fucking dare you.”

“And to think!” Anastasia laughed. It was a venomous, bitter sound that made Subaru want to recoil. “To think, I actually was starting to believe the others’ insistence that you could be trusted to man your post responsibly!” She stared at him, eyes hard. “I was right about this whole situation from the start. Keeping you as a knight was a ridiculous notion, because — THIS — was always going to be the outcome, one way or another.”

Subaru was speechless. Slowly, with jerky movements, he twisted around to the one camp that had yet to make its final assertion.

“G-Guys…?” he managed.

“Cap—” Garfiel hesitated, and then shook his head. Subaru visibly wilted. “Natsuki Subaru can’t be a knight anymore,” he declared. “This is horrible. I didn’t want this. I never wanted anything like this. If I let him do this for — for MY sake, how could I ever look myself in the mirror again? …And I don’t think he’s ever gonna stop unless we force him away from the edge.”

“This is the absolute worst thing you could have done to me, Subaru,” Ram snapped. “I don’t know how you don’t understand that. I don’t WANT to persist via your acts of self-harm: I’m perfectly happy to live to the best of my ability and accept my death when my time has come to an end. A life of dignity is one that I desire most of all. —And here you are, planning to force me to rely on your trail of self-destruction for the rest of my natural life? That’s a vulgarity beyond words.”

“I really thought you had learned,” Otto muttered. His face was buried in his hands. “I really, really thought you had learned, Subaru.”

Despair slowly dawned across the face of the self-proclaimed knight.

“The old me might have allowed for this,” Rem admitted. Her voice was quiet and broken. “I am not that woman anymore. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“Betty doesn’t want her contractor to become a living corpse, I suppose,” Beatrice said quietly. “Betty wants you to be happy, but that also means that she doesn’t want you to destroy yourself. You can hate me for this if you want, Subaru. But I can’t let you — I can’t let you do this.”

Subaru stared at all of them, his upper lip wobbling, and then his eyes flitted to the last person in the room, the one who had not said a single thing since they had entered the building.

Emilia could not bring herself to voice the words, but her silence spoke a thousand in its stead. Subaru made a horrible croaking noise, wide-eyed and devastated.

Wilhelm had to force himself to speak, but when he did, his voice came out loud and clear and true.

“Natsuki Subaru.”

Subaru could no longer be a knight. For him to continue being a knight would be for him to continue to sacrifice himself for the sakes of those around him, over and over again, without regard for whether they wanted him to do so or not. For him to remain a knight would be for the kingdom to approve this cycle of endless self-destruction, so that it could profit off of his pain until the day it finally sucked him dry. —And this could no longer be a decision that waited a year, a month, a day, but rather a move that had to be made as quickly and decisively as possible.

Lady Emilia had already realized what Wilhelm was about to do. Her eyes were glassy and dull, but she bowed her head in assent when he briefly caught her gaze. Do what you must.

For his own good, Subaru could no longer be a knight. However, Emilia firing him after just a year of service would leave a black mark on his record that could last until the end of his life. And with him having saved the Watergate City nearly single-handedly, for him to willingly abandon his duty now would paint him as a fickle, untrustworthy coward for the rest of his life. Titles brought with them expectations and responsibilities, and great deeds even more so. Subaru had somehow entangled him in a web of both that threatened to trap him as the nation’s self-replenishing sacrifice for — in a worst-case scenario, perhaps for the rest of eternity.

“W-Wilhelm?” Subaru whimpered, his voice high-pitched and uncertain.

But there was a way to retire him that would not impact his reputation, or hamper him from pursuing any other future career path he may choose, or even leave him with the majority of the blame. It was the same way that, many years ago, a young man on a mission had set free the woman who would become his wife.

Subaru would hate him for this until the old man’s dying day, and perhaps even beyond that. But Wilhelm loved him, and that meant he valued the quality of the boy’s life more than he ever could his personal reputation in his eyes.

Priscilla realized what the Sword Demon was about to do moments before he opened his mouth again. She sighed, snapping her ruby red fan shut. The sound echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

“Natsuki Subaru,” Wilhelm Van Astrea declared. “Due to finding you unworthy to serve our nation as a knight of the Kingdom, I challenge you to a duel.”

*

Wilhelm had challenged Subaru to a duel over his position as a knight of the Kingdom. Subaru’s liege, Lady Emilia, had consented to such terms. If Subaru were to win, he would be allowed to remain where he was. If Wilhelm were to win, then Subaru would be forced to retire from his post — and in the eyes of the public, all the blame for his removal would rest squarely on Wilhelm’s shoulders.

Subaru, Wilhelm, and everyone witnessing the event knew what the outcome was going to be.

“What are you doing?!” an old lady cried from the stands. “What are you DOING?! He saved us — he saved all of our lives! Stop, STOP—!!”

“Natsuki Subaru-dono is a hero!” shouted a young man, hands clenching the rails. “Why are you doing this?! What did he do wrong?! He didn’t do ANYTHING, just LET HIM—!!”

“Wilhelm—” Subaru tried to plead, one last time.

Wilhelm met his gaze with one fierce enough to burn. “This is for your own good.”

Subaru swallowed, and raised his whip.

It only took three hits. The first smacked the handle of Subaru’s weapon with the flat of the blade, knocking it out of his hands and into the air, where it spiraled in an arc. The second whacked Subaru on the top of his head, stunning him hard enough to make him lose his balance. The third took advantage of this wrong-footedness by slamming into his chest, knocking him down on his back. Then the weight of the man’s knee settled against his chest, pinning him to the ground, with the edge of the blade grazing against his throat. And that was that.

“The winner,” Ferris announced, his voice muffled in Subaru’s ears. “Is Wilhelm van Astrea.”

It had not even lasted a full ten seconds. Those who watched would later describe it as Wilhelm scruffing him, much like one would a misbehaving puppy. Even the way he had pinned him to the ground had been careful, less like an actual fight and more like a sparring session between parent and child.

It was a duel far gentler and kinder than his previous with Julius. But the results were far graver in his eyes, for he had been successfully stripped of his title as a knight and reduced to simply being Natsuki Subaru.

[spotsandsocks]

Hiii spotty

🎃 + ghost

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn 💜 This is the last of the prompts you sent me. Got 2 other left then I’m done. It’s been a productive few days 😂 Any way using the last of the battery on my phone during to power cuts! To share this almost 500 words on ghost

“There’s a ghost. Only explanation.” Buck shoves the papers around the table again making Hen exclaim in irritation as he messes with the paperwork she’s been dealing with. Eddie stifles a laugh as she slaps his hand and Buck makes an offended face.

“They weren’t here last time, they’re not here now.” She points her finger at him. “Don’t touch my forms again!”

Buck backs off with an unhappy frown. “But I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Clearly not! You haven’t found them yet have you?”

Eddie thinks she makes a good point.

“There’s a poltergeist moving my stuff. It's out to get me.”

Eddie sighs, sometimes the man is utterly ridiculous. “You think a ghost being out to get you is more likely than you just misplacing your keys?”

Buck looks him dead in the eye, face serious, entirely sincere.

“Don’t you?”

Hen snorts as she collects her forms to move somewhere less distracting.

“No Buck I don’t. This is like that Billy Bones thing from last year again.”

Buck mutters something that sounds like a sulky “was a curse.”

Eddie stands up, “ok you drove here right? We haven’t been anywhere right?”

Buck nods, looking grumpy at being made to think logically.

“So….?” He waits for someone to make sense but that doesn’t happen.

“The ghost has had plenty of time to mess with me.

“Or…” it’s obvious he needs to be the sensible one again. “You just left them somewhere we haven’t checked yet?”

He gives his friend a look that says, “don’t you think?” Buck ignores him.

“Come on, I’ll help look. We’ll retrace your steps.”

Buck follows him downstairs but he complains all the way to his jeep.

“Don’t blame me if the ghost starts hiding your stuff too as revenge for not believing in him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Bad karma…”

Eddie tunes him out. They retrace his movements from jeep to locker room, to getting changed and Eddie eventually finds the lost keys inside Buck’s shoe inside his locker.

He holds them out and tries, not particularly hard, not to look too smug.

Buck snatches them out of his hand with a begrudgingly muttered thank you.

Eddie refrains from gloating and starts to walk away but Buck’s voice calls out after him.

“You know I don’t remember putting them there and technically we don’t know that it wasn’t a ghost who moved them do we? Eddie?… Eddie?”

But Eddie’s already made his escape, he loves the man, he really does but even love isn’t enough to put up with this nonsense a second longer. Buck calls and he looks back over his shoulder and mimes being unable to hear with an exaggerated frown then hiding his smile walks away.

Tags for friends @hippolotamus @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @hermscat @repressedqueen @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @bekkachaos @inell @tizniz @underwaterninja13

[casteliacityramen]

[Previous] [PART 2 OF 2]

“I flew around a bit." 

"I overheard some talks about an open gala in Sinnoh and I decided to attend it. I’ll tell you the whole story about what happened later, but...

... Even when I was trying to relax, I couldn't feel comfortable with myself. Like… like wearing clothes that didn’t fit. The longer the night went on, nothing felt right. And I’m not just talking about the disguise.”

“You felt like a caricature of who you used to be.”

“Yeah. I knew I was going to feel awful when the Continental War was done and over with. I knew we were going to be reprimanded, or worse, but…” Rio frowns deeply, trying to gather her tangled thoughts together.

“I didn't think it'd mess me up as bad as this. I didn’t recognize who I was by the end of the night. I’m worried there’s no going back to who I used to be. I miss the version of myself who could go to a gala and not be miserable in the corner. It feels like that part of me died--that optimistic part of me."

“Do you get what I’m talking about?”

Rio waits with bated breath, only for Ray to curtly answer:

"Yes. And no?"

Rio feels her temper quickly flare up as she lets out a frustrated huff, "Whaddya mean by that?"

Ray raises his palms towards her, slowly.

"It's not that I don't understand what you're saying,” Ray turns to her and gives her a faint smile, "I like to think my experiences are changing me for the better. That’s where you and I differ."

“What, that you’re becoming less of who you used to be and more of… whatever this is?”

"A sub-par noodle penchant?" Ray laughed, throwing Rio's words right back at her from earlier that day.

"You know what I mean, Ray," Rio feels her face get hot. "It's as if..."

"... It's as if you're undoing yourself to make up for what you've done," Rio whispers out loud. The sudden conclusion steals her breath. "Ray, you're not doing all this to punish yourself, are you?"

"..."

"Please say no.”

"It may have started out that way, but that's not the case now."

“Ray…” Rio whispered in disbelief, out loud. 

“You may see this as me continuing a dead man’s legacy. But it’s more than that. This place was a gifted to me and came with a wish. I intend to honor that gesture.

Even though we can’t do any of our usual duties, that’s no excuse to stop acting like a shepherd.”

“If your version of helping the commonwealth is to further seat yourself into guilt, I can’t let you follow through with this.”

“You’re still not getting it, It’s not like that."

"Are you sure about that? Because it's all starting to sound like you're doing this as some sort of messed up way of repenting for your sins."

"I'm telling you, it's not like that."

“Ray, there's a moment when memorialization for someone else turns into hurting yourself." 

"Like how you visited your own gravestone in Johto? Do you really see all of your soldiers offering gifts in your memory and call that self harm? Didn't you just say that you're grieving over someone who you used to be? Is it really that wrong? To cling to what's left!?"

"For me, it is."

"We aren't mortal, Ray. This entire conversation we're having? This argument? All of it? This is what happens when we can't move on. We drag everything with us for hundreds, maybe thousands of years whether we like it or not. This is only going to bring you pain in the long run.

I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier today, but I still stand by what I said. You have no right to continue Tai Ishikawa's legacy, even if all of this was a gift.

All of this? Hanging around Ingram's descendants, Ayumi and Jack? Working an ungodly amount of hours for a tiny bit of yen? The past guilt alone will eat you alive."

"I'm aware of what happens to me if I stew in it. I've been here five years longer than you have,” Ray mutters. “Besides, do you think that I don't know how to live with all the pain I've gathered? Do you really think that guilt alone has made me stick it out this far?”

Of course not. But... she can't simply admit that.

She’s seen him on good days, bad days, and worse days. She's seen him scraping by with little money to his name but continuing to honestly run the business with a straight back and taut shoulders.

She shakes her head, unsure of herself. After all, she's borrowing words that Ray used to tell her in the past. She's not used to being on this side of the argument, which begs the question: are they destined to swap places again somewhere, sometime down the future?

"I've seen what guilt does to you, Ray. I sure as shit know what it's doing to me," Rio shakes her head, sighing. "I don't think this is only guilt... But there's more of it than I want to see. I don't need any more reasons to lose sleep at night if I can keep you from hurting yourself."

“Then…

... Are you willing to stop me? Stop all of this if I fly past that line?"

"You're already dangerously close. Some would say that you're already past the line of hurting yourself."

"I'm not."

Rio was hoping for any sense of weakness, any stumble over words, fumble in his convictions, but Ray continued to stare at her. Rio was the first to look away.

"All of this… It helped you?”

"It has. I’d love to have you here."

"Okay."

--

The two sit in comfortable silence. As the sun fades, so too, does the tension between them. With no further words to be exchanged, the rest of the decanter behind the counter is emptied out.

Ray makes a disgusted face with every sip. One of the unfortunate effects of their blessings is the rapid processing of whatever toxins enter their body, like alcohol. If they wanted to get remotely buzzed, they had to drink the stuff that was barely safe for consumption.

Which reminds her...

“I thought I’d get you this as a peace offering.”

“What is this?”

“Got it from the gala I talked about earlier. Wine from out of this dimension. Just like the guests."

“What?”

“Later. But guess what? I actually got drunk.”

“Bullshit. Why'd you make me drink the rest of that decanter? Pour me some.”

“You’re the one with the hands, you pour us some.”

Before Ray could reach behind the counter to grab the glasses once more, they are interrupted by the sound of a squeaky stool and a pained, muffled grunt at the end of the stand.

Jack sits in the seat farthest from them, his eyes never meeting theirs. His mouth opens, but it takes a long time for him to slowly form the words. He shrinks as he whispers:

“I don’t know where else to go.”

It's about time they get ready to open back up, anyway.

[Pinned Post]

[sjsmith56]

Mr. Barnes Seizes the Day

Summary - AU one shot. Mr. Barnes, a bachelor grammar school principal romances a spinster teacher on his staff, after receiving his orders to report for duty in WW II.

Length: 6.5 K

Characters: James Barnes, named OFC.

Warnings: lack of confidence, fear of rejection, no smut although it is implied.

Author notes: Was going to wait on posting this but these recent pictures brought up an idea for a story. Other writers may see him as a mobster, but in this AU I see him as an unmarried school principal contemplating his life choices and deciding to do something about it.  Carpe diem is Latin, translated often to "seize the day." Images of Sebastian Stan by @popeofthebowery. 

Brooklyn, January 1943

He looked in the mirror as he did his tie, the same colour tie he had worn every school day for 18 years.  It had always been a black tie with a white shirt, a black sweater vest, and black suit, black shoes; his current uniform, soon to be replaced by a pink and green one.  The new uniform would actually be a dark olive drab jacket over a lighter shade drab for the trousers but he had it on good authority that the officers in the army called them pinks and greens.  It was going to be quite the change for the 40-year-old bachelor. 

James Barnes looked once again at the orders he received in the mail yesterday, to report for basic training, followed by officer school.  After all the years of being regarded as too soft to be anything but a teacher, Mrs. Barnes only son Bucky was going to war.  Not that the staff at the school knew him as Bucky.  To them, he was always Mr. Barnes, a quiet, bearded, unmarried man who seemed destined to always be alone.  After Ma died, he had been just that as his sisters were busy with their own families.  Well, at least with him being in the army, he would be going somewhere, doing something, instead of just being the principal at a grammar school in Brooklyn.  He sighed.  Maybe, just maybe he could get past his usual introverted nature and go out with a woman before he left.  Perhaps he could even finally get up the nerve to ask Miss Heathcott to dinner, or at least a walk in the park.  It had only been 12 years since she first joined the staff at the grammar school.  He really should have asked her out then when he was still a young man and had more to offer than the confirmed bachelor he now was.  How she was still unmarried was beyond him but maybe she was waiting for the right man.

He combed his hair into its usual place, put his vest on and went to the window, just like he did every weekday morning to see the weather, confirming that it looked like another grey winter day.  He turned around, taking in his two-bedroom apartment, his haven after a busy day dealing with the stress of running a school.  The bookcases full of his favourite titles, the gramophone, and records of the jazz music he loved, were his escape from his loneliness.  It suddenly bothered him that it would all be sitting here, unused unless he could find someone to sublet it to, someone who would look after it for him so that when he returned, he could live the quiet life again in his personal haven.

After his usual breakfast of two boiled eggs, toast and coffee, Mr. Barnes washed up the dishes, brushed his teeth, put his jacket on, then his overcoat, and his hat, ready for the brief walk to the subway station.  When he got there a lineup awaited him.  Now that gasoline and rubber were rationed, many people had to put their cars up on blocks and switch to public transportation.  It had made commuting longer and more crowded.  He stood in the packed train car, holding onto the strap that hung down from the top bar, trying to keep a respectable distance from the women who had joined the work force since the men were called to war.  At his stop, several others got off, going their different ways after leaving the station.  It was only a few minutes walk to the school, and he fished his master keys out.  Only he and the head custodian had them.  Mr. Barnes usually unlocked the school in the morning, Mr. Santucci locked it up at night.  He turned on the lights from the master electrical panel, then entered his office, taking his overcoat off.  Checking the thermostat, he made sure it read 72°, so that it would be warm for the children by the time they got there.  Then he started up the coffee urn in the staff room, before unlocking the staff door, knowing that they would start arriving within the next quarter hour.  It was all part of his usual morning routine, and it suddenly struck him how much he was stuck in that rut of duty, habit, and dullness.  Leaning against an empty wall he wondered what he had become.

He was still standing in the staff room, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating, so he could empty the used grounds then clean the filter, to prevent the coffee from becoming bitter, when Miss Heathcott arrived.  She stepped inside, surprised to see Mr. Barnes leaning against a wall, looking down to the floor but not seeing anything.  He seemed a little pensive, then he heard her and straightened up, giving her a small smile.

"Good morning, Miss Heathcott," he said, politely, trying to restore his usual projection of calm leadership.  "You're early today."

"I had some final preparations for art class," she answered, taking her coat off and hanging it up in the closet.  "Is everything alright, Mr. Barnes?  You seem a little preoccupied."

"I am a little," he answered truthfully.  "I have an important announcement for the staff, but I'll wait for everyone to arrive before I make it.  It will only take a few moments between first bell and final bell."  He moved over to a chalkboard in the staff room.  "I guess I should put that down so that people return in time to hear the announcement.  Coffee is made if you wish to have some.  I still have to empty and clean the filter."

"Thank you," she smiled.  "I will.  I can clean the filter for you, since you were thoughtful enough to get it started."

She poured herself a coffee then opened the top and carefully lifted the filter with the steaming grounds out of the urn, aware that he was watching her.  Why it made her a little nervous today was a mystery to her.  They had worked together in the school for twelve years, her entire school career.  He had been a 5th grade teacher when she started fresh out of college.  Promoted to assistant principal ten years ago, and principal four years ago, he was still a handsome man and she had wondered if they could ever have more than a working relationship.  But his introverted nature, especially around women, became clear soon enough and she gave up any hope of him noticing her in a romantic sense, resigning herself to being a spinster since other men seemed as indifferent to her.  Still, he was always a gentleman, and an effective manager of their staff as he was quite unflappable by the shenanigans of some students, as well as being well respected by the parents.

Leaving the staff room to don his overcoat again and take on the supervision of arriving students, Mr. Barnes greeted everyone as they arrived.  There was always a persistent group of children around him, sharing the details of their lives.  He took it all in good stride, knowing from experience that for those children from a single parent family, they needed the attention of another adult to hear their thoughts and observations.  It was also a way for him to learn who was having difficulties with the necessities of life or dealing with issues that could be overwhelming.  For the children who were smaller, weaker, and prone to bullying, he was their knight in shining armour, making it very clear that particular behaviour was not tolerated at his school.  It was all part of keeping the school running efficiently while providing a safe learning environment.

Before the first bell sounded, he asked some of the more responsible students in the 5th grade to shepherd the younger students to their rooms as he had a brief staff meeting to attend.  When the bell sounded, he made sure everyone was lined up, filed inside in an orderly fashion, then he went straight to the staff room, removing his overcoat along the way.  The talking in the staff room stopped as he entered, placed his overcoat on a chair and stepped towards the chalkboard.

"Thank you for being here on time," he said.  "There is some important news to share after I received a letter in the mail yesterday.  I am to report for basic army training in one month.  After 8 weeks I am to attend officer training school, after which I will be sent to the European theatre.  I haven't informed the superintendent yet, but I will as soon as the morning classes start.  I will recommend that Mr. Miller be promoted to principal in my absence, but the final decision is with the administration of our school district, as are any decisions regarding assistant principal.  The parents and student body will be informed once we get the confirmation of the transfer of responsibility."

He waited for questions.  Since there weren't any, he nodded his head briefly at the staff, then left, picking up his overcoat along the way.  Mrs. Hardy, his secretary, followed a few minutes later, taking her position at the desk in the front office, while he hung his overcoat up.  He came out again, to supervise in the hallways before the final bell rang, signalling the start of the school day.  Satisfied that everyone was where they should be he returned to the office and sat at his desk to make that phone call to the superintendent's office.  With that out of the way, he began dealing with the school budget. 

That lasted until two boys were brought into the office by Miss Heathcott, both boys appearing very sullen.  She left them in the outer office then appeared at Mr. Barnes' door to explain the situation before returning to her classroom.  He couldn't help but watch her leave wondering why it made him feel like he was being left behind.  Putting that aside he dealt with the boys' dispute, listening to their versions of it as he sat in his chair, his hand on his jaw.  Their dispute was based on a game of marbles that resulted in one of the boys losing his boulder aggie, large agate marble for those who never played.  He told them a story of his boyhood friend who died of polio at the age of 10.  Steve and he played marbles all the time, regularly winning and losing against each other but never letting the heat of the game interfere with their friendship. 

"When he died his ma gave me his marbles, knowing that he would want me to have them.  She said I could give them to my sons, except I don't have any because I never got married.  You two remind me of us, except we never fought each other or called each other names, other than jerk or punk.  I miss him, every day of my life.  Marbles are just things, to be won and to be lost.  But friendship lasts a lifetime and beyond.  Don't let the marbles make you enemies.  Now, if you two can show me that you can get along and maybe become friends, I might be persuaded to give you a bag of marbles that have some dandies in them.  But you have to prove that you're worthy of them.  Can you boys do that for me?"

They both promised and Mr. Barnes walked the boys back to the classroom, making it clear he expected them to apologize to their classmates and Miss Northcott for interrupting the class.  With a nod to the woman teacher who smiled warmly at him in a way that he felt deep inside, he returned to his office and the matter of the budget for the rest of the day.  When classes were dismissed, Mr. Barnes usually insisted that all teachers make an appearance outside the school, both to make sure the students were dispersed and to be a visible presence for any parents who were there.  In his experience he found some parents, especially those from certain families were uncomfortable inside the school but found it easier to approach a teacher outside.  Today there were a few inquiries but nothing that wasn't handled quickly.  More than once he found his attention drawn to Miss Heathcott, her caramel-coloured hair shining in the winter sunlight and her cheeks pink from the brisk air.  Had she always been this beautiful?  The answer was yes but she seemed even more beautiful today.

Most of the teachers stayed for a time to prepare for the next day classes, but Mr. Barnes was always the last one of out the school, other than the custodians.  It was just the way he was.  Walking through the hallways to find out who was still present before he finally left, he was surprised to see Miss Northcott still in her classroom, considering she was in early that morning.  He watched her for several moments, unseen by her.  Intently focused on some papers on her desk, strands of her hair had worked their way over her face, and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked.  Knocking gently on her door frame, he stood in the doorway, as she looked up at him.  Her eyes were a little red.  Had she been crying?

"You're here late.  Is everything alright?"

Embarrassed, she looked away briefly.  "Mostly."  She gave a nervous laugh.  "I know that's not much of an answer.  I guess I'm a little concerned about you going to war.  It will be different here, without you."

He approached her desk, deciding to be bold for once in his life.

"Would you go out with me?" he asked.  "Dinner, or even just a walk on an afternoon this weekend?"

She looked up at him again, noticing how his distinctive blue eyes held their gaze on her.  She could get lost in those eyes.

"A walk sounds nice," she said.  "Here, or in the city?"

He smiled, his even white teeth adding to his handsome features.  "Central Park.  I can meet you at the subway or there at the park."

"At the park is fine," she said.  "Saturday, at 2 pm, at the boathouse ice rink?  Perhaps we can rent skates."

Envisioning the possibility of his arm around her waist as they skated in Central Park he agreed to her suggestion and the date was made.  As he waited for her to put her coat and galoshes on in the staff room before he left, he was filled with an anticipation he hadn't felt in years.  For the remainder of the week, it was challenging to keep their mind on their work.  Both of them, alone and lonely, wondered if perhaps this could be the beginning of something wonderful.  It was difficult not to imagine a future together, even though they had no idea if they were compatible beyond a good work relationship.  For the first time in a long while, both individuals dared to dream of a future with someone at their side.

Then Saturday morning dawned, and Mr. Barnes looked out his window in dismay at the heavy snow that was falling.  Quickly turning on the radio he listened to the announcer describe a weather system that was supposed to go north to Canada, but instead came east to New York.  Temperatures were expected to plummet throughout the day.  It was suggested that the next few days of snowfall could shut the whole city down with the amount that was expected.  Sitting forlornly at his kitchen table, Mr. Barnes made the decision to cancel the date and pulled out his list of teacher names, addresses and telephone numbers.  As he picked out Lucy Heathcott's name in the list, he noted her address was within walking distance of his apartment.  As the phone rang, he suddenly thought of another way to see her.  It was quite improper to ask this of Miss Heathcott, but something told him that if he didn't take this chance, he might regret it for the rest of his life.  For too long he had followed the path of least resistance.  Now was the time for confidence.

"Carpe diem," he said out loud, just as the receiver on the end was picked up.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end.  He recognized it as Miss Heathcott.  "Who is this?"

"James Barnes," he replied.  Bold, be bold.  "It seems that the weather will make our plans for Central Park unwise, but I wanted to suggest an alternative."

She was quiet for a moment.  "I'm listening."

"You don't live far from me," he said, "and I would be willing to come over and walk you back, but would you consider coming to my apartment?  We can have lunch, listen to music and talk."

He let out a shaky breath.  He had done it, had suggested something as an alternative to cancelling the date.  She was quiet again, then he heard it, an almost imperceptible whisper of carpe diem.  Was it possible that she also wished to throw caution to the wind and do something completely out of character?

"It's supposed to get worse during the day," she said, hesitantly.  "What if by the time I have to go home it is isn't possible?"

It wasn't an outright refusal, but he understood that her reputation was on the line.  She was an unmarried woman, in a position of responsibility.  If it wasn't possible for her to go home, then she would have to stay at his apartment which could reflect poorly on both of them.  He did have a second bedroom.  Why couldn't Miss Heathcott be his guest and stay in the other bedroom?  That wasn't improper, was it?

"You can stay," he answered.  "I have a second bedroom.  It was my mother's before she passed away.  You would be my guest."  He breathed out.  Carpe diem.  "It's just that I was so looking forward to spending time with you.  When I saw the snow, and heard the forecast, it made me feel that perhaps fate was conspiring against us.  Then I realized that life is a choice.  We either accept the limitations placed on us, or we strive to overcome them.  If you insist on returning to your rooming house before dark, I will make sure you get home safely."

He closed his eyes, praying that she would accept. 

"Meet me halfway," she said, after a long silence.  "I live in a rooming house and the landlady would be bothered by a man picking me up.  I'll bring some things to stay, just in case, but I don't promise anything."

An hour later Mr. Barnes met Miss Heathcott, both bundled up enough to cover their faces, but he recognized her scarf and approached her as the snow fell in large wet clumps.  Extending his hand, he took her small valise from her, then offered her his other arm for the walk back to his apartment.  It was the first time they had ever touched and her presence on his arm felt wonderful to him.  They didn't speak until they entered his building and stamped the snow off their feet.  In his apartment they removed their galoshes, and heavy overcoats, hanging them up in the closet by the door.  Both quickly ran their hands through their hair.  He took her valise, leading Miss Heathcott, Lucy, to the second bedroom, handing her luggage to her at the door.

"I'll leave you to get settled," he said.  "Would you like a coffee or would a tea interest you?"

"Tea would be nice," she answered.  "Milk, no sugar.  Thank you ... James."

Lucy came out to a tray set up on a table in the living room, with a teapot, two cups with saucers, and milk.  Taking a closer look at the living room space, she thought it felt very comfortable, with good quality furniture and decor.  Although it was not what she was expecting it showed her host in a positive light.  Noticing the full bookshelves and the record collection she smiled, somehow not surprised at what Mr. Barnes ... James, did to relax.  He came out of the kitchen, carrying a small plate of cookies, wearing a pair of brown trousers, a grey shirt, and a pullover sweater with an argyle pattern of brown and grey over it.  She must have made a noise because he looked at her, then at himself, suddenly self-conscious.

"I've never seen you wear anything other than your black suit and white shirt," she said.  "You look nice, like a different person."

"My first principal insisted on all the men teachers wearing the same suit," he answered.  "Said it was a mark of professionalism.  It just became a habit, I guess.  I usually wear something like this on the evenings and weekends.  In the summer I'm even more relaxed in appearance."  A compliment on his clothing should be returned.  "You look good, too.  I've never seen you in slacks."

"With the cold weather I thought it was prudent," she breathed.  "You live alone?"

He approached closer to where she stood.  "Yes.  My mother lived with me as my sisters are married with small children.  She became too ill to live at home and had to go into the hospital.  She passed away about three years ago.  My father died shortly after I graduated from college. I assumed responsibility for caring for my family."

"I'm sorry.  My folks are still alive but they're in Illinois.  I only get back to see them at Christmas and in the summer." 

They both stopped talking and stood there, unsure what to do next.  He gestured to an armchair for Lucy to sit in, while he sat on the couch.  Pouring her tea first, he handed her the cup and saucer, then poured some for himself.  They sipped from their cups quietly, letting the warmth of the liquid rejuvenate them.  Sitting back, Mr. Barnes crossed his legs at the knee.  Lucy stayed upright in the armchair, crossing her legs at the ankle and angling them to one side. 

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"10 years," he answered.  "After my sisters got married my mother's health took a turn and she was unable to be in a place with stairs.  This apartment had elevator access which was easier for her.  Taking care of her took up most of my spare time outside of the school and left no time for courting."  He sipped again.  "I don't want to give it up while I'm away so I'm looking for someone to sublet it while I am overseas."

"It's a very nice place," said Lucy.  "It feels comfortable."  I could be happy living here.  It's much nicer than the rooming house.

He suddenly leaned forward and picked up the plate of cookies offering it to her.  With a polite smile, she took one, placing it on her saucer. 

"You have an interesting assortment of books and records," she said, after she bit into her cookie.  "Have you read all of the books and listened to all of the music?"

"Yes, to both," he answered.  "I taught my sisters to dance with those records, and I've been an avid reader since I was a boy.  Do you read?"

"Yes.  I listened more to the radio for music than bought records.  Who's your favourite author?"

"I was first interested in the stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells, then I discovered The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  It was like being transported to another universe.  Did you know he invented several languages just for the world he created, a place he called Middle Earth?  He's a brilliant man."

"I'll have to read it."  She ate some more of her cookie.  "I'm more of a mystery fan, myself.  Agatha Christie is a favourite."

"She is a good writer."  He looked towards his bookshelf.  "I have the ones with Hercule Poirot in them.  He's a fascinating character."

Lucy beamed at James, glad to have found something in common with him.  They talked more about books, music, and movies, although both admitted they didn't go to the pictures too often.  She offered to help prepare lunch and they talked more in the kitchen about food.  They spent the afternoon listening to several radio shows, sharing the sofa.  As the day lengthened into the late afternoon, Lucy suddenly moved to the window looking out over the snowy landscape.  There were no vehicles about and only a few people were walking.  The wind had come up as well, as she could hear it whistle a little bit through the window.

"I should go home," said Lucy.  "If I wait until dark it will make it difficult to see where I'm going."

"Don't go."  James said quickly.  "I am having a wonderful time getting to know you better."

"What would people say if they knew I was here?  I could lose my job."

"But they don't know," he answered.  "Did your landlady notice you leaving with your valise?"

Lucy nodded then looked down.  "I lied and told her I was spending the night with a girlfriend whose husband had just left for England.  Said she was nervous about being alone during the snowfall."

Wringing her hands a little betrayed her distress at having to lie.  Gently, he placed one of his hands on hers, stilling her motions.  It was a little presumptuous, he knew, but he didn't want her to leave.  This had been a wonderful time for him.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.  "In the morning the snowplows will likely be out, and the footing will be easier to manage."  He looked out the window.  "By the time we got halfway you would have to walk the rest of the way alone in the dark and I couldn't ... I wouldn't leave you to do that.  The odds of your landlady seeing us would increase.  Please ... stay."

Her hands were so soft that he was unaware he was gently rubbing his thumb over the back of one of them.  She looked at it, then at him and swallowed.  Smiling, he released her hands and stepped back. 

"I'll stay but you promise to be a gentleman?"

"On my mother's memory," he replied.  "I would never force myself on you."

She took him at his word.  Even though it was cold and dark outside, inside, in his heart, he felt light and young again.  Together they prepared dinner, lighting candles on the table, and listening to orchestral music on the radio.  After washing up, they returned to the living room and sat quietly again in the stillness that seemed to amplify the beating of their hearts.

"Would you dance with me?" he asked.  "There is always nice music on the radio." 

"I'm not very good," she replied, blushing.  "I rarely get asked."

"That's alright.  Neither am I really.  All we have to do is sway and move our feet a little.  Please."

She nodded and he turned the radio on, tuning in a station with slow dance music.  Taking his hand, she tensed a little at how his other hand touched her back, bringing them closer together.  Tentatively, they began swaying to the music, and slowly relaxed into it.  He placed his head close to hers, close enough to smell her perfume and became brave enough to tell her something, when The Man I Love came on.

"Every time I hear this song, I imagine I'm in Paris," he murmured.  "I'm with a beautiful woman and we're outside a café.  The music wafts out onto the sidewalk and the only light is from the streetlamp above.  Even though there are others there, in our circle of light we feel like we're alone.  It's a warm summer night.  I'm wearing trousers and a dress shirt, no tie, and my sleeves are rolled up because of the heat, while my partner is wearing a pretty dress and heels."

She looked up at him, noticing how dark his eyes seemed.  Lucy's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure James could hear it, but he just kept looking at her.

"What happens next?" she asked. 

"Suddenly, we are alone, as everyone goes inside to refresh their drinks.  I brush my fingers along her cheek."  He stopped and brushed his fingers just above her jawline.  "Then I kiss her softly on the lips and draw her into my embrace."

Looking at his lips she opened hers slightly and he leaned over kissing her gently, pulling her into his arms, as she wrapped her arms around him.  It was every bit as nice as he imagined.  Her lips were so soft and pliable, and the touch of their tongues sent a sensation into his brain that made him want more.  How her body felt, melded with his as they held each other, reminded him of the first woman he fell in love with when he was in college. The memory of how they spent their first night together affected him physically in a way he thought was gone forever.  The song finished but neither of them heard the next song be introduced or begin as they kept the sweet connection going.  Slowly, he pulled away then caressed her face.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said.  "Lucy, I know that we don't have long before I leave but would you allow me to see you until then?"

"To what end?" she asked.  "I've wanted to kiss you as well, but I want more than just spending time together."  She looked away, embarrassed a little.  "I felt how your body responded to me as we kissed. I know it's normal in a man, but I've never been in the position of feeling desire that way. I want more."

He gasped slightly.  What was she saying?  Carefully, he cleared his throat.

"You felt desire for me?"  She nodded.  That was unexpected.  He had accepted her caveat of being a gentleman when she agreed to stay.  "It's been a long time since I was with a lady.  College, actually.  I never expected you to ...."

She put her fingertips on his lips, and he kissed them, softening his gaze on her.  He couldn't deny that the thought of being with her in that way wasn't enticing to him, but this was new ground for him.  As a man, he wanted it but as a gentleman there was more to consider, especially for her. 

What if a child was conceived?  It would make him a cad if he was overseas and received a letter from her saying their tryst had produced a baby.  She would lose her job, be ostracized, and evicted from her rooming house, although she could live here.  He glanced around his apartment; she could live here.  What if she did so as his wife?  They had known each other for 12 years.  They weren't strangers.  He was a bachelor; she was a spinster; successful marriages had been built just on that.  With the war on, she could continue working as a married woman, if she wanted.  He looked at her upturned face, a small smile gracing it, and felt that warmth again.  Carpe diem.

"Would you marry me?" he asked.  "We could go to City Hall before it closes one day and get the licence and be married next weekend.  You could move in here, stay here while I'm away, be waiting for me when I get back.  If what we do tonight produces a child, you'll be taken care of.  If anything happens to me, all that I have will be yours."

Marry him?  Her mouth was suddenly dry, and no words were forthcoming from her lips.  A proposal certainly was unexpected.  She had crossed a boundary by coming here, then had crossed another by even suggesting they be together physically.  Now, he was offering a chance to make it right.  He was offering the protection of his name and his home by asking her to be his wife, regardless of what would come from this night.  Is that what she wanted?  Carpe diem.

"Yes."

Their kiss was brief but deep, intense, and full of anticipation. James, ever the gentleman, wanted to ensure Lucy felt safe with him. He wouldn’t be aggressive with her as it wasn’t his nature. They could begin with sharing a bed and go from there.

"Do you want to change into your nightclothes?" he asked.  "We can be in my bedroom or in yours.  Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Yours," she said.  "I would like to change.  James, do you like me?"

He lowered his eyes and breathed out noticeably.  For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer her or would say that he didn't.

"I have loved you from afar for a long time. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you ... I could walk through my garden forever.  Alfred, Lord Tennyson said that, and I have known that I loved you ever since the first day I laid eyes on you.  When I return, we'll have a house with a garden full of flowers.  It won't make up for the years I was too afraid to say anything, but I will say it now.  I love you, Lucy.  Now and forever, you will be in my heart."

Nothing else mattered after those words were spoken.  The kiss they shared at this moment was more intense and passionate than she had ever imagined a kiss could be.  To be wanted so much by a man, and to want him in return was the most wonderful feeling in the world.  Right now, this was their world, and they would live by their decisions.

💞 💞

June 1945

The taxi driver wouldn't take the money that Captain Barnes offered to him when he pulled up in front of the Brooklyn apartment building.  He saw the medals on the officer's uniform, then noticed the folded up left sleeve of the man's jacket.  This was a war hero, a man who lost an arm for his country, a man who made it back alive.  Today, he rode free.  With a slight smile, Barnes got out of the taxi, reaching in for his duffle bag and grasping the strap with his right hand.  As he stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the brick building that he hadn't seen in two years he wondered if Lucy would forgive him for not telling her what happened.  Might as well get it over with.

The elevator ride was slow, but it gave him time to think about all that had happened since their quick marriage, and separation after he left.  It was only six weeks into basic training that Lucy wrote him about being pregnant.  She turned the second bedroom into a nursery, selling his mother's bedroom suite, on his insistence, to pay for the baby furniture they needed.  Her letters had been filled with love and longing for the day when they would be reunited. 

When he lost his arm, just days before Germany's surrender, he couldn't bring himself to tell her.  It was hard to admit that he felt less a man than he did before.  He wasn't sure he could return to being a school principal.  Would staff and students still respect him without his arm?  Then the day came when he got his orders to report to a hospital ship returning to New York.  His stump wound was healing well so he didn't need much medical care on the trip back.  An army doctor on board told him that as a veteran he could get an artificial arm fitted, admitting they weren't the most friendly looking things, using hooks to replace a lost hand, but gave him a card for a special foundation, funded by the billionaire Howard Stark.  He was developing a new type of prosthetic for amputees and wanted men willing to try his prototypes out.  It was worth exploring.

The elevator stopped and the door opened.  Grasping his duffle bag again, Barnes walked to the door of his apartment and placed the bag on the floor, then tentatively knocked on the door.  He could hear Lucy's footsteps approaching, his heart racing with an ominous sense of foreboding.  Then it opened, and there she was, looking up at him in surprise.  Her arms went around his neck, as she cried, calling his name out over and over again.  Wrapping his right arm around her, he buried his now clean-shaven face into her neck, taking in the smell of her perfume and the softness of her hair and skin.  Then their lips met, deliriously tasting and sensing that which they had both missed since they said goodbye.  Her hands went to his arms, and it was then she noticed, as she looked from where his left arm should have been to his face and back again.

"Your arm ... you lost it."  It was said as a statement of fact.  He nodded, prepared to explain.  "Oh, my darling, my love.  If that was the price to bring you back to me then that's how it is.  For you are back, aren't you?  You are still mine?  Still my James?"

"Now and forever," he answered, almost ready to cry in relief.  He took in all of her, her face, her hair, her lips, her hands that he brought to his own lips to kiss.  "I'm home and I'm never going to war again."

She caressed his face, then kissed him again, a sweet and gentle peck that was just as loving as the passionate one shared moments earlier.  Stepping back into the apartment as he picked up his bag, she waited for him to drop it off inside the door, then he took his cap off, placing it on a side table.  Leading him into the living room where a playpen held his son, James Barnes Jr., she dropped his hand.  The toddler raised his arms to Lucy, and she scooped him up.

"JJ, this is your daddy," she said.  "Daddy's home from the war.  Can you say hi and give him a kiss?"

The little boy's attention was taken by the medals on his father's uniform, reaching for them with his chubby hands.  Holding his right arm out, Bucky held him firmly on his hip, looking at the blue eyes, and Lucy's hair on this beautiful child, his child, conceived on a wintry night when a lonely man and woman, who thought life had passed them by, decided to seize the day and reach for happiness together.  His lips trembled and his eyes watered.  He had never been so happy, as he was right this moment.  What would the future bring?  Whatever they willed it.

One shots masterlist

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

you’re pretty. real pretty.

anne-louise short-circuited. first, she froze, mouth hanging open slightly. then, the blush already on her face from her previous embarrassment deepened to a hot, scarlet red, and crawled up from her neck to the apples of her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. a hesitant smile flickered over her face, almost as if she was glitching in real time. she never took compliments well. she’d hate to sound conceited, as she never thought of herself as pretty despite fitting into the conventional beauty standard, but she was used to drunk customers commenting on her appearance in a sometimes sweet, but usually crude way, or if they were trying to butter her up after she cut them off for the night. a part of her, deep within, was still that awkward girl in middle school, despite being halfway through her thirties. little annie-lou had suffered through her classmates calling her weird and ugly. she suffered through boys pretending to ask her out, just to laugh in her face when she said yes, or mean girls in school handing her a note that they said came from her crush of the month, but in reality said crush had no idea what she was talking about after approaching them and often got offended that the weird girl with two moms would dare to think they’d like her.

so, yes, she had some scars that had yet to fully heal. that left her sputtering when someone complimented her in any other capacity beyond ‘wow, your style is so cool and witchy!’ or ‘i love that stitchwork, can you show me how you did that?’ when it came to compliments on her looks, she had no idea what to say or do. but then they laughed! briefly, anne-louise bristled again. flashbacks of middle school trauma poisoned her mind and if he hadn’t explained himself just a second later, she might have burst into tears. “now i know you’re lying, because not a soul in this world thinks i could kick anyone’s ass.” anne-louise settled on a joke, though she wasn’t really kidding. “but, uh… thank you.” she finally accepted the compliment, deciding to trust that it wasn’t a prank. she couldn’t let the comment go without thanking them, at the very least. she was too polite for that.

“o–okay.” confused on why he wanted her to join him outside, anne-louise followed them anyway. it was a slow night, and she’d be able to see anyone coming in off the street through the window. on the weekdays, no one really came to o’shea’s unless they were regulars, so they’d know just to wait for her to come back in to take their drink. she hoped, at least. if someone came in and stole a bottle of liquor from behind the bar, she doubted she’d be able to escape a lecture from leon by invoking his uncle’s name. david, the former owner, would be pissed at her, too, if that happened; usually, he'd let her get away with murder, but not theft. that was the problem with anxiety—she ran through several different horrible scenarios in between the time it took to walk around the bar and head outside. she wrapped a strand of hair around her left index finger, using the other hand to daintily shake his own once they made it outside the building. “almost! it’s anne-louise.” an incredibly long name, it came from her moms being unable to pick between their respective choices for their daughter. in the end, they combined the two and cursed her with having to constantly spell it. “most people call me annie-lou, though.” or sometimes just annie, but never just lou. “nice to meet you, leo.” she tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of burning nicotine.

If Leo could declare they were knowledgeable in any category, he would be able to boast over his emotional intelligence. Though he tended to discredit his own feelings, snubbing his nose at them and waving them off without so much as a second glance, he could read others well. Most of the time - there were categories he would always be clueless in, merely because societal norms when it came to relationships still boggled his mind. But he could pick up on the little things, and a small grin appeared on his face as he watched Anne-Louise go through every emotion in the ‘surprised’ tier before finally settling on embarrassment. Which Leo didn’t really understand - embarrassment confounded him, and she had nothing to fuss over. Never when it came to him. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still endeared all the same, though, still leaning in close into her space, but properly taking in her features this time. They were pleasing, to say the least.

“You’re pretty. Real pretty.” He pressed, something as simplistic as pretty feeling improper, but it was his usual go to. Despite what someone might perceive about Leo, descriptors like beautiful and sexy always made him want to roll his eyes. They felt like if a word could be a try hard - the compliment was always real when he said pretty. It felt like the most truthful word that didn’t need to be dressed up. It just was. And she was pretty. Realising he’d sounded a bit surprised, like he’d originally expected an ogre as he came closer, Leo let out a sudden snort of laughter, stumbling to explain himself. “I sounded like an asshole. I just meant - when you blushed, it was kinda adorable. Don’t kick my ass, you look like you’d kick my ass if I said the wrong thing. It’s meant to be a compliment, I swear.”

It didn’t shock him that she didn’t smoke, but he was pleasantly surprised when she took up his offer to join him. He half expected to be shooed off by now, like a mosquito that wouldn’t stop droning in your ear, but if she was going to continue entertaining him, Leo wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Course I want you to join me.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Eagerly waiting for her to come around the bar top, opening the door and everything as they stepped outside - though he had the temperament of the Tasmanian Devil, Leo still thought himself a gentleman. Occasionally. “Don’t kill me,” Because all the best sentences started that way, “but… Annie? Anna? I know I’ve heard it before - wait, don’t tell me! It’s Annie, final answer.” In his excitement, Leo’s accent drawled out, thick as molasses. “Leo,” he introduced next, shoving his lighter into his pocket after igniting a cigarette, and holding his hand out for her to shake. “Enchante.”

[wernerherzogs]

train wasn't delayed more than usual AND i got a pretty girl's luggage off the train for her... 10/10 polish railway experience

[zeb-z]

I am absolutely positively losing it at how Bo Katan drops the ball so hard. I was prepared for her to be more of an obstacle in the face of Din having the Darksaber, for her to be petty and reluctant to give up any form of leadership she has having gathered the Mandalorians - but she really sat on that throne and gave us nothing.

It’s so Bo Katan to be such a disappointment. To go against what she claims her morals to be. If she really wanted the Mandalorian people to be reunited, for Mandalore to be reclaimed, she wouldn’t have just given up upon not getting the Darksaber. She wouldn’t be turning away anyone who still wants to join the cause of reclaiming their planet. She wouldn’t have given up at such a roadblock if she had really cared for her people and her culture.

Bo tells Din to retake Mandalore and lead them himself, as if there’s no greater joke. Wave that thing around, they’ll do whatever you say. And when he asks if she’s given up, she lashes out. Sits there and says his people gave up long before the purge, how his cult fractured their people, how his beliefs are a joke. How he’s a fool to go to a planet that’s so destroyed it’s hopeless, and he calls her out. I thought you said the curse was a lie, make up your mind.

She only uses ‘our’ when she says ‘our people’ to continue to insult him, accuse him of what she’s done before, what she’s doing now - failing their people. Scattering the Mandalorians. She picks and chooses what traditions and cultures of her people to take to heart based on convenience. She’s not loyal to her people but to her own ideals and power.

This is why Din Djarin has always been and always will be a better leader and representation of the Mandalorians. The way he follows has always been about protecting his clan and himself, but when his tradition is put against saving his child, he saves his child and would do so over and over again. Yet he still wants to atone because the respect of his people is important to him. Versus Bo Katan, who does not care enough about her people to even consider trying to bring them together without being the ruler of them all, to try and keep her people alive even if it means rethinking tradition.

To her, ruling has never been about the people of Mandalore. It has never been about reuniting their people who survived a cultural and a literal genocide. Ever since her days in Death Watch, it has never been about truly leading her people into something better. It has always been about her pride. It has always been about being right.

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[onrainynights]

I'm about to be so annoying btw