#it's like this horror thing. like a car crash you can't look away from

[boyapologist]

tomorrow is 9/11 which would be a great day to overfixate on found footage of it if I hadn't done this already through the entire year oooops

[letaliabane]

Trip Up - Valet!SimonRiley and Maid!Reader

The abbey was on alert today. A telegram from the Lord Price's sister stating she would be visiting along with members of the Crawley family who had moved into the village.

This included the new heir to Downton Abbey Matthew Crawley, John's third cousin, who was rumored to marry Lady Mary, John's oldest daughter.

'I can't stand the thought of my only purpose being to marry. To be thrown at every heir to Downton so that the money stays in the family,' Mary said in frustration, putting on her earrings as you did her hair, 'All I want is to be chosen for me any only that.'

You nodded, putting the last of the beaded pins in her hair. She had chosen a lavender skirt with a cream blouse for the day, finished with a simple cardigan.

'It just feels so belittling. What do you think Y/N?' She asked, looking thoughtfully at you through the mirror.

You gave her a gentle smile, 'I agree m'lady. If it were my choice, I would indeed marry for love. It's more important than most things.'

'And of course position. I could never forget that! This new heir is apparently quite middle class and I just won't have that!'

You couldn't help but sigh at her words.

Mary was a kind young and beautiful lady, but at times had a cold heart and hard exterior to protect it, which included a cruel nature to those she despised.

'How is that new valet doing? Mr Riley wasn't it?'

'Oh, he's quite settled in m'lady, now that it has been a few months,' You said as you moved around the room, clearing and folding clothes away to where they belonged, 'I think he's still shaken the staff up but much better than it was previously.'

Mary tapped her perfume to her wrists, saying, 'Thank goodness, I felt terrible for Papa. He talks about Mr Riley like a dear old friend, it would be a shame if he doesn't feel welcome here, even as a valet.'

'Agreed, now I should probably head down. Will that be all m'lady?'

'Yes, thank you Y/N.'

You made your way down to the servants hall, putting away anything that needed cleaning from the daughter's rooms. Before too long, the staff were rounded up at the stairs, Mr Garrick doing final inspections of uniforms before we went up to meet our guests.

'We should go out to greet them all, now be on your best behavior. I'll have nothing less!' Mr Garrick said, the younger staff nodding nervously while others remained silent.

'Remember to not go running off William, I'll need your help with the bags,' Graves muttered to the youngest and newest of the footmen.

Mr Riley who was standing at the base of the stairs turned to him. 'I'm happy to assist you if needed.'

'No need! Don't more mistakes do we Mr Riley?' Graves was quick to quip back. You couldn't help but shake your head, following the other maids up the stairs.

The staff were lined up at the front of the incredibly beautiful house as the cars rolled in one by one through the gates, coming to a halt just in front of the tall double doors.

Lord John pushed forward first, her Ladyship Liliana close behind him to also greet Matthew. From the look of him, he looked like a kind man. Young, blond and blue-eyed just like his mother, Isobel, who followed close behind him. Older, a little grey-haired, but back straight with a smile.

The daughters greeted their aunts happily, while awkwardly greeting the newcomers. After brief chatter was shared amongst the family, they began to move into the house slowly.

Suddenly a scuffle erupted, the maids gasping as your eyes turned to see Mr Riley crash hard onto the pebbled ground, stones flying about messily and, to your horror, his mask.

You glanced up and saw Graves, an ugly smirk on his face as he looked down on the valet, his foot strangely kicked out in place before walking towards the back entrance.

'Riley, are you alright?'

You looked to see John coming to his side, grabbing the mask from the ground and handing it to him. The rest of the family watched on in shock.

'I am my lord, my apologies,' You heard Mr Riley grumble, keeping his face down as he placed his mask back on properly.

When his lordship had turned back to usher his family inside, Johnny, who stood tall at the door awaiting their entry, gave you a nod which you returned.

As the staff quickly dispersed, you went to Mr Riley's side, gently pressing a hand to his shoulder.

'Here, let me help you, Mr Riley,' You quietly said, grabbing his arm and slowly assisting him until he was steadily back on his feet.

You shook off the pebbles and dust caught onto his suit jacket and pants. 'There, much better–'

'Don't!' He suddenly snapped, slapping your hand away.

You gasped, taking a step away. Though his face was covered, there was a deep anger in Mr Riley's eyes that you had never seen before. It almost frightened you.

Mr Riley froze, taking in your change of demeanour. With a sigh, he uttered so quietly you almost missed it, 'Please don't pity me Miss ... I don't need it.'

He pushed past you roughly, his loud footsteps quickly becoming distant against the pebbled walkway as he left you behind.

The day continued as usual except, you noticed very quickly, the distinct absence of Mr Riley for the rest of the day. You had overheard Mr Garrick say he had taken poorly and couldn't continue to work.

Like bees that had caught the honey, the staff buzzed excitedly with the sudden gossip of his possible resignation or firing. Though the staff had calmed down since his arrival, it didn't change their stance that he didn't deserve the job.

It made you furious. Why should a man who had been at the house for a few months be let go just because of a small mishap? Something that wasn't even his fault. Nothing even happened!

Soon drinks for the family were complete after their meal, and dinner was being served in the servant's hall, but there was still no sign of Mr Riley.

After nibbling at your meal and failing to work up an appetite yourself, you found a tray and dished up some stew and some hot bread that had been served.

'What are you doing love?' You looked up to see Mrs Patmore enter the kitchens, clearly having finished her dinner.

'Oh, I was just making up a plate for Mr Riley, him not being well enough to join us. You won't mind Ms Laswell?' You addressed the head housekeeper who had appeared behind Mrs Patmore.

She nodded with a smile, 'Of course, just this once. The poor man has been through enough in one day.'

With a nod, you finished piling up the tray before making your way carefully through the corridors of the attics where the servants lived in and at end of the corridor, a light shone from beneath a door.

Making your way over, you peeked into the room. Through the mirror that hung on the cupboard, you could see sitting on the bed there sat the shaking silhouette of Mr Riley, and in the quiet, the soft sobbing emitted from him.

You couldn't help but feel your heart break at the site. Taking a step back, you cleared your throat. 'Mr Riley? Are you there?'

A shuffle was heard from within the room, footsteps approaching before the door opened to reveal Mr Riley. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair dishevelled and his shoulders tense.

You gave him a reassuring smile. 'I brought some dinner up, in case you were hungry.'

Immediately he deflated at the sight of you, eyes softened as he took in the tray of food neatly placed. 'That's very kind Miss. Even after what I did to you earlier ... you are still so generous.'

'It's nothing really,' You placed the tray in his hands which he placed off to the side, looking back to you.

'But it's the very opposite of nothing. I-I really am sorry for this morning, that was very unkind of me Miss.'

'No need for apologies Mr Riley,' You said, trying to keep your voice steady, 'You've been wronged since you arrived here and I hate to see you like this. Please don't let them drag you down. You are so much stronger than they are.'

He sighed heavily, eyes shying away from yours, leaning against the door frame. 'I hate to admit it ... it's very humiliating. Couldn't stomach any more of it.'

You shook your head firmly, stepping closer to him. 'You shouldn't be made to feel that way. Be proud of being here, John–I mean ... Lord Price chose you to be here for a reason. You've earned your place and you shouldn't have to hide or be ashamed.'

Mr Riley looked down at you, his eyes finally meeting yours and scanning your face. He clearly could see the tears in your eyes and heard the tremble in your voice.

'Why do you do this Miss?'

You were stunned, almost at a loss for words. Couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes, a thousand words and emotions even in silence. So instead, stepping even closer, chest to chest with him, you carefully reached for his hand. You felt him stiffen beneath your gentle touch momentarily before he allowed you to clasp your hands with his.

'You don't deserve to be treated as such. I don't like to see it,' You said, looking up into his eyes.

Not wanting to encroach on him any longer, you slowly pulled away, unable to hold back a small smile when you felt Mr Riley hold tight to your hand just a little longer before letting it drop from his grip. 

The next morning the servant's hall was busy with the staff filing in, breakfast of hot porridge with honey and buttered toast was served by Daisy and Mrs Patmore.

As Mr Garrick sat down, allowing everyone else to follow suit, Mr Riley appeared at the entrance to the hall and you couldn't help but smile, ignoring the scowl of some of the other staff.

'Ah, Mr Riley!' Ms Laswell greeted as she passed on bowls of porridge down the table, 'Good to see you up and about!'

'Indeed Ms Laswell, can't keep me down too long,' He muttered, looking straight at you as he did.

'That's good to hear, come and get yourself some breakfast we have a busy day ahead of ourselves!'

He nodded, making his way around the table and taking a seat beside you. And as a bowl of porridge was placed in front of you, you felt the fleeting caress of his gloved hand across your own beneath the table.

Call of Duty Masterlist a/n: I'm on a roll I tell you! And I love writing for these two.

@lostintransist @teapartydreams

[yanderefarm]

yandere prisoner x final boy reader

cw; gore, suggestive, implied violence towards reader, violence, knives, prison

here is his story.... name still undecided but!!! its him.

the forest branches are long and winding, like hands reaching out to grab and their twigs like claws scratching at your skin as you run through them. you hear the sound of manic laughter coming from too close behind you, the sound echoing like thunder pounding in your ears. your legs are going to give out soon. closer. you see a flash of green. closer. your foot hits a tree root and your body crashes through the stinging branches leaving a thousand scratches on your skin. you try to tuck into yourself as you hit the concrete but it's too much, everything hurts and you can't bring your legs to move anymore. closer. you see those grey eyes filled with vitriol. flash of red. flash of blue. red. blue. red. blue. a ringing like a siren is getting closer, louder. the weight of his body sinks onto your chest. that long slimy tongue drags up against your cheek.

your eyes shoot open and you're miles away from that cabin again. your cat has made itself comfortable on your chest and is licking your nose trying to wake you up while your alarm clock rings through the room. you feel bad as you shove your cat off your chest but you just can't breathe. finally able to take a deep breath you sit up. its not unusual for you to have nightmares about that night but ever since his release was announced it's been more and more frequent, a constant reminder of what you have to do. and today is the day of release.

outside of the prison is dozens of news reporters, people trying to get your opinion on this by shoving microphones in your face. you're unfortunately used to it and you just push them out of your face. the only thing that matters is that you get him today. the heavy metal gates open for you, they allow you into the belly of the beast again. you can't help but shake as you're led into the prison by guards who know what horror awaits you.

in the room you've met him a dozen times he sits with a small pile of belongings. his lips pull into a wide smile as soon as those grey eyes land on you. you can see his sharp canines and then his absurdly long tongue lick his lips like a hungry wolf. he thinks he's gotten his precious little bunny rabbit but you won't let yourself become another meal for this voracious predator.

you two have a short meaningless conversation before you're ready to leave with him. honestly it feels like everything is on autopilot as you guide him back out of the prison towards your car. he stops to talk to the reporters, to imply he's going to spend the night with you but your eyes glaze over to his taunts. you know he's thinking about all the letters he sent you over the years, you know he's dreaming about the torture he's going to inflict as soon as you two are alone. he won't get the chance.

he continues to make vaguely threatening perverse comments to you as you two enter the car. apparently he didn't expect his bunny rabbit to fight back. the needle sinks into his shoulder and within minutes he's passed out.

when he wakes up? he's in an all too familiar looking cabin. he's tied with the strongest chains you could find to the ground.

"do you remember this place...?" you ask when you notice him looking around.

"this isn't where we met." he says it confidently and he's not wrong.

"the one we met in was demolished. all of them were supposed to be. i managed to buy this one before they could destroy it."

"you're sooo romantic~"

you slam a familiar looking knife into the table. "do you know why this one is significant?"

"mmmm lemme guess... was someone you loved in here? or maybe you were supposed to stay in this one?"

".... you gutted my boyfriend and my best friend and you mutilated them so badly the coroner couldn't tell where one began and the other ended."

"oopsie~"

you let him get the better of you and you slap him hard across the cheek. he moans at the pain as a red and handprint starts to form.

"i remember how they felt... i remember the warmth. i remember that little roommate of yours was still alive while i fucked her guts."

he was provoking you to hit him again, the same way he provoked you in the prison. but now... you had the power. you walked away from him to grab the knife from the table.

"you liked that didn't you? you like being a disgusting monster, right?" you ran the knife down his chest and he shuddered. "then you'll like it if i show you how it feels to be used as a toy right?"

he didn't need to speak, you could see his tongue running against his lips. some of his drool even dripped down his now exposed chest. he wasn't going to enjoy this for long but you would.

[weministertomonsters]

Incubus

"Please? Please, please! I'm fucking starving," your incubus whines.

"Crybaby. I told you this was going to be a problem," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel of your rented car.

You had stopped at a gas station ten minutes ago and gotten yourself some food. With your belly full, you're prepared for the next three hours of your roadtrip. Not your incubus though, he's acting like he hasn't had anything in days.

Which might be true. It's been a confusing couple of weeks.

"What was I supposed to do? This is a six-hour road trip," he sighs. "And you said you'd let me."

"Dude, I was drunk and horny," you laugh sheepishly.

He petulantly jams his foot against the glove compartment and tugs his shoe off. The unnatural purple veins in his skin are starting to make an appearance as his glamour wavers.

"Ah, get your demon foot down! What if someone sees it?"

"When was the last time we passed another car on this god-forsaken road?" He pouts. "Besides, my glamour is slipping. I don't have enough energy to keep it up."

"Why don't you sleep the rest of the way? We'll be there soon enough," you reason.

"Fine," he grumbles, tipping his seat back so he can recline comfortably.

Despite all his huffing and whining, he ends up falling asleep. He has one hand draped over his face, sheilding his eyes from the sun. His glamour is in the halfway stage, revealing pointed ears and a body that's now a little too large for the car seat. He twitches in his sleep and moans.

"God no," you mumble in mock horror and stifle a giggle.

The sounds he makes in his sleep are worthy of a porn audio and you feel like you shouldn't be listening. Still, that kind of thing doesn't bother you as much as it did weeks go. You've come a long way. The ride is manageable for a while, until his wings suddenly unfurl like a rebellious umbrella and thwack you in the face. You're forced to pull over.

"Wake up, idiot. You almost made me crash the car." You grab his shoulder and jangle it.

He wakes up with an inhuman growl and grabs you. There isn't much space for either of you to move, so all he ends up doing is pulling you into his lap. Tears spring into your eyes when you hit your elbow on the car door.

"You did that on purpose!" You moan, rubbing the tender spot.

"You can't just touch me when I'm sleeping," he says in exasperation, peering at you with blackened eyes.

He's right. This isn't the first time you've tried to wake him up and he ended up freaking out. It's obvious something happened to him in the past to make him act that way, but he wouldn't let you pry.

"Sorry, I forgot," you admit. "You were moaning in your sleep."

"Was I?" His eyes twinkle. "Look at you, getting all flustered. Hey, don't look away."

To change the subject you say,

"Your glamour is gone."

"It appears so." He flares his wings out as wide as he can, wincing. "I miss flying."

"Soon you'll be able to fly again," you promise, your heart going out to him.

Even though summoning him was an accident, you could have done so much more to make the experience a little less weird for him. You treated him like a literal demon thanks to your religious upbringing. Only when you realized that holy water and crosses and exorcisms were no good did you start to treat him with a modicum of respect. And he endured all of it for you. You've gotten better with your hellish companion since then.

Someone takes the initiative to kiss, but you're not sure whether it was him or you. All you know is that the wall you've built has come crashing down, and all the secret desires you hid away come clamoring forward, demanding attention.

You can't get out of your clothes fast enough, growling in annoyance when you hit your elbow again. You should have rented a bigger car.

"Hold on," he says, ripping his face away.

His lips are swollen and bruised from the heavy makeout session and his pupils are ridiculously dilated, but he still looks aware and a little worried.

"An hour ago you were denying me. Why now..."

"Don't ruin the mood," you tell him, wiggling into the backseat. "I just realized all my little rules are pretty stupid, that's all."

He twists around to look at you in the back.

"You won't regret it later?"

"I will if you made me take all my clothes off only to say you don't want to do it anymore," you say, leaning back and opening your legs. "Come here."

His eyes light up. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. The last of his glamour sheds, and you stare at his ebony-colored horns in admiration. Just a few weeks ago the mere sight of them had you stammering the Lord's Prayer and dousing him with anointing oil in an effort to make him go away. Now you grab one of his horns and drag him closer. The small car means you are both in pretty uncomfortable positions, but you'll complain about your back later.

His licks a blazing trail down your stomach, the purr in his voice muffled as he presses his lips to your body, tracing the red lines where your too-tight jeans aggravated your skin.

"I love this."

"My muffin top?" You snicker.

"All of it. All of you. Goddess," he says reverently before he dips between your legs.

His long, slippery tongue is talented. As he stokes your pleasure higher and hotter, he drinks from the blaze of it. Once he has enough energy to use his glamour again, he glamours his claws away and slides two fingers into you, looking up at you with gleaming, burning eyes.

The way his wings arch makes you think of an eagle protecting its dinner. You dare to touch them, stroking the struts of bone and the delicate membrane stretched between them.

"You're so beautiful," you admit. "And I'm not just saying that because you're so good at this."

He looks amused with the compliment. Maybe he's remembering the time you called him a "vulgar hellion of hell" in a fit of religious indignation.

You jump at the sudden zing of pleasure when he nips your inner thigh.

"Focus on me," he demands. "Let your mind go blank for just a little while."

You nod frantically, clutching the sturdy leather of the car seat. Your hips follow the thrusting motion of his fingers, desperate for more. He gives you what you want. You come when he adds a third finger, the stretch, and the pleasure and the stimulation of your clit throwing you recklessly off a cliff. It feels like he takes some of your energy, crafts it into a gem of pure gold, and passes it back to you in a hard kiss. It's like you've died and gone to heaven.

It's only when he taps your stomach that you remember you have to breathe. You suck in great gasps of air, squinting at him. He wears your cum on his face, his lips glistening as they part into a pretty smile.

"What was that?" You finally ask.

"The best orgasm of your life," he grins. "Please tell me I've ruined you for other people."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoff playfully as you tug your clothes back on.

You think he has though.

[penumbralbeast]

Okay maybe I'm in the minority here but something I'm seeing in the Warframe community here on Tumblr that's frustrating.

I'm begging people to please develop some emotional maturity and learn how to regulate themselves when they engage with potentially triggering content, and furthermore: expect there to be triggering content when you PLAY A GAME ABOUT ORPHANED CHILD SOLDIERS CONTROLLING BIOMECHANICAL SUPER SOLDIERS who literally used to be people.

You can't fucking waltz into a petting zoo for snakes, and get upset when they offer you a snake to pet, knowing full well you're afraid of snakes.

I am begging people to please have the emotional intelligence to look at a game that routinely features storylines about trauma, abuse, war, injury, death, motherhood, child abuse, ect, and anticipate that it may, *without warning*, containt content that is potentially triggering. You have to expect this. You have to. You have to be prepared for this eventuality.

I'm so fucking grateful that DE's been good about trigger warnings on major quests like New War, and Jade Shadows, but DE should NOT have to hold your hand and shield you from all the big bad scary things that happen in the world.

Like, goddamn I'm immensely sorry that whatever happened to put you in this state happened at all, but you're in for a very long, very rough, very painful life if you expect every piece of content you consume to do this.

Warframe is a dark game. It has body horror. It has torture. It has abuse. It has maternal trauma. You have to expect a game with those topics/themes, to contain them in every fiber of its being.

If you've played thru til 1999, Then you've played every other major quest that contains some pretty dark/truamatizing content. Umbra being forced to murder his own son after being turned into a Warframe. The Operator being forced to kill their own parents or be eaten alive/ripped apart. Lotus' battle with her desire for motherhood, Ballas' attempt to use the Veil to gaslight and emotionally manipulate the Operator, so so so so much more. You've been down this road. You should know what to expect.

And if you're playing 1999 and find you're getting triggered/stressed by the things that the Hex are saying because 'there's no trigger warning!' then please just. don't engage with the system. just do the syndicate levels, and play enough until you're 'Liked' if you want to do the finale. You don't need to do anything else. You don't even need to use the KIM system. You can build friendship through Bounties, and gifting. You have to level up the syndicate anyways just to get to 'Liked' which is required for the Finale.

You don't have to romance them. You don't have to flirt. You don't have to get to the point where Eleanor talks about her traumatic car crash, or where Arthur talks about the teddy bear he took out of a bombed out child's room. You don't.

And if you do want to continue the conversation, its entirely your responsibility to choose the dialogue options that steer away from triggering content.

I DO personally wish the dialogue system played into our alignment status but that's neither here nor there.

That said, I'm begging people to please find better ways to engage with content than being offended when they rent 'Murder Clowns 7' and its a movie about murderous clowns. Please. There's an expectation of intelligence here and so many people are proving that they lack that.

Love you all, stay safe. And be smart.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Unstitch the pieces of me, please (and tear this curse apart)

Day 3 of The Long Halloween - event masterlist here

pairing: conner kent x reader, background/implied tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 6.1k

genre: horror, fluff sort of, hurt/comfort

warnings: frankenstein's monster conner, frankenstein tim, undead/zombie reader, lots of talk of life, death, and the meaning of it all, some body horror with conner but just a lil bit, I made timmy a lil mean I'm sorry

a/n: we can't even talk abt the order I'm releasing these fics in lmao and this was not supposed to be a timmy fic but I couldn't help myself

The first thing that hits Kon when he steps outside for the first time is the cold. The air of Gotham is biting and crisp, especially at night when the fog sets in and makes his swirling puffs of breath damp. 

Then, it's the noise. Cars swerving and honking, people laughing or shouting, Tim muttering and tinkering somewhere inside the laboratory still. The ocean crashes somewhere distantly and Kon remembers being told by Tim at one point that the harbour is nearby.

The sight, then, is what really knocks his breath away. Towering, looming buildings that inch toward the impossible sky and shroud the city in shadow. Winding, twisting streets that seem to stretch endlessly in every direction. Cracked sidewalks and crumbling roads that could take him… anywhere, he thinks. Kon takes a step outside, moving past the threshold of the lab for the first time in his life. When he glances behind him, Tim's got his back turned and is thoroughly enamoured by whatever he's doing. He could leave, Kon thinks. Right now, right now, right now.

But then there's you, strolling down the street and looking at him like he's been caught.

"What are you doing out here, Kon?" you say quietly, not quite chastising, but wary nonetheless. He looks at you and frowns while you stand in front of him and block out the view of the city behind you. 

"I was just looking," he says with a huff, his voice scratchy and unused, his words thick as he forms them. He cranes his head to look past you out toward the freedom of the city and you cock your head to the side to follow his movement. 

"Mhm," you respond, disbelief clear in your voice. "Come inside with me, Kon. Come on, we'll talk about it." You brush past him, then, moving to duck under his patchwork arm where it grips onto the door frame so that you can slip inside. He hears you say some sort of greeting to Tim and he listens for a response that he knows will never come. 

You've left him there, standing a single step away from the outside world. A bitterness begins to swirl in Kon's gut when he thinks that you must have done it because you're so sure that he'll follow, that he'll never step out of line.

But then he glances back into the lab and sees you sitting on one of the tables, letting your legs swing back and forth as you watch him.

But maybe, he thinks as he loosens his grip on the doorframe, letting the door shut closed gently as he retreats back into the safety of the lab. Maybe you just trust him to make his own choice.

"You should stay in here, Kon," you say gently when he walks toward you and plants himself in front of you, close enough that your knees brush against him as he crosses his arms and scowls. "It's safer for you in here."

"You get to leave whenever you want," Kon counters. Tim sighs and scowls at the noise from somewhere behind you, but he goes ignored by both of you. 

"That's different," you offer kindly. "You know it is. I'm not the only zombie in Gotham City. I know how to keep myself hidden out there. Plus…" You trail off then, glancing back at Tim before giving Kon a sympathetic look.

"I know," Kon snaps at you, but his glare is directed at Tim. "You don't belong to him. I do." You sigh heavily at his words, reaching to brush a comforting knuckle across Kon's cheek as his jaw clenches.

When you'd met Tim all those years ago, he'd been nothing more than a mad scientist who was desperately obsessed with controlling life. He'd wanted to own it, wanted to be its master and be able to bring the dead to life. From what you'd gathered, he was from one of the manor houses outside of the city centre, and his rich, neglectful parents had left him with more money than morals and unlimited access to whatever unnatural experimentation he'd like to involve himself in. 

Stumbling across you had been a gift to Tim - you were undead, a zombie. You were the perfect subject for Tim to study. You were the ultimate success case. You were the dead thing that had come back to life, the unholy relic that had crawled out of your own grave and was cursed to wander the streets of Gotham, restless and ghostly. 

So Tim has studied you. You hadn't loved it, of course - you hadn't wanted to be involved in something so awful, really. But you'd been lost and alone and in need of some sort of protection, some sort of soft landing place to curl up in when the sun came up and it was harder to hide. So you'd let him. He'd poked and prodded and pulled and pushed, desperate because he knew that you would be the key to his understanding of how to bring back the dead. He worked and worked and worked until he'd finally done it.

He'd created Kon. He'd sewed together a life from beyond the grave. 

"You don't…" you start, searching for the words as Kon stares at Tim with an anguished sort of scowl. "It's not that you belong to him, Kon, it's just… it's not safe out there."

"I know, I know," Kon sighs, but you continue.

"Tim will take care of you in here. He'll… he'll make sure you're ok."

"No, he won't," he snaps, and you let your shoulders slump as you glance back toward Tim because you know that he's mostly right. Ever the mad scientist, as soon as Tim had perfected Kon, he'd moved on to the next project. He really doesn't care about what's going on behind him - he only cares about what's going on ahead of him.

During the experiments, of course, Tim had kept such a watchful eye on Kon and had never let him out of his sight - and he certainly never let him out of the laboratory. But now… You and Kon are largely ignored by him these days, free to wander and stumble to your heart's content. If only Tim had given his monster a heart that would really beat, Kon thinks hopelessly as he rubs at his own chest. 

"You just… you don't know what you're doing out there, Kon," you say gently, flinching a bit at the pained look that he gives you when you say it. "You need to be where someone can look out for you."

"Why not you, then?" Kon says quickly, making you straighten as your brows shoot up. "Tim, he… he won't care. He doesn't care anymore. You can… you can take me out of here. You can help me." You hum thoughtfully at his words, chewing your lip as you look up at him. He's right, sure. Tim doesn't care. He's created this monster who stands before you, living and breathing and feeling for the first time, and he's left him spiralling alone through it all. 

There is a part of you, too, that feels the weight of this responsibility. You hadn't really wanted to help, sure, and it makes your stomach twist just a bit when you think about it all. But you had been involved, and now Kon is here in front of you, begging to have a chance to be alive. 

"Ok, Kon, alright," you concede, patting his chest with one hand as you glance back toward Tim. "I'll… I'll help, you ok? I'll make sure you know how to live."

And so it begins, this newfound bond that the two of you have. You go back and forth for months like that, watching Kon step outside, step forward, grow and become in ways that he didn't know he ever could.

You're sitting with him at the docks one night, both of you with your shoes off and your feet hanging off of the edge so that you can splash around in the water. The weather has really begun to turn and the frost is setting in, blanketing the city in a bitter, painful cold. But you find that it doesn't bother the two of you so much, and you can let your feet sink into the freezing water without feeling the bite of it. 

Kon is sitting next to you and staring at his hands, looking down at his rough, stitched-together palms like they belong to someone else, patches of different skin tones all tinged blue and green and yellow clashing together. And you suppose… you suppose that they must feel like they do belong to someone other than him. 

"What are you thinking about?" you murmur gently, knocking your shoulder against his.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with them," Kon mumbles back, still staring down.

"Hm? What?"

"My hands," he says flatly. "I don't know what to do with them."

"Whatever…" you falter. "You can do whatever you want with them, Kon. They're yours."

"It's odd," he continues, and the two of you watch as his fingers twitch when he flexes the muscles, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over and watching the stitches pull. "It's a little strange to have hands that move. Aren't I supposed to do something with them? Can't you… Can't you tell me what I'm supposed to do with them?"

"I'd…" you cut yourself off to laugh a little, and it's a sad, wispy sort of thing that floats through the empty fog. "I'd have to know what to do with my own, first, I think. I'm sorry." You say it honestly, like it's a great failing to be lost the way that you are now. 

"Is… is there anyone else I can ask?" You smile at Kon's words. You know he doesn't mean it to be rude; it's just that there's a sort of desperation, when you're lost like this, to find someone who isn't. 

"Well, that's the catch," you sigh. "I don't think anyone really knows. Most of living is just about deciding what to do with yourself. Some people go their whole lives without ever really knowing. I… I did." You look down at your feet when you say that, watching the way that you ripple waves out across the otherwise still water. You watch as they disappear into the fog and the darkness of night and you wonder… you wonder where those ripples will end up one day. 

"What's that?" Kon asks, and it makes you snap your head up. He's pointing across the bay and through a gap in the wall of fog. There's a sort of beacon over there, a shining light through the dark that shimmers and shines through the dead of night.

"That," you say heavily, "is Metropolis."

"Oh…" Kon hums in understanding. "Tim tells me… he - he used to talk to me about Metropolis. He said that it's completely different from Gotham. Do you think that's true?"

"Oh, it definitely is," you confirm, leaning back onto your palms as you stare at the light bouncing off of the water. 

"What, you've been there?"

"Yea, but - before," you clarify. "When I was, uh, alive. You know."

"Oh," Kon says haltingly. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright," you shrug easily. "I've always liked Gotham better."

"Why?" He wrinkles his nose. "Why would you like a place like this?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrug, laughing a bit. "I guess it just… it grows on you. It kind of traps you here, I guess. I can't imagine being anywhere else now." Kon hums in hesitant understanding at that, but he keeps his eyes trained on the little glimpse of Metropolis that he can see across the bay. When you look over to him, the lights are reflecting in his eyes in a shimmering, shining way that you'd never really seen before. 

"I want to go to Metropolis," he says abruptly. You straighten in shock.

"What? Kon, no, you can't -"

"Why not?"

"It's not safe," you stress. He just frowns, crossing his mismatched arms. 

"You said this wasn't safe either," he points out, but you just shake your head imploringly. 

"No, Kon - this is different. Gotham is… it's a safe haven for things like us. For the… the broken and the damaged and the unnatural. It's safe for the people who aren't really… people," you trail off, wincing at the stricken way that he looks at you. "Gotham is safe," you continue gently. "Metropolis isn't. If you go there… you will die, Kon."

"You don't know that for sure," he says stubbornly. You grab onto his hand and squeeze his fingers with your own, cold against cold as you sit in the frozen night.

"No, I don't, but I can make a good guess," you insist. "You have a chance here, Kon. it's… it's a better chance than either of us have out there." Kon shakes his hand from your grip, but the hurt that you feel from the action is dulled by the way he gently cups your cheeks in his palms instead and you feel the seams where his skin is connected pulling against you.

"I want to be alive," he says desperately. "I want to - I need to live. I need to try."

"What if you die trying?" you counter, your voice wavering. Kon just presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his scarred, stitched lips scratching against your cold skin.

"Then I die trying to live," he says quietly, a determination settling within him. "And isn't that… isn't that the best that I can do?"

"It is, I.." you say weakly, looking up at him with something that feels a little bit too much like hope. "It is, Kon."

It's just like that, then, that he's… gone. Gone into light, into life, away from the wretched curse of Gotham. But you stay, of course, wandering endlessly through the darkened streets, floating sort of aimlessly through the everlasting nights. You hear, day in and day out, all of the things that you'd told him. They rattle around your mind and thump through your ribcage as you stand on the wooden docks and stare out toward the impossible light and the ever-growing distance between the two of you. 

What are you doing with yourself? What are you doing with these hands of yours?

Is it not enough to just… live?

You sit there, staring into the endless night, and all that you can do is remember what it was like to live.

I'd like to see the sunset today. I'd like to count the stars tonight. I'd like to go to the art gallery tomorrow. I'd like to drink coffee and read books and dip my feet in the harbour. 

I'd like to simply live, you think, in a desperate, burning sort of way… and isn't that enough?

"You need to get a grip," Tim's voice rings out through the laboratory as he scowls at the way you sit by the window, staring out into the night. "I've just about had enough with all of this… this moping. Sulking really doesn't look good on you, you know."

"Do something about it, then," you snap, and Tim stares at you like you've said the unthinkable.

"Me?" he splutters. "You were the one who gave him all of those ideas about living and being and going to Metropolis of all places. You deal with it."

"Do something for me, then," you respond quickly, unbothered by Tim's groaning and grumbling. "Give me some money."

"I… beg your pardon?"

"Give me one of your cards. I'll - I'll go away. I just want to live, Tim. I just want to be able to live."

That's really all that it takes, thankfully. The whole ordeal really has been bothering Tim and it feels like such a small imposition to toss you one of his credit cards and gesture to the door. That's all that you need to wander out, heading to walk aimlessly through the dingy streets of Gotham.

You're free now in a way that you never were before, you realize as you climb up onto the roof of Tim's building, his credit card held between your teeth so that you can use your hands on the rickety ladder.

Not that anything would really happen if you fell, you suppose. 

But you're free, and it sort of hits you when you get to the top and can really stare out toward the water of the bay. You can see the lights of Metropolis still, although very faintly through the hazy, foggy night. You sit down cross-legged and prop your chin up in one of your palms as you look out and think of Kon.

You hope that he's safe, wherever he is out there. But more than that, you suppose… you hope that he's happy. Above all else, really, you just sort of hope and pray that he's living and doing whatever it is that he needs to to cling to that life. 

But then a short, searing sort of pain zips down your arm and you wince, rolling your shoulder as you try to massage the feeling back into your hand. You're sure you should ask Tim about it, but you haven't really been able to care much about these pains that you've started having. Random aches and abrupt bouts of agony. Numbness and tingling spreading throughout you every now and then.

It's not constant. It's not unmanageable. But it's just enough to make you aware of your body. You're sure it's fine, though. You're sure it's nothing. You're sure it's just a part of being dead, of being something that shouldn't exist and wasn't supposed to come back to life in the first place. You're sure it's nothing. 

You're sitting in the botanical gardens when autumn feels like it's really rolling through. Instead of the springy greens and yellows of the gardens, everything is bathed in reds and golds and oranges. Everything around you is bright and tingling with life… and you sit in the middle of it all, propped up on a bench like something that just shouldn't be there. 

But Kon sitting down next to you is perhaps even more jarring. 

"Kon!" you all but shout, staring at him with wide eyes. "You're - you -"

"Hi," he responds gently, flashing you a nervous little smile. "How have you been?"

"How have you been?" you splutter. "Why… why are you here? Why are you back? Are you ok? Kon, did something happen -"

"I missed you," he blurts out, and it's enough to make your mouth snap shut. "I… I missed you and I wanted to come home."

"Kon," you say, your voice cracking as your bottom lip trembles. "I don't… I don't want you to give up on your life for me."

"Well, that's just it," he laughs, and it's a watery sort of thing as he blinks dampness from his eyes. "I… want this to be my life, I think. I miss you and I - I miss Gotham."

"…What?" you say, shock colouring your voice as the cool breeze of dusk blows through. 

"I know, I know," Kon says, holding his hands up in defence. "It's awful here. There's the… I don't know, the smells and the fog and that cursed, horrible harbour and the - the stench of death that you can just never get away from. But all of that… well, I don't know, it grows on you, I guess." He looks at you, then, in an imploring sort of way as he reaches to grab onto your hand and tangle your fingers with his. "You just can't help but fall in love with it. You can't help but fall in love with this place."

"This… place?" you say slowly, a sly sort of smile flashing across your cold lips. "Just Gotham, huh?"

"Gotham," he admits, shifting in his seat as heat rises to his cheeks. "And… and the people. Some of them. One, um, one of them more than the rest." You smile, then, and Kon thinks that you're alive in a way that he thought he could never be - in a way that none of the vibrant, curling florals of the garden could dream to be. Kon thinks that it's the most human thing of all - the smile on your face and the love in your eyes. 

Maybe that's what you taught him, he thinks as he skims a knuckle across your cheek and lets his forehead rest against yours. Maybe you really do have to do it together. Maybe to live is to be with those that you love.

As Kon sits in that garden with you, as he sits in the midst of life beginning, he just wants to be with the people he loves. When you smooth a hand over his cheek and press a kiss to his cold, stitched lips, he can feel it - the way that you intertwine together, two dead hearts beating for the first time again. 

But then you pull away with a flinch, and your nose scrunches as you clench your hand into a fist and feel that static-like, burning pain shoots through you. 

"Hey," Kon says gently, gripping your face in his palms as his brows furrow, his mouth downturned and making the stitches stretch across his cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"It's… it's nothing," you shrug as the pain passes and you shake out your arm a bit. "It's nothing. My - I don't know, it just… things don't feel right sometimes is all. But it's - I mean… we're dead, right? It's never going to feel right." You try to laugh it off, just a bit, but Kon shakes his head and tightens his grip on your face.

"No," he says sternly, and there's a hint of panic growing in his voice. "No, that's - this is new, right? This didn't always happen? I need to - we need to fix this. We can't… I need to make sure you're ok."

"I am ok, Kon," you say soothingly, but he's already standing, tugging you ever so gently to your feet and ushering you out of the gardens. 

"You will be," he replies shortly. "I promise - I'll - we'll make sure of it."

"You're dying," Tim says it shortly, simply, like it's a fact that you all should've clued into by now.

"I beg your fucking pardon?" Kon snaps back. You just stare, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Tim pulls away from the microscope he'd been peering into with a heavy sigh, looking at the two of you like he's ashamed that you haven't realized the truth by now.

"You're dying," he repeats in a clipped tone. "You didn't think you'd live forever, did you? Look, I really don't have time for this -"

"You have to have time for this -" Kon snaps.

"Live forever? Tim, I'm already dead - are you alright?" you say at the same time, you and Kon stumbling over each other's words. Tim looks at you both rather imploringly.

"Oh yes," he says dryly. "The failed experiment and the thing that I can't even claim to have made. Surely I should make more time for you." That makes you both freeze - makes you look at Kon with wide, uncertain eyes.

"Failed?" he says, and his voice is small, like a timid child in trouble with their parents for the first time.

"Failed," Tim repeats. "You're… dying. You have a lifespan, Kon, the same as any living thing. I succeeded in bringing you into this life, yes, but only for a while - a long while, don't you two look at me like that." 

"Ah," you say, and a bit of understanding dawns on you. "I remember now."

"Remember what," Kon all but wails as you jump to sit up on the table next to Tim's microscope, swinging your legs and letting your feet hit his chair.

"Eternal life - that's what you were always after, wasn't it, Timmy?" Tim just scowls at you, so you continue, turning to Kon now. "It's not enough to live once. Timmy here wants to find a way to live forever. And since… well, you have a shelf life, it seems - that means he hasn't quite figured it out yet."

"The grim reaper will come back to Gotham one day and I have to be prepared," Tim begins, his voice cracking with hysteria, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye with a concerned quirk of your brow. "I'm just saying," he continues as he stares at the wall ahead of him, swaying back and forth in his chair. "If John Constantine can find a way to keep it at bay, then I must be able to beat this, I have to -"

You jump off of the table and reach for Kon, grabbing onto his arm and tugging him away as Tim continues to ramble. Kon just squeezes your hand comfortingly, though, and then reaches to shake Tim's shoulder and snap him out of whatever spiral he's in. 

"Tim - Tim," he says earnestly. "What about…" He glances back at you, then, and there's a panic swimming in his mismatched, foggy eyes that makes your heart lurch.

"Oh, well, you're dying, too," Tim says to you, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "What do you think happens when someone crawls up, out of their own grave? Did you really think you could cheat death forever?"

"Do you think that?" you snap back, but there's a sort of doom crawling up your throat now that hadn't been there before. But you know what Tim's talking about. You know what he means. 

Because you remember… you remember being alive and being hungry. More time, more life, more experiences, more, more more. 

And you remember… you remember carrying that hunger into death. You remember clawing your way out of your own grave, a desperation taking hold and urging you to scramble for more, pushing you to bring yourself back to the world for one more chance to live. 

But then Kon lunges for Tim - he grabs him by the collar of his shirt and shakes him, his patchwork knuckles paling under the strain of his grip.

"Fix it," he spits desperately. "Find a way - you have to fix it. Tim, I can't - they can't die, you need -"

"Kon!" you shout, pulling him away from Tim and spinning him around to face you as Tim huffs and straightens himself. "Kon, it's… it's ok."

"It's not," he says desperately. "I just - I just got you, I - I just got you back and you're telling me that I'm - I'm losing you now. I can't - I can't do that, I can't, I -"

"Kon," you say gently, holding his hands in yours and squeezing life into them. "You're not losing me today. Or tomorrow probably, or the day after that. I'm sure it'll be a long time before this really does either of us in." You glance over your shoulder as you say it, looking at Tim for guidance - for confirmation. He nods in agreement and there's something clouding his eyes that seems suspiciously like care. There's something about his quiet stance as he watches on that feels a bit too much like genuine empathy. 

Kon listens to you, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out one long, shaky breath before he sobs, burying his face into your shoulder to muffle the sound. You let him, of course. You tangle a hand into his curling, brittle hair and shush him gently, swaying the both of you back and forth while he wails and cries and trembles. 

"It's the most human thing I can teach you, my love," you whisper into his ear, listening to him sniffle and whine. "It's the most human thing there is - to be temporary. To love and lose and never get it back. It's the fact that you only have it so long… that's what makes it so good to hold onto."

"I don't want you to go," Kon responds slowly, his voice small against your neck, his skin cold as it presses against you and the stitches in his cheeks leave red indents in your skin.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight," you soothe him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head as he hunches over further to curl into your embrace. "I'm not going anywhere yet… and neither are you."

"Perhaps…" Tim's voice cuts through the sniffling and the crying, but he sounds gentle, hesitant and slow in a way that he doesn't normally. "Perhaps… you've found what you were always so hungry for."

"Hm?" you hum, distractedly. 

"I'm saying… maybe what you were looking for… the two of you have found." Tim gestures to the two of you, then, and you freeze a bit as you begin to understand what he's saying. 

"Yea…" you say slowly, hooking your chin over Kon's shoulder as you hold him closer and feel the way that his hands grip onto the back of your shirt. "Yea, I… maybe we have."

"It won't be forever," he warns. You sigh.

"I know, Timmy."

"You're… rotting, the both of you. You're decomposing, you're - well… you'll die a second time. But, uh, maybe that just means…"

"I know, Timmy," you say again, cupping Kon's face in your palms and coaxing him to look up at you. "It's a second chance at life. I know." Kon, at your words, blinks a bit sluggishly, his face paled into mismatched blues and greens and yellows, his body out of place even compared to itself. 

"Life?" he says quickly, cupping his hands over yours where they still rest on his cheeks. 

"Life," you confirm, leaning forward to press your cold lips to his.

"Is this your first time outside?" you quip as Tim sits down on the bench next to you. The botanical gardens are receding further as the weather continues to get colder, the leaves craving and falling as the flowers wilt and wither. But you sit, just the same, just as dead as ever, watching Kon idly throw seeds toward the birds in the pond nearby.

"…No," Tim says stiffly, and you give him a suspicious look. 

"Seriously," you say dryly. "How long has it been since you stepped out of that lab?"

"Well, I'm out now, aren't I?" he huffs, and you can't help but giggle a bit at the angry way that he sulks. 

"Well," you say easily. "Welcome to the land of the living… sort of."

"No sort of," Tim responds kindly, eyeing the way that you sit with your leg propped up on the wooden bench. "You two are… well, you certainly act alive, that's for sure."

"Aw, thanks."

"Maybe… maybe there's, oh - I don't know. Maybe there's, uh, something… something someone could learn from that." Tim looks away as he speaks, staring out toward the city beyond the gardens, the noise muffled beyond the fences and the climbing ivy.

"Timmy… what?" you ask, shocked.

"Maybe, I - it's… maybe I missed a thing or two. Just once or twice. Maybe life's a little less worth it when you're not… living it. I don't know… something like that."

"Woooow," you drawl. "So, what, you're giving up on it?"

"Don't be stupid," Tim snaps. "Of course, I'm not giving up on it. I just… maybe I'll - I don't… maybe I'll just take a break every now and then. I don't know." You grin as he speaks, but just as you're opening your mouth to make a quip, he shoves an envelope at you.

"What's this?" you ask, quirking a brow as you rip it open and shake out two identical keys.

"I don't use the apartment over the laboratory anymore," Tim says stiffly, watching Kon swish his hand in the cool water of the pond as he crouches in the grass. "It's… it's just empty. Someone might as well use it."

"You're… giving us an apartment?" you ask quietly, staring at the keys in your hand.

"It's nothing," Tim snaps. "Don't mention it." But you're staring at the keys like they weigh the world to you. You're staring at them like you're holding home in the palm of your hand.

"What's going on?" Kon's voice makes you snap your head up and you see him jogging up to the two of you, a frown tugging at his lips as he glances at Tim's sour expression.

You toss one of the keys to Kon in response, watching as he catches it against his chest and cups it in his hands like something precious.

"What do you say," you offer quietly, smiling up at Kon as the sun crests over the gloomy city behind him. "Ready to go home?"

With that, a new routine begins to settle over the three of you, and you and Kon begin to build a life together - a home together in the city that haunts, the city that curses. Tim stays in his lab, puttering away endlessly downstairs and muttering to himself about his experiments, but he…. comes out every now and then. He leaves every once in a while to breathe fresh air and sit on the rooftop with the two of you. 

You and Kon are lying on that rooftop one night, pointing up at the stars that are just barely peeking through the shroud of fog that blankets the city, when the building rattles from the force of an explosion in the lab.

"Do you think someone should check on him?" Kon murmurs, half asleep as you curl up against him and rest your head on his hollow chest. 

"Nah," you mutter sleepily. "That wasn't a very loud one. I'm sure he's fine." Kon hums in agreement and traces his fingers up and down your arm, the ill-assorted pads of his fingers pressing against your skin gently. 

"How are you feeling?" he asks gently, and you shrug against him. 

"Better," you admit. "Timmy… well, it's a surprise, I suppose."

"Yea," Kon huffs. "I didn't think he had it in him." He's right - you were both shocked at Tim's quiet, hesitant offer to help the two of you. He can't stop death completely, sure, but it brings a great relief to have someone to turn to when life starts to wear you down.

These days, any time either one of you has one of those strange, undead pains or aches shooting through you, Tim is the first person that you turn to. And it's odd every time, you think, to watch Kon turn to Tim for help… and to watch Tim give it willingly. It's odd to see people grow and change and become.

"What are you thinking about?" Kon whispers as you yawn and press yourself further into him, one of your hands slipping under his shirt to smooth over his stitches and scars.

"Do you feel it now?" you ask in response.

"Hm?"

"Do you feel like you're becoming something?" you clarify. "Do you feel like you're… like you're living? Do you feel alive now?" Kon pretends to think about it, making a big show of humming and pursing his lips as he rolls over your words in his mind. You just roll your eyes in response, though, and curl further into him to close your eyes while you rest against his chest. 

"You know," he says slowly, though, the mirth leaving him for a moment as he grows sombre. You lift your head from his chest to prop yourself on your hands and look down at him, cocking your head to the side as you look at his ill-matched eyes.

"What?"

"I think," Kon begins again slowly, smoothing a hand over your back as he looks up at you, his eyes glinting with something akin to life as he smiles. "I think that right here… yea. Yea, I'm already everything that I needed to become."

"Wow," you quip, but you clear your throat and let yourself collapse onto him to hide your face in his chest again. "That's… that's high praise."

"It's deserved," he responds easily, but the way that he wraps his arms around you and holds you to him tightly conveys the earnest need that his words leave out. "…Thank you."

"No way," you shake your head, your face rubbing against the stitches patches of his chest. "Thank you." Because you do, you think, have to thank him for bringing you back from the dead in a way that you never could manage by yourself. You do, because you shouldn't be here. You're not supposed to be here, either of you, but you are. Whether you were supposed to or not, whether you wanted to or not, you have come to life and now you must live.

[mychlapci]

I’m jumping on the Slut!Prowl bandwagon and just say that his team would probably find out eventually.. most likely through an old fling of Prowl’s that’s with the Decepticons.

Prowl would be so embarrassed and guilty.. until Ratchet is like “oh, so you slept around a lot too?”

Yep, we’ve got TFA Party Ambulance!Ratchet too.

They’d probably share stories about their sexual encounters while the rest of their team just stares at them in shock and a little bit of horror because who knew that old, grumpy Ratchet and prudish, dark and broody Prowl were whores back in their day?

Eventually, it became less about stories from their sexual adventures and more about one-upping each other, and they turn it into a competition to see who had done the freakiest thing during sex.

Bumblebee keeps tally because there is NO WAY he was gonna miss out on this. Bulkhead and Optimus are equal amounts of horrified and slightly entertained.

The team learns a lot of new things about Ratchet and Prowl that day (like how apparently they at some point attended the same orgy together??? A small world they live in.)

They all probably fuck each other afterwards but nobody needs to know that lol

lol. a decepticon recognizing Prowl from his slut days and happily tells everyone about it in an attempt to humiliate Prowl. And he is humiliated, and Bee probably thinks of so many jokes at Prowl's expense by the time they get back from the mission... I'd like to think that Ratchet talking about his party ambulance days is an act of solidarity from him. He’s being nice… in his own way. Besides, he won't shame a kid for being young and having fun, not when he went through the exact same phase. 

He ends up really easing off Prowl's worries by sharing stories… Everyone else is intently listening. Not because the stories are cool, mind you, but because it's like a car crash, so terrible you just can't look away. Or, in this case, stop listening.

Prowl having had used to go for older mechs too, so while sharing an absolutely disgusting, foul story of how a guy put a [REDACTED] in the [REDACTED] and then [REDACTED], they end up realizing that it was the same damn guy. How funny! Meanwhile the rest of the team is open mouth gaping at the two as they realize just how many things someone can do to a valve without breaking it completely. Like, can you even put that thing up that hole? No matter, they've moved on and are talking about some other disgusting experience. Horrible, terrible experiences that definitely don’t get anyone hot under the panels at all. 

I like the thought that they all fuck each other afterwards but how about everyone going to sleep stupid horny and confused with themselves… 

[atlasscrumpit]

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

You walked along the streets, cutting through alleyways as you kept your hood over your face.

Suddenly you were thrown to the floor and groaned in pain.

You panted and glanced up to see Spiderman above you.

You turned away enough to keep your face hidden.

"What are you doing?! You could've broken my arm!" You screamed at him before he picked you up by the collar and slamed you against the wall behind you.

Your hood fell off and he looked at your face and gasped in shock.

"What the hell?" He muttered as he stared at your terribly wounded and scarred face.

"Get off me!" You shouted but his grip only got tighter.

"I got info there was a drug deal happening here, and you're looking quite suspicious." He growled, staring into your eyes as you looked at him in fear.

"I'm not here for a drug deal! This is my short cut home." You explained before he searched your pocket to find a knife.

"Then why do you have this?" He asked making you scoff.

"Because I'm a girl walking around at night and need protection." You said as he huffed in annoyance, he put you down before grabbing your backpack and searching through it only to find some snacks and tampons.

He rolled his eyes before throwing it back to you.

"Fine, you're not who I'm looking for. Beat it." He growled as you held onto your bag and backed away.

"Fuck you, Spiderman." You growled about to leave before you heard a gun shot.

You looked at Spiderman with eyes wide, watching a man run off.

"Did you get shot?" You muttered as he looked at you in horror.

"No! You did!" He shouted in a panic as he rushed forward.

You looked down and saw the hole the bullet had entered your body.

"Oh..." You muttered before you began digging your fingers into the wound, making Miguel dry heave.

You found the bullet and flicked it onto the ground.

"Piece of advice, stop being such a bitch. You're supposed to be a hero, not slam innocent people against walls." You growled before walking off, he ran up to you gripped your arm tightly.

"Wait, you can't just dig a bullet out of your ribs and fucking walk off. What the hell are you?" He said, his grip getting tighter on your arm.

"Stop, you're fucking hurting me." You growled before he let go.

He looked at you before pulling his mask off.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, knowing spiderman didn't reveal his identity to just anyone.

"You're obviously not a normal human, so what are you?" He asked as you rolled your eyes.

"Look it doesn't matter, why do you even care?" You growled as he stalked towards you.

"Because I like to know the people in my city and if I need to worry about you." He said lowly making you back away.

"I don't know what I am, okay? I just... I can't die, my wounds heal but leave scars. Hence the face." You muttered as he nodded a little.

"Why not put it to good use? You could be a hero." He said making you roll your eyes and scoff.

"Yeah... I'm good but thanks for the offer." You grumbled about to walk away before he grabbed you again. 

“So, you’re just going to be selfish?” He said before you pushed him away from you. 

“Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what I’ve been through, the last fucking thing I need is to rescue these fucking humans that did this to me!” You screamed at him as he looked at you in shock. 

“Okay, calm down. Why don’t we go get a drink somewhere? It’s not often I meet someone…strange like me.” He said as you looked at him with suspicion. 

“Fine, but we’re getting food ordered to my apartment. I hate going out.” You muttered before gesturing for him to follow you through the backstreets. 

“I should probably hunt down the guy that shot you.” He said as you chuckled. 

“Take a night off, don’t worry karma will get him trust me.” You replied as he looked at you in confusion. 

Suddenly you heard a loud crash and smiled. 

“I’d say that would be him getting hit by a car, now let’s go.” You said continuing to walk on as Miguel was left in stunned silence before quickly following you. 

You eventually made it to your apartment that was surprisingly large, Miguel had expected it to be crappy and run down. 

“How do you afford all of this?” He asked looking around at the expensive decor. 

“I’m a ghost writer, I write novels but other people get the credit. Pays very well and I never have to show my face or risk people knowing what I am.” You explained as he nodded, pretty impressed by your career. 

“So, how did you know that guy would’ve been the one to be in the car crash? It could’ve been anyone.” He said as you chuckled and grabbed out a whiskey from your alcohol cabinet. 

“Karma is usually on my side, I don’t know why but apparently karma likes me. I likes it’s company too.” You replied, only confusing Miguel even more. 

He decided to not ask anymore questions. 

You both sat down by the large window that overlooked the city with a glass of whiskey each. 

“I gotta say, I didn’t expect someone like you to have expensive taste.” He said making you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Also don’t slam random before into fucking walls, by me a drink first.” You joked making him chuckle a little. 

The night went on as the bottle of whiskey got more and more empty, you and Miguel sharing your lives and secrets. 

It was nice to talk to someone, you didn’t exactly have friends. 

Miguel stood up and was about to leave before you stopped him. 

“Just stay here, I’ve got a spare room.” You said, both of your clearly drunk. 

He looked at you and you both paused for a moment before a moment of passion sparked and you leant forward to kiss him passionately. 

Next minute you were up against the wall while Miguel held you up and kissed you. 

Everything went by in a blur, the pleasure and alcohol blending together as you lost yourself in each other. 

—

You woke up the next morning seeing Miguel naked and fast asleep beside you. 

You groaned and rubbed your head, the hangover getting to you. 

“Fuck.” You muttered as Miguel began to wake up, he sat up, yawned and stretched. 

“How do you look like a fucking Greek god and I look like I’ve been poisoned.” You muttered with a hoarse voice making him chuckle. 

“I guess your powers don’t make you immune to a hangover, huh?” He taunted as you groaned and laid back down. 

“Stay there, I’ll get some water and pain killers.” He said before getting up and going out to the kitchen. 

You were surprise he hadn’t just left in the morning like men usually did. 

When he came back you thankfully drank the water he had got for you. 

He sat beside you and rested against the head rest. 

“So, how did you get the scars on your face?” He asked as you chuckled softly. 

“Isn’t that a third date question?” You joked making him shake his head and chuckle. 

“Considering I attacked you, you got shot, we got drunk and fucked I’m pretty sure that counts as seven dates.” He replied making you laugh but grip your head in pain and curse out the hangover. 

“Well, I got to age twenty two. Woke up one day and things were…different. I lived in a rough part of town, messed with the wrong people and got stabbed. I expected myself to just bleed out, but it just healed over. I told my father, he was a scientist and surely he had answers. But, after he had found out I wasn’t his daughter anymore, just his experiment. Weeks, turned to months and then years, he would cut parts of my skin out to test, he would shoot me, stab me, slit my throat just to test how far I could survive. It was torture… Death would’ve been so much kinder. One day I managed to break out of my restraints, I took the knife out of my stomach and stabbed him… twenty six times.” You muttered as Miguel looked at you in shock. 

“It’s not a pretty story.” You said taking a sip of water. 

“Fuck… but, still thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.” He said making you smile a little. 

“I wanted to… I haven’t had a friend or whatever this is in a long time. It’s nice.” You whispered looking at him as he smiled and leant forward to kiss your softly. 

“I agree.” He said making you blush softly. 

“And since you’re not hungover you’re going to order breakfast for me, pancakes, waffles, muffins and everything sweet.” You said as he laughed and shook his head. 

“Now, Miguel!” You shouted as he got up still laughing. 

“Fine, fine. Bossy bitch aren’t you?”

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 28:

I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: spicy content; 16+

Darkness clouded my mind. White noise ringing in my ears. Body numb. The blurry images of a red car, flipped over with high speed colliding into the wall. A person in a red race suit on a stretcher. Lifeless. A paramedic checking the pulse but shaking his head. Dead. Gone. My heart clenched. My once numb body now filled with excruciating pain. A faint noise caught my attention. Voices. Beeping. Shuffling. The images of the red car got sharper. A number visible. 16. The lifeless persons helmet looked familiar. Charles. I inhaled sharply and opened my eyes in horror. I sat up abruptly. Eyes blinking, trying to get used to the bright light. I looked around. Medical centre. I pulled the oxygen mask away from my face and tried to breathe on my own. My ears started to ring and my chest hurt.

"Hey, hey, hey! Lizzie! Put the mask back on!" Dad walked up next to me, pulling the mask up again. I was trembling. Tears stinging in my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Charles." I croaked out. Voice barely audible. Hoarse.

"Lizzie…" Dad begun but I shook my head. Reality settling in. He was gone.

"I want to see him! Now!" I cried and Dad sat down at the edge of the bed, trying to comfort me, but I pushed him off "I want to see him! I want to see him! Please!" I whimpered and tears were streaming now uncontrollably down my face. I pulled my knees up to my chest. Body shivering. Repeating over and over "I want Charles."

Dad said something but I couldn’t understand him. I was just wailing and crying. I lost him. After everything we’ve gone through. After we’ve finally found our way to each other, realising that we belonged together. After I spent years of denying my feelings for Charles. We’ve wasted so much time. So much time with yearning and dreaming of each other. I shook my head, thinking about Charles. His smile. His eyes. His dimples. His lips. The way he kissed me this morning before we headed to the track. The way he held me in his arms. The way he looked at me, with so much love and admiration that I blushed. Hard. And his laugh after seeing me blushing. His laugh. The most beautiful sound in the world. All of the memories of him were crashing down on me. They were flooding my mind and a new wave of devastation was hitting me. Dad tried to push me back into the cushions but I didn’t let him. He tried to talk to me but my mind didn’t register it. Then I saw a nurse fiddling with the IV tube, saw the syringe. For a moment I looked at her stunned, then turned to Dad, as I was about to say something I felt tiredness overcoming my body. My mind. Darkness surrounding me.

Charles POV:

I stirred in the bed. I felt dizzy. Body sore. Head aching terribly. I looked around. Medical centre. I closed my eyes again. What happened? I was overtaking Max, we touched slightly. I hit a kerb. Next thing I knew I was hanging upside down in the car. I opened my eyes again and carefully sat up. My race suit and boots on a chair in the corner. Fireproofs as well. I looked down at me, wearing a hospital gown. I tried to get up as I heard a commotion outside the room.

"I just want to know if he’s okay!" an angry voice I knew all too well.

"Sir, I’m sorry, but only team members or family are allowed to this information." another male voice "Please leave or I have to call security."

"You listen to me now. That boy in there is like my son, I know him for more than half his life and I just want to know if he’s okay! Just tell me he’s okay and I can go. But I need to know that he’s gonna be okay. Please!" Juergen’s firm voice began to weaken and I pushed the call button next to my bed.

"Hello?!" I shouted and the door opened and I saw Juergen standing in the hallway.

"Charles, are you okay?" he asked and I nodded then I looked at the guy who stood now in front of my bed.

"He’s family!" I said to him and he sighed, then he turned to Juergen and nodded. He immediately stormed into the room.

"You kids are killing me!" he whispered as he hugged me carefully.

"I’m sorry!" I chuckled a little, flinching as the movement caused a slight pain in my ribcage.

"Are you really okay? No injuries? Nothing broken?" he asked and pulled away holding my shoulders and eyed me for any visible damages.

"I don’t know to be honest? I feel okay, I guess?" I answered and we looked at the nurse.

"You’re probably having a slight concussion and whiplash. Maybe one or two heavily bruised or broken ribs. But otherwise everything is okay." he said and I nodded "There will be a doctor coming soon, you’ll be transferred to the hospital for further tests, just in case."

"Thank you." Juergen said and the nurse left. "Never a dull moment with you guys."

"Yeah… sorry!" I said sheepishly and looked at him "Who won? Where’s Lizzie?"

"The priorities…" he chuckled dryly but then his look changed "George won… and Lizzie is… umm she’s…" he stopped for a moment and I looked at him, panic settling in

"What happened? Is she okay?" I asked.

"She’s okay… she’s just down the hall. She umm… she had a break down. She thought you were, well, she thought you died. Yeah it was a mess. I think everyone thought it for a moment… but anyways. She broke down, couldn’t breathe, she had a panic attack and they had to sedate her earlier…" Juergen said and I scrambled out of the bed, pain shooting through my side "What are you doing? Charles!"

"I need to see her!" I said and put the fireproofs back on.

"Charles! The IV bag!" Juergen said and I looked down at my hand, blood dripping from the ripped out catheter. He handed me a tissue from the sideboard and opened the door, looking for the nurse who walked back in.

"Sorry. I just need to get out of here. Can you just I don’t know. Put a band aid on?" I asked him and he sighed.

"You need your fluids!" he said and I shook my head "Yes, you do! Sit down I’ll take care of it!"

I put my shirt on and sat down on the bed, to catch my breath, slowly inhaling. The nurse cleaned my hand and put a band aid on.

"You have 15 minutes! Then I’ll come and get you! Understood?" he said and I nodded.

"Understood. Thank you!" I said and got up. With Juergens help we walked down the hallway. "What time is it? How long was I out? How long is Lizzie out? God my brain is hurting!"

"The race finished 3 hours ago. It took a little to clear the track. Lizzie broke down when the rest of the grid went back to the pits and she was out of the car, watching how the marshals and the medical team got you out of your car. You laid there. Not moving. One of the paramedics checked your pulse and then he shook his head. Lizzie thought it meant you have no pulse… that you were dead… to be honest a lot of people thought so…" Juergen said and I swallowed hard.

"It wasn’t like that, the one guy checked my pulse when the other one asked if he should remove my helmet, that’s why he shook his head, he meant for the helmet to stay on for the moment." I sighed, thinking how it must’ve looked for Lizzie, Maman. Everyone! "I need to call mum! What if she also thought so?"

"Right as we arrived at the medical centre I saw how they took care of you and saw that you’re… well kinda okay, or at least alive, so I texted everyone." Juergen said and I squeezed his arm.

"Thank you."

He opened the door to the room where Lizzie was lying, the room was long, with many beds on both sides, around one on the other side was a curtain drawn close. There was an IV bag attached to her, a heart monitor and the oxygen mask, she also had a little bruise on her cheek. She looked peaceful, as if she was sleeping. I took her hand in mine, she felt cold. And then it hit me. The flashback to her accident. When I visited her, still in coma, lying in her bed looking as if she was sleeping. Just like now. And both times were my fault. I didn’t know that I was shaking until Juergen put his hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me down into a chair.

"She’s okay, Charles. She’s just a little exhausted and well, sedated." Juergen whispered and I nodded slowly "The nurse said she will be awake in the next hour."

"I’ll stay here." I said but he sighed.

"Charles you have to go to the hospital. They need to check you thoroughly through!"

"I’m not leaving her side, not until she wakes up and sees me." my decision was made.

"Okay." he walked away and I looked after him.

"Where are you going? Can you- can you please stay… I don’t want to be alone with her like this…" I said quietly and Juergen smiled.

"I’m just getting you something to drink and tell your friendly nurse that you won’t be back in the next minutes like you said…"

"Okay. Thank you."

"It’s okay. Just… just stay there, don’t move, don’t do anything, okay? Just relax."

"Okay." I said and then turned around to Lizzie.

The beeping of the heart monitor, the smell of disinfection, Lizzie’s frame in the hospital bed. The flashback wouldn’t stop. I felt my chest constricting, breathing getting harder. The first accident was because I let someone in our life’s who made her run away from me, who made her be at home at this day, who made her jump in front of that car. Miami was also my fault, she wouldn’t have the sleep paralysis without the accident. Today was because I couldn’t control my car, because I wasn’t a good enough driver to control my car, wouldn’t I crashed out like that, Lizzie wouldn’t have be here. I brought her more pain than anyone else. I always wanted to protect her. Care for her. But she ended up in a hospital bed three times already because of me. I felt my eyes stinging. The smell of the disinfection burning my nostrils. The beeping of the heart monitor making my head throb. My ears ringing.

"Lizzie, mon amour, please wake up." I whispered, voice hoarse "I’m okay. I’m not leaving you. Never. But you have to wake up. Please."

I kissed her hand, gently stroked her cheek, the bruise, her lips.

"It’s all okay. We’re okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. But please wake up now." my voice barely a whisper. I felt hot tears streaming down my face "I’m so sorry, Lizzie, so sorry! I didn’t want this to happen. I’m so sorry!"

I couldn’t breathe. My sight turning blurry, head pounding, ribcage throbbing in pain. I felt dizzy. But I kept holding on to Lizzie’s hand. I couldn’t let go of her. She had to feel that I was here. I tried to focus on her face. Her beautiful face. Hidden behind the fogged up oxygen mask. Images of a tube flashing before my eyes and I had to close them.

"No. No. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay, mon amour! You’re sleeping. You’re okay." I mumbled again and again.

I flinched when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Marina, telling me to leave, get home, get some sleep.

"I’m not leaving her side. I’m staying. I have to. It’s my fault. It was always my fault. I’m so sorry. So sorry!" I whispered, but the hand was way too strong, turning me away from Lizzie.

"Charles? Hey? Breathe. You must breathe!" Juergen’s voice echoed in my head "Come on. Breathe! Look at me! Charles! Look at me!"

I tried to blink away the tears and saw the blurry face of him in front of me, looking worried. I trembled, breathing still ragged and he pulled me into a careful embrace. Holding me close and I felt my body relax. And after a while my vision turning clear again. Breathing became regular. The trembling stopped. The ringing in my ears gone.

"It’s okay. You’re okay. Lizzie is okay. It’s all good! Take a deep breath, alright?" Juergen said and gently pulled away from me, looking at me intently. I nodded and he slowly let go of me, pushing me back down into the chair.

"I’m sorry… I think I had… I had a little -…" I stopped abruptly and swallowed hard.

"A little panic attack? Yeah. And that’s nothing you have to apologise for. You hear me?" he patted my arm and I nodded a little "Here, drink something." he handed me a water bottle and I emptied it almost in one go "I talked to the nurse. As soon as Lizzie is awake they will take you to the hospital. They need to do some check ups. You don’t look to good and I think the way you’re wincing with every breath is a clear indicator that you most definitely have some broken ribs…"

"It’s nothing." I mumbled, leaning my head back against the chair, still clutching Lizzie’s hand between mine.

"You two… you are both so incredibly stubborn… that will be funny in the future." he mumbled and I looked at him "In a couple of years, you’ll know what I mean."

He sat down on the other side of the bed, pulling his phone out, calling our family, explaining them that we were both okay. We sat in silence, both looking at Lizzie, waiting for her to wake up, when she stirred a little, I sat up.

"I think she’s waking up! Do we need to call a nurse?" I gently squeezed her hands.

"I’ll go. You stay." Juergen got up and left.

"Lizzie, mon amour, can you hear me?" I carefully stroked her cheek and she exhaled loudly, fogging up the oxygen mask even more "I’m here Lizzie. It’s all good. We’re all good." I kissed her hand, waited for her to wake up. Waited for her big blue eyes to open.

"Charles…" a faint whimper and I looked at her. She looked like she was in pain and my heart clenched "Charles…" her voice full of sorrow and agony.

"I’m here, mon amour! Open your eyes. I’m here!" I scooted closer to her "Open your beautiful eyes for me."

"Charles…" Lizzie cried out loud and her eyes shot open, looking frantically around, her hand I wasn’t holding shooting up to rip the oxygen mask off her face. Her eyes slowly focused on me and I saw the tears forming, spilling over, streaming down her face "Charles?" her voice cracked when she brought her hand up to my cheek, carefully touching it, as if she was scared.

"I’m here. I’m okay! We’re okay!" I covered her hand over my cheek and felt how my body immediately relaxed under her touch.

"I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you. After I finally got you, I already lost you…" she cried, sitting up, pulling me in, her whole body trembling "I felt like all my walls were crumbling in. I thought I lost you." she cried into the crook of my neck and I rubbed soothing circles on her back, ignoring the searing pain in my side from her tight hold.

"But you didn’t, mon amour. I’m here! We’re both here! We’re both okay!" I kissed her temple.

"I love you. So much. You can never leave me. You just can’t. I couldn’t… I couldn’t survive. I wouldn’t want to! I love you. I love you. I love you.” she whispered over and over and I heard the door opening.

"Lizzie, hey my little owl, you need to let go of Charles." Juergen cooed and rubbed her arm lightly.

"I’m never letting go." she whispered and he chuckled a little.

"Lizzie, you crush his already injured ribs even more, you need to let go." he said and Lizzie immediately pulled back, eyes wide.

"Did I hurt you?" her face fell and I cupped her cheeks.

"Never, you hear me? No matter what! I always want you to hold onto me!" I said and she took my hand in hers, kissing my knuckles.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know." Lizzie said quietly and I shook my head.

"It’s okay!" I kissed the crown of her head as the door opened again.

"Mr. Leclerc, I have to insist on your transfer to the hospital!" the nurse said and I nodded, Lizzie looking scared.

"I’m okay, Lizzie. Just some check-ups! You rest a little and then I see you back in the hotel, okay?" I kissed her gently, her lips dry but still soft "Everything is good, okay?" she nodded slowly, kissing my cheek one last time and then I got up "Text me as soon as you’re back in the hotel." I looked at Juergen.

"I will. Andrea is waiting outside with your bag and your phone." he got up and hugged me carefully "Please don’t do anything stupid on your way to the hospital, okay?"

"I promise." I chuckled a little and with one last smile for Lizzie I left with the nurse. Andrea waiting for me next to an ambulance.

"At least it’s a red car." he chuckled as soon as he helped me inside "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. I’m more worried about Lizzie…" I sighed leaning back in the stretcher, closing my eyes.

"Seeing her was… I think heartbreaking isn’t even enough… she was broken… and the camera guy zoomed in on her. On every damn screen you could see Lizzie breaking down. It was horrible." he said and I sat up abruptly, hissing in pain.

"He did what?" I couldn’t believe it.

"Yeah. We tried to shield her with our body’s afterwards but it was already too late, the breakdown was for the whole world to see."

A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to swallow.

"I just want this check-ups to be over with as fast as possible and go back to her." I whispered, feeling my eyes tear up.

30 minutes after Charles left a doctor came to check-up on me, giving me the all clear to leave the medical centre.

"Andrea left some clothes of Charles here for you to put on." Dad said, handing me a hoodie, sweat pants, tennis socks and a pair of beach slippers.

"Stylish." I laughed a little as the nurse pulled the catheter out of my arm, putting a big bandaid on. She then closed the curtains around my bed and dad left to get me something to drink.

"Here." he came back, handing me a bottle of water, while I was trying to put on the socks "Let me help you, you’re still a little dazed from the sedation." he pushed me back into the pillows.

"Yeah…" I mumbled, taking a large sip of water.

"The nurse will bring you something that helps against the headache you’ll maybe get from the sedation and then we can leave." Dad patted my leg and I nodded.

"Lizzie? Are you in here?" Felix’ voice from behind the curtain made me look up and Dad pulled the curtains back "Oh thank god." he carefully hugged me.

"I’m okay. Sorry for ruining the race." I whispered and he pulled away, looking at me sternly.

"You’re not apologising for that, you hear me?" he said with a firm voice and I nodded.

"How did Valtteri do?"

"P8."

"Okay…"

"In here." a man said and we watched how 2 security guards walked in, looking around, they went to the other bed where the curtain was drawn close and looked at the nurse.

"We have no other patients here tonight. It must be empty." she said and one of the security guards ripped the curtains open, revealing an empty bed. They spoke in Spanish into a radio and I looked at Dad and Felix, right as one of the guys came to my bed.

"Did you see anyone coming in or leaving that bed?" he asked and I shook my head, Dad as well "Okay. Thank you. Good night." they left.

"What was that about?" I asked and Dad shrugged his shoulders.

"Lizzie, I have to tell you something." Felix began and the tone of his voice gave me a bad feeling in my stomach.

"Okay?" I almost whispered and he sighed, running his hand down his face.

"Someone was in here… that’s why the security guards were here…" he began and I was confused.

"What do you mean? Someone was in here?" I asked and Dad held my hand.

"Someone filmed you. You and Charles. When you woke up and saw him… they filmed the whole conversation… then sent the video to various gossip and fan accounts…" Felix said and my head fogged up.

"What do you mean filmed them? What did they film?" Dad squeezed my hand.

"Juergen they all know now about Lizzie and Charles. The secret is out." Felix said apologetically and I felt the bile raise up my throat.

"Bucket." I breathed out and Dad reacted immediately, grabbing the rubbish bin and holding it under my head. I threw up. My throat burning with the bitter taste.

"Here." Dad handed me a towel and I wiped my mouth, then rinsed it out with some water.

"I want to see it." I said and Dad looked up.

"You don’t ha-…"

"I want to see it." I repeated and Felix handed me his phone. I watched the clip, a weird numbness washing over me.

"That’s what I call 4K ultra high definition." I stated and Dad and Felix snapped their heads up.

"What?"

"The quality of the video? Clearer than my eyesight." I chuckled dryly.

"The FIA and F1 are already on it. They will find out who took the video." Felix stated and I sighed.

"Won’t change the fact that it’s out there."

"Maybe not, but at least it will grant some justice."

"I don’t care about justice at all." I was tired, exhausted "Can we just leave? I want to take one of those nice pills and snuggle up in my bed."

"Yeah… I get the nurse." Dad left right as Felix phone rang and he stepped away, taking the call. He was tense and sounded angry. When he hung up he groaned.

"What’s going on?" I asked and Dad looked at me and then at Felix when he came back.

"Lizzie… umm you and I… we are- we are summoned by the FIA for an emergency meeting." he said and Dad cursed loudly.

"Of course." I laughed.

"Not gonna happen. I’ll take my daughter and bring her back to her hotel where she will rest and then tomorrow in the morning she can go to them!" Dad was furious.

"You mean later on? It’s already tomorrow!" I pointed at the clock and he groaned "It’s okay, Dad. I want this to be over. Let’s go, Felix." I got out of the bed and slipped into the slippers.

"No! It’s not okay, Lizzie!" Dad held my arm and looked at Felix "First they zoom in on her when she broke down, now here’s not enough security to protect her from prying eyes? And now an emergency meeting at half past 12? In the middle of the night?"

"Dad! You go back to the hotel. You look a little… well you don’t look so good yourself. I’m fine. I listen to whatever they have to say and then I’m on my way back to you, okay? You can check in on Charles, how he’s doing, please?" I pleaded and he sighed.

"I don’t like this. Not at all." he said.

"Me neither. Lizzie we don’t have to go. I don’t care what they will do. I want you to be okay." Felix said but I shook my head.

"It’s fine, really."

"It’s not. Not at all." he sounded mad.

"We go. It’s okay." I got up and Dad hugged me reluctantly.

"Take care of her!" he looked at Felix who only nodded.

"I will!" he held my arm when he saw me swaying "Come on. Let’s get this over with."

"Is it really necessary to do this tonight?" Felix whispered.

"We understand that this is not the best timing…" the FIA official began but Felix scoffed.

"Not the best timing? She’s been in the medical centre half an hour ago! She had to be sedated! She couldn’t breathe! She had a fucking break down! This isn’t just not the best timing! It’s the fucking worst timing ever!"

"Mr. Bayer, like I said, we understand you. But what happened today needs to be taken serious! This is an urgent matter!" the official said and Felix groaned frustrated.

"It’s okay Felix. I can handle it…" I said quietly and he looked at me, then crouched down in front of me.

"Are you sure, little one? If you’re not ready, we leave! I don’t care what they say…" he said and I smiled a little but nodded "Okay? But we make it quick!" the last part was for the FIA official and he nodded.

"Please come in." he said and I got up, Felix putting his hand around my middle to help me walk straight.

I felt the exhaustion of the day seep into my bones with every step that I made. I was still groggy from the sedation. My head was beginning to throb and I was tired. So freaking tired. But I wanted this to be talked through and then be over. Done. Felix gently pushed me down on a chair and handed me a glass of water. Just then I felt how dry my mouth was and I drank a few sips. My throat was burning. I could barely keep my eyes open, but tried my best to focus on the group in front of me. FIA president Mohammed Ben Sulayem, F1 CEO Stefano Domenicali and race director Niels Wittich. I didn’t know the woman and the other man.

"Mr. Bayer, Miss Doetterer, my name is Natalie Robyn, I am the CEO of the FIA, with me tonight is our president Mohammed Ben Sulayem, our head of PR Luke Skipper, Formula 1 CEO Stefano Domenicali and race director Niels Wittich." a middle aged woman introduced herself and then pointed at the man along her, as she introduced them "First of all, we as the FIA and Formula 1, want to apologise to you, Lizzie. Today your privacy was invaded massively. First by one of the camera operators and then later on in the medical centre, where we apparently didn’t provide enough security to ensure your safety."

"We will find out who filmed the video and the person will be held accountable for their doing." Domenicali said and I nodded, not even listen properly.

"Alright. You could’ve said that to us in a mail or something. If that’s all, I would like to take my driver now back to her hotel." Felix sounded mad.

"Actually, that’s not all." Wittich said and I looked up "Now that we know about this romantic relationship between two drivers on the grid, you understand that we need to have a closer look at all the race results."

My jaw dropped. What did he imply?

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice hoarse, throat straining.

"Like there have been concerns in the past about the connections between RedBull and AlphaTauri, regarding working together on the track, we have to look into the past races now as well, evaluating if there was any form of cooperation between you and Charles on track." Wittich said and Felix slammed his hand on the table.

"You summoned us here, saying it was about how Lizzie’s privacy was invaded, massively, twice yesterday! And now you’re telling me this is what? A hearing? Evaluating all the races of this season? We’re done here. My driver needs rest. We’re leaving." he got up and looked at me, but I knew that leaving now would only mean that we would get penalised so I grabbed Felix arm and pulled him down.

"No. We’re staying." I said and he gritted his teeth.

"I’m going to call our team lawyer. If you want to do this, then only with our legal advisor present." Felix got up again, leaving the room.

"We have to do this in order to protect you and Charles from scrutiny of the media, stating that you might have helped each other on track." Domenicali said and I scoffed.

"Yeah. Sure." I only said, taking another sip from my water, right as Felix returned.

"He’ll be here in 10 minutes. Until then we won’t say anything." he said and leaned back in the chair, staring at the group of people in front of us with utter disdain "I called your dad and explained him everything." he looked at me and I nodded.

When the door opened a couple of minutes later Harald walked in, slightly out of breath. He smiled at me and sat down on my other side. He took his phone and a text book out and opened a voice recording app on his phone.

"I called Mattia, he expects a full transcript of what is said in here." he didn’t even spared them a glance "For our own safety and yours as well I will record this hearing. Does anyone have a problem with that?" they all mumbled their consent and Harald looked at me, smiling encouragingly, then he looked at the group in front of us and put his game face on "Charles Leclerc and Lizzie Doetterer only started dating after Miami. Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Melbourne and Miami therefore don’t need new evaluating. Since Charles’ DNFd in Barcelona and Baku due to an engine failure, which couldn’t be anticipated beforehand and Lizzie had to retire in Zandvoort in lap 2. These 3 races can be crossed off the list as well. Remaining races Imola, Monaco, Canada, Silverstone, Austria, France… well I guess we can cross France as well off of our list. What was next? Ahh yes. Hungary, Spa, Monza, Singapore, Japan, although I’m not so sure you want us to reevaluate that one, do you now? So no Japan, but Austin and well Mexico… I guess we don’t need to talk about that either. Ten races left, correct?"

"Correct." Mrs. Robyn said and Harald nodded.

"Alright. Then let’s go." he patted my arm and I took a deep breath.

Going over ten races, with a sleep deprived, cloudy brain. Why not.

Charles POV:

I was pacing back and forth when the effect of the painkillers began to wear off and breathing got more painful again I waited for Lizzie to return. I was furious. How could they drag her into a hearing after what happened? My phone vibrated and without looking I accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"The hearing is officially over. She’s on her way back now." Mia said and I sighed in relief.

"What was the hearing exactly about?"

"They talked over the past races. Looking for a possible cooperation between you and Lizzie on track."

"What?" I almost screamed.

"Charles…" Mia began.

"Are you fucking kidding me? They think that what? Lizzie and I helped each other on track?" I was seething.

"They said it’s a precaution to protect you in case any other team would imply that…"

"I can’t believe it. Waste of time."

"Actually…"

"What?" my stomach dropped.

"They had a closer look at Imola, Monaco and Silverstone. Monaco in particular."

"Why?"

"Apparently some things didn’t fit together in the official report on what has happened."

"What does that mean?"

"The race in Monaco is officially under investigation."

"What, they think that Lizzie and I cheated?"

"There are indications…"

I heard the hotel door unlock and flinched.

"Thanks, Mia. See you later." I hung up and waited for Lizzie, watched how she walked in. Pale skin, with big, dark circles under her eyes. Head hung low. Hair disheveled. She looked up at me, the exhaustion evident on her face. Lizzie explained to me what happened in Monaco. She said she didn’t let me win. She didn’t do it. She didn’t cheat. Right?

"Did you cheat? Be honest. We promised us to always be honest. Remember?" I blurted out and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I-I… what? I umm I’ve…" she was stammering but the look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

"Why? Why would you do that Lizzie? You told me you didn’t let me win! You told me what has happened! What if the FIA doesn’t believe your story anymore? They officially investigate now Monaco!" I was fuming.

"You didn’t even let me finish! I don’t know, okay? I felt that loose part at my leg, had the feeling after a while when that part was gone that I couldn’t push the throttle through? And then when I heard that Ferrari fucked up your race again? I was furious and all that adrenaline? I don’t know, okay? I don’t know if I stopped pushing the throttle on purpose or if it was really because of that carbon part! When they investigated it, Audi and the FIA, they both agreed that the part slipped under the throttle and blocked it. Why wouldn’t they believe it anymore?" she said, her voice strained and hoarse.

"Because they just dragged you into a meeting under the false pretence of it being about how someone clearly overstepped your privacy yesterday, twice! And then it turned out to be a hearing about us. Without me. You alone! I couldn’t even protect you!" I shouted, letting the anger I harboured towards the FIA out on Lizzie.

"How was I supposed to know that they would ask me about us? I didn’t do anything wrong! They listened to my team radio, checked the data, my interviews, the investigation of Audi! And they decided that what happened was that this carbon part was stuck under my throttle and I couldn’t push it through fully. End of story. Period. The FIA gave us the all clear! They can’t just revoke that because they now think I was a what? A lovesick girl who wanted to let her boyfriend win his home race? Instead of winning her first ever Formula 1 race?" she was furious, but I also saw fear in her eyes, tiredness, the exhaustion. But above all I could almost sense her growing anxiety "I didn’t want this to happen! It happened! I can’t change it now! And I can’t change that the FIA decided to have this hearing tonight! You think I wanted to go there? Sitting there, unable to breathe properly? Sitting there being judged? Sitting there explaining them every decision I made in a race since the beginning of the season? No, Charles, believe it or not, I didn’t want all of that! But I can’t change it, okay? And I’m sorry for making you this angry! But I- I don’t…" her voice gave in. She started trembling and I saw the tears in her eyes. I felt bad. I shouldn’t yell at her. It wasn’t her fault. I was just so frustrated, felt helpless that I couldn’t be by her side and protect her. As I stepped closer she let out a mournful cry and I felt even worse.

"I’m sorry, mon amour. I shouldn’t let my anger out on you! This isn’t your fault, Lizzie! It’s the FIA. I’m furious because of them! They overstepped a boundary yesterday with filming your break down and then they didn’t even protect you in the medical center, let someone get in there and film us. None of that was your fault! I know that, okay? I’m an asshole. Please, cara mia, look at me." I pleaded and gently took her hands in mine as she looked up slowly "I’m sorry! I really am! I’m just… I’m so frustrated! I laid in that stupid hospital room, while you had to sit in a hearing for over four hours, after you just broke down! And I couldn’t do anything against it! But none of that was your fault, Lizzie. I know that, okay? I’m just… god I hate myself for reacting like this! I’m so sorry! I should’ve never let my emotions get the better of me! I’m sorry, mon amour, so so sorry!" I gently pulled her into me and she sobbed quietly.

"Everyone will know it now…" Lizzie whispered after a while and I nodded slightly "I’m scared. What if they’re right and people will start talking shit about us? What if they really think that we help each other out on track? They all hate me already, I don’t want the public to hate you too."

"Hey! Look at me! I don’t give a fuck what the public thinks about me, if they hate me. That doesn’t matter to me, cara mia. You matter! You and I! I love you and now the world knows it and that’s okay. I don’t care what will be said about us, it doesn’t change anything, okay? It’s okay, we get through this together. Like always, right? You and me!" I whispered and she nodded "Hey! You have to finish it!"

"Against the world." she chuckled quietly.

"Exactly! You and me against the world. And now come on. Hot bath, something to eat and then let’s go to bed!" I said and she only nodded, when I lead her to the bathroom.

"She’s still asleep." I whispered when Juergen walked in and I closed the door quietly.

"How are you?" he asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Better. I’m just glad that my ribs aren’t broken, only heavily bruised, apparently. Slight whiplash, no concussion. Some minor bruises. Nothing bad."

"That’s good. I’m glad you’re okay. Or almost okay." Juergen said and turned a little, looking over at Lizzie "How is she?"

"Exhausted. Scared. Worried." I sighed.

"I can’t believe the FIA would seriously think that you would help each other on track. And I definitely can’t believe that they would discuss this matter in the middle of the night and seriously go over every single race." he was seething and I felt the same.

"She sat there alone, had to listen to that bullshit while I was napping away at the hospital." I whispered but Juergen shook his head.

"Don’t you dare blaming yourself, Charles. It’s the FIA. They made this decision. They could’ve waited until the morning to let you guys rest."

"That’s the thing. I should’ve been there too. It’s not just Lizzie in this relationship. Why didn’t they want to talk to me? They could’ve summoned me for when I was out of the hospital? But they didn’t. I got away with it? Why?" I really didn’t understand why they weren’t questioning me.

"They probably thought because I’m a girl, I would break easier under the pressure…" Lizzie’s sleepy voice made me flinch and Juergen and I turned around. She sat in bed, still pale and with big, dark circles under her eyes.

"How are you?" Juergen asked.

"Like a truck rolled over me. Twice." she shrugged her shoulders and slowly got up, before she disappeared in the bathroom.

"I’ll order some food. When she came back she was too tired to eat." I picked up the phone and called for room service.

"I talked to Felix. Because of Monaco. He said you guys shouldn’t worry. There was an official investigation and the FIA accepted it. They can’t change their mind now just because you were a couple at that time." Juergen looked at me and I sighed.

"It’s the FIA. They can do whatever they want."

"They still need a reason other than that."

"I hope you’re right." I mumbled when Lizzie walked out and plopped down next to me "I ordered some food."

"Perfect, I’m starving." she yawned and leaned back into the pillows "Have you checked social media yet?" she fiddled with a loose thread of her sweater, or rather my sweater, not looking up.

"Nope and I honestly don’t plan on it any time soon. We’re eating now. Then we get ready and leave." I said and she looked up.

"Leave where to?" she asked.

"The next race is in 2 weeks, we have now some days off and we already talked to our teams." I explained but she still looked confused "We go to Tulumn for 5 days. Lay low for a bit. Just you and me. No one will know about it."

"Is that really a good idea? Shouldn’t we put out some statements? Will the teams put out a statement? How are we handling this? Will we just like, I don’t know, walk into the paddock next week, hand in hand and it’s all good? People will talk if there’s nothing coming from us?" I could practically feel Lizzie’s nervousness and anxiety radiating from her and I grabbed her shaking hands.

"We do it however we see fit, okay? One step at a time. We eat. We pack. We leave. We can decide if we want our teams to put a statement out, or if we want to do it ourselves. Or if we just post yep we’re dating, we’re happy, that’s all you need to know. It’s all in our hands, okay?" I said and she looked at me.

"Okay." she whispered and I wiped away a stray tear from her cheek.

"It’s going to be okay, cara mia." I kissed her temple when it knocked on the door, Juergen waved me off and opened the door, letting the attendant roll in our food.

"For how many people did you order?" she chuckled a little when she looked over the food cart, I scratched my head.

"Pops, you’re eating with us, I heard, right?" I said and he laughed.

"Sure. You don’t have to ask twice, brunch with my two favourite drivers, can’t say no to that." he closed the door and sat down.

"Will you fly back home? Or fly to Brazil? You could join us?" Lizzie looked at Juergen and he shook his head.

"No, I’m flying back home, there are some things at the karting track that I need to take care of."

"Oh okay? But it’s all good, right?" she asked.

"Of course, Lizzie. It’s just about some decisions regarding colours and placement of the new furniture and stuff like that."

"Okay, but will you be in Brazil?"

"I don’t know yet, we’ll see, okay?" he looked at her and then at me.

"Don’t worry, it will be okay, Lizzie. I’ll be by your side, JK, Andrea and Joris as well! You’ll never be alone. Okay?" I said and she sighed.

"Yeah, you and Netflix… I’m just glad they decided for whatever reason to not be here this weekend! I couldn’t handle that…" she took a bite of her toast and washed it down with some orange juice "Will they now expect that they can film us together? And put it in the episodes? Like not just what they had before of us being more platonic, but us as a couple. Is that even okay for you?"

"Lizzie, it’s out there anyways, so if that means that they’ll show it? So be it." I said and she nodded slowly.

"So be it."

"If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call the reception, my name is Carmen, and I will take care of all your wishes, enjoy your stay here at Papaya Playa!" I thanked her and then followed Lizzie, who already stood on the terrace, looking over the ocean.

"It’s so quiet here."

"It really is." I hugged her from behind, pulling her into me "We have our own private pool, only a couple metres to the ocean and 24 hours room service. We can spent the next 5 days in here without going out once." I kissed her shoulder.

"Sounds perfect." she whispered.

"It is. Now come on, that pool looks like we definitely need to jump in! And I also want to see that red bikini on you." I turned her around and picked her up, carrying her inside.

"You mean that red bikini you insisted on buying?" she laughed and I nodded.

"Yup that one. So come on pretty girl, put it on. I’ll order us some drinks." I replied.

"Okay, but no alcohol! That won’t mix well with your painkillers!" Lizzie mumbled, rummaging through her suitcase "It’s good that we have a private pool. I would never wear that one in public…" I heard her say quietly, more to herself.

I ordered some drinks and snacks before I went back to the bedroom to put on my swim shorts.

"Cara mia? Where are you?"

"In here." she whispered from the bathroom.

"Can I come in?" I gently nudged the door open a crack.

"Yeah." I heard her muffled voice.

"Hey, what’s going on?" I walked inside, feeling a rush go through my body, seeing her in the bikini "Wow. You look… wow." I was at a loss of words "Cara mia? What’s wrong?" one look in her face and I knew that something was wrong, I walked up to her, grabbing her by the waist "What’s going on?"

"I can’t wear that…" she sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. I looked at her confused "The bikini- it’s… Charles look at my back, the scars, they look disgusting…"

"What are you even talking about?" I cupped her cheeks, wiping away the tears "Cara mia, the scars on your back show what you’ve been through and what you’ve overcome to be here today! I love your scars, they are a part of you. The part that shows how strong you are! And also, I don’t know why you think that they are this bad? They are barely visible? And even if they were, nothing could take away from your beauty." I looked her in the eyes, trying to convince her that my words were the truth, that I meant every word I said "You are beautiful, cara mia, so freaking beautiful, you have no idea. And some barely visible scars on your back won’t change that! You hear me?"

"But… there were people who said that they look awful…" she whispered and tried to look down.

"With people you mean Camille? And her minions?" I asked and she nodded slightly.

"Not just them, also a lot of other people on the internet… there are so many fan accounts of you and Camille, or just Camille… they all said that they look gross and I should cover them…"

"And since when do we care what Camille, her minions or people on the internet say?" I gently tilted her head up again.

"I don’t know, okay? You cared for her words once…" she began and I sighed.

"This will always hang over us… won’t it?" I whispered defeated.

"No! I’m sorry! It’s not like that… it’s just, so many people out there always shipped us like we were the perfect couple, but the moment a picture with you and Camille got out, people began to say that- that she’s way more fitting for you… a beautiful socialite who knows how to behave, who’s classy, elegant and perfect for you. I’m nothing compared to her! And I guess when people began to say that you were always too good for me anyways, that you deserved someone like Camille, that I’m just not good enough for you, I started to believe it… and maybe still do it somehow." she looked down.

"But they got it all wrong, okay? It’s you who is too good for me. It’s you who deserves someone better. And it’s me who isn’t good enough for you!" I pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her back.

"I’m not too good for you." she whispered against my chest.

"You’re way too good for me, cara mia, you always were, but I know it and it’s okay, I’ll try for the rest of my life to make that up to you." I kissed her head "And just so you know, you are a way better person than Camille or I ever will be. Despite everything she said and did, you never not once spoke bad about her, the others told me, you wanted me to be happy and went through so much pain! I didn’t even realise what you were going through because you not once showed it to me!"

"I told you I would’ve done it all over again, to make you happy." she said into the crook of my neck.

"Exactly. That’s what I meant. You are a way better person than her or me." I gently pulled away, to look at her "And now give me that beautiful smile and join me at the pool. Come on."

"Didn’t you forget something?" she chuckled a little and I tilted my head, looking at her "Swim shorts?" she pointed downwards and I laughed.

"Yeah, true."

"I’ll take some photos and wait for you." she walked outside and I sighed a little. I didn’t know that Lizzie felt this insecure. I knew that the public wasn’t treating her nice and fair, not even decent at times, and that she pretended more than once that she doesn’t care although I could clearly see how much it hurt her. But I didn’t know that the comments about us were making her feel this bad, for years. I sighed and put on my swim shorts, then followed her outside, with the clear mission of showing her how much I loved her and that she was the one way too good for me, not reversed.

Right when I walked outside I saw her standing at the edge of the pool, looking over the sunset. I grabbed my phone and took a picture of her, when it knocked on the door. I opened it and found a cart with a huge fruit platter, finger food and pitchers full of cocktails and juices. Rolling it inside and filling up two glasses, I joined Lizzie by the pool.

"Cara mia." she looked up from the pool edge, her legs dangling in the water "Here. Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri."

"Good choice." she smiled, taking her glass.

I sat down next to her, grabbing her by the waist to pull her closer. We sat in silence for a while, nursing on our drinks. Listening to the sound of the waves, crashing down on the shore, birds singing away, the warm breeze on our skin.

"Coming here was a good idea." Lizzie whispered after a while, putting her glass down before she pushed herself off the ledge, water splashing around "Come on in, Leclerc." she dived to the edge of the pool, looking ever the bay, her face glimmered in the last rays of the sun.

I quickly followed her, caging her body to the pool wall, putting my chin down on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I think so too. It’s just us for a while. Even more, us outside, in the open, without worrying that anyone could see us." I kissed the side of her face and she sighed.

"Maybe it was stupid from me, to ask you doing that, keeping us a secret…" she began but I shook my head.

"I understand it. I did it back then and I do it now. I’ve seen what people wrote about you basically all your career. It was the right thing for us. We had to adjust to us as a couple first. Doing that with the whole world watching would’ve been not easy. Like this we could find ourselves, find out how we are as a couple. And to be honest? I like the result, no I love the result." I turned her head a little and kissed her.

"Me too. This. Us. It’s perfect the way it is."

The next days went by in a blur, filled with long mornings spent in bed, lazy days by the pool or beach, romantic nights in the hammock under the stars.

"What are you thinking about?" Charles whispered while we were lying on a lounger, soaking in the sun.

"We’re leaving tomorrow… then it’s back to reality." I leaned back, closing my eyes "I like it here, we’re in our own little bubble. No one knows us, no one cares for us. It’s just you and me. I’ll miss that."

"I know, me too. But it will be fine. We’re in this together, remember? We don’t care what people will say, okay?" he leaned over, looking at me.

"Okay…" I sighed a little and he leaned in closer.

"Sounds like you need a little more convincing." he kissed me, his lips salty from the ocean breeze "Now?"

"All will be good." I chuckled and he kissed my nose, getting up.

"Sounds better, but still not perfect." he pulled me up and laughed "But I have an idea…" he picked me up and ran towards the pool, jumping in.

Cold water cascaded me and when I emerged from the water I was worried.

"Charles! Your ribs! Are you crazy!"

"Crazy in love. Guilty." he pulled me into him.

"I’m serious!" I looked at him and he rolled his eyes.

"I’m fine!"

"Okay…" I whispered, carefully stroking over his bruised ribcage "‘Crazy in love’… you’re so freaking cheesy! I just can’t with you!" I mumbled and playfully hit his chest when Charles laughed.

"Tell me to stop being cheesy and I will!"

"NO! Don’t you dare!" I kissed his cheek "I love it when you’re cheesy!"

"Thought so." he chuckled.

After a while I yawned a little and we got out of the pool and Charles wrapped a towel around me.

"What do you want to eat? It’s our last day, we should have a special dinner for tonight!" he asked while gently rubbing my arms up and down.

"I don’t care, I’m not that hungry, more sleepy." I shrugged my shoulder, Charles kissed my forehead.

"Then lay down for a bit…" he nudged me towards the big sun lounge and I snuggled into the pillows.

When I woke up, Charles wasn’t around and I grabbed my phone, texting a little with family and friends to occupy myself. When I closed the message app my eyes landed on Instagram. I haven’t checked it since Sunday morning. After everything that had happened during and after the race, it was probably for the best. I sighed and put my phone down. It wouldn’t do me any good, looking at what people had to say. I stared ahead, trying to not let my curiosity get the better of me, but I failed. It was like an itch, that needed to be scratched, but the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. I opened Instagram and began the scrolling. Posts from official and unofficial F1 or motorsports account with comment sections flooded with questions, allegations and opinions. Charles’ profile, with a bunch of new comments under the latest posts why he kept silent. Why he didn’t say anything about what happened. Why out of all people he would choose me. I swallowed hard and clicked on my profile. I read comment after comment, I couldn’t stop. It was like I was in trance, I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling.

"Lizzie…" Charles stood behind me, saw my phone and sighed "What are you doing?" he whispered, taking away my phone "Why did you read that?"

"Tomorrow, we’ll leave this bubble… I guess I wanted to be prepared…" my voice thin.

"And? Are you prepared now? Or are you even more worried? Even terrified, from the look on your face…" he sighed and I rubbed my burning eyes.

"Your fans want to know how you are, after your crash…" I got up and walked inside.

"I don’t care. I care for you, stop please." he followed me inside, grabbing my hand "Talk to me? What’s going on in there?" he gently poked at my forehead and I had to chuckle.

"It’s exactly what I expected… how could you choose me…" I mumbled.

"Easy answer. How could I not. The real answer should be, how could you choose me!"

"Charles…"

"No Lizzie. I don’t care what a bunch of idiots write or say. I couldn’t care less. Let them comment under every post their disgusting shit. I. DON’T. CARE." he emphasised every word and cupped my cheeks "Tomorrow, we leave this bubble, yes. But that doesn’t mean that it will burst. I love you. You love me. It’s as easy as that."

"Is it though?" I blinked the tears away.

"In theory? Yes. Practice? No, probably not. But that’s okay. Because it’s you and me. Against the internet trolls. Against the world. Okay?" he smiled at me, his face enlightened by the last rays of sunshine.

"Okay." I whispered and he pulled me in.

"I love you, cara mia. Let’s enjoy our last night here, what do you say?"

"I say that red bikini will make its comeback tonight…" I kissed his cheek.

"Sounds perfect."

After a romantic dinner under the stars and a little relaxation in the hot tub we settled down, cuddled up in towels and blankets, in the hammock.

"Thank you." I whispered, kissing his chest and he looked down.

"For what?"

"That post…" I looked at him and he smiled "You didn’t have to do that."

"But I wanted to. Prepare for cheesy post after post from now on." he chuckled and I kissed him.

"Really? Then I think you deserve a little reward for that…" I got up and Charles looked at me, biting his lips when I fumbled with my bikini top, letting it drop, walking away.

Not even a second later he grabbed me by the waist, spinning me around. His eyes visibly darkened, full of lust and hunger. His lips met mine, feverishly and hastily they clashed together. Charles’ hands were gliding down my sides, my skin melted away under his touch, until they grabbed my thighs and he lifted me up, my legs wrapped around him automatically. His bulge pressed into me and I moaned, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling on his hair, he groaned into my mouth. He took the few steps up the terrace and walked us into the bedroom, where he threw me onto the bed and then crawled on top of me. Charles kissed his way up my calves, then my thighs, he looked up, our eyes met for a brief moment before he kissed my clothed core. He hooked his fingers on both sides of the waistband of my bikini bottoms and pulled them down. I lifted my hips a little and a moment later the fabric landed with a soft thud on the floor. Charles continued kissing his way further up my body, nipping at my naval, going up the valley between my breasts, nibbling my collarbone, up the column of my throat over my jaw until our mouths found their way back to each other. He gently bit my bottom lip and I gasped, opening my mouth to let his tongue in, meddling with mine. I hastily began pushing his swim shorts down and he helped me, getting rid of them. I chased his mouth again and spread my legs, grabbing his butt, pulling him in.

"My my, look who’s impatient again." Charles chuckled while pulling away. He cupped my heat with his hand and I sighed, body squirming "Oh pretty girl, you’re so needy."

"Charles, stop teasing…" I whined.

"Hmm? Why?" he pressed down on my bundle of nerves and I moaned loudly.

"Charles, please…" I pouted and he groaned, pushing into me in one swift move.

"That damn pout." he sighed, kissing me.

"Works every time."

Chapter 28 - why drama, when you can have trauma 😬😅 soooorry! But hey, the cat’s out the bag! And our two lovebirds have some fluffy days…woop woop 🙌

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3 @maeve-wileyy @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[silvercap]

what are some wintery whump themes? ❄️

Hmm...

Falling through ice is a classic, but slipping on ice or being unable to run on ice are both good ones I don't see many people do! With the first, you get hypothermia and the shock of falling into freezing water, but the second is good for banging characters up/making it hard for them to fight. Ice!

Also, cars fishtailing on ice. Car chases, car crashes, etc. etc. Happens all the time, and it's soooo easy to catch a slippery patch and end up in a ditch somewhere

Hypothermia in general is 👌 so good

Illness!! Love a good far-from-civilization-stuck-in-a-snowstorm-can't-call-town-and-this-guy-has-a-bad-fever situation, but also just being at home sick on a cold winter day (or BECAUSE of a cold winter day) and sipping tea by a fire or under a blanket. See also, warm bath

Shivering!! Cold, fever, fear, you name it.

Frostbite is another one I don't see people do a whole lot, or not mention directly at least. Even mild frostbite can cause lasting damage--the second you go inside and your skin stays waxy and white, it means you've frozen it and you're probably going to be way more sensitive to the cold in the future! I froze my face once as a kid and I still can't go outside below 10 degrees celsius without feeling like I have ice on my cheeks. As for bad frostbite... I'm not huge on amputation whump, but tissues start to die when they've been frozen for too long---there's a particular sort of horror to be found when your toes look necrotic (google only if you have a strong stomach) and you can't even feel them 😬 maybe a bit of a gross one, but the time limit before frostbite sets in can be a good whumpy motivator!

With that being said, numbness! But also, when your skin gets cold it hurts a lot more to be slapped or hit, so there are levels to that one!

Blizzards are good! Lost, stuck inside, forced to go out in the freezing wind and icy snowfall whipping your face. Good stuff!

Sleep. For those of you who don't live in cold climates, it's draining as hell! We recently had a week of -40 weather and every time I came back from class I would be completely exhausted even though it's only a block away. Both tiredness, and sleeping for a long time can be good whump things in wintery situations!

This is a scary one, but avalanches. Don't want to get swept up in it... it's easy to be buried alive and snow is too heavy to get out of, so you better hope caretaker is nearby 😳

Coughing/lungs hurting from how cold the air is while running away from something/just walking outside when it's super cold

That's all I've got for now! I should really write more winter whump, because the environment can be super intense and harsh haha. Thanks for the ask!

[merakiui]

hi ms mera! could i ask for some spare cater thoughts 🥺 hes my favorite and i want to know what you think about him (bc you had him on your want to write about list 😖) also fun fact!!! did you know pregnant shrimp are called berried shrimp because they look like they have berries on their tummy 🥺🥺🥺

Hi!!! I have some spare Cater thoughts in my head, so allow me to share them. :D

✧ camboy cater who originally started camming just because it was so popular and he wanted to see how far it could take him. he's surprisingly popular and even managed to trend a few times on the site he streams on. so far he's only done solo streams, but he's been watching you for a while, and he's nearing a major viewership goal. maybe he should give his watchers a little surprise. <3 viewers are a shocked when cater films with someone else. they can't see his or your face, but you're struggling sluggishly in your bindings and groaning about how it hurts. you've been drugged...or have you? it's all role-play, isn't it? right???

✧ sk cater who really wants to be famous so desperately, but nothing's working no matter what he does or how hard he tries!!!! so maybe he documents all of his kills. maybe he live-streams them. or maybe he live-tweets about it!!!!! he has this really obscure secretive account and it feels so dismal and bleak just from a quick scroll through past posts. it's an account where he can actually be true to himself, where he can vent, where he can complain, where he doesn't have to be so cheerful 24/7. he's spiraling, but even on this vent account the few followers he has think nothing is inherently wrong. he's just some person on the internet feeling things. everyone has dreary days; maybe cataloguing them here is his way of coping. but he gets a sudden spike in followers after he posts an update that will forever change the trajectory of his online life: so not cool that the human body has so much blood. :/ ngl it's gonna take forever to get rid of the stain. and then there's a grainy photo attached of a carpet so soaked through with blood it's practically drenched. cater didn't think he'd gain any followers from a simple post complaining about something so...boring. but then he realizes something. people like thrills. people like horror. people can't turn away from a car crash even if they want to because, at the end of the day, we are all creatures drawn in by destruction. and so he gets an idea: wouldn't it be fun if his followers could use the cute, little poll feature on his social media to determine a person's fate? :)

✧ cater who works a summer job at a harbor and falls for the cute mer who often gets tangled in the fishing nets near the shore. he's saved you too many times from netting. at this point, your meet-cutes are more recurring than they are rare. he thinks you're super cute and he takes a lot of pictures for his magicam, but at some point simple admiration becomes more of a terrible attachment when he starts to look forward to seeing you every day he works his not-so-cute or exciting summer job. when he learns you'll be leaving soon for your species' spawning season, he realizes he might never see you again. and he can't let you go; you're the only one who truly understands him! so the next time you find yourself tangled in nets, cater doesn't cut you free. instead, he hoists you over his shoulder, ignoring your frantic protests, and brings you home. you'll live in his bathtub until he can think of a better place to put you. and if you're so worried about spawning season, he can help you out. after all, you can always rely on cay cay! <3

✧ stalker cater who is driving you near insanity. you don't know anything about him or his unique magic, but you're certain you've seen double or triple or quadruple copies of him???? he's everywhere and nowhere. sometimes it feels like his eyes are always pinned on you no matter where you go. and he always knows where you are, where you're going, what you'll be doing. the breaking point is when you try to report it, but officer deuce spade insists that there is no such thing as "a dozen creepy, look-alike men" stalking you. this town is completely safe! he's made sure of it! you're prone to trusting deuce because he means well and has always been so sweet to you. he eases all of your fears and worries when he offers to guard your property for a day or two just in case. after you've left the station, deuce feels so bad. it's wrong to do this. it's corrupt. an abuse of power. but cater is his friend... but you're also his friend... oh, he's in such a bind!

[horsefreek151]

My husband's First time Watching Twilight

My dear husband has not seen many of the movies that were very informative of my tween and teen years; Twilight is one of the top ones. He not only agreed to watch it but agreed to let me write down his reactions. Here are the 3 PAGES of comments I recorded during the two hour movie.

Opening line: "I'd never given much thought to how I would die." - Well, Lucky you

I'm glad this deer is going to be totally unharmed

What ?! Hang on... He catches the dear mid jump like a trick dog.

Him: Why is (Stephany Myers) so obsessed with baseball? Me: Shes Mormon Him: I think it's the homoerotic subtext

ACAB even (Charly)

Alright... one bathroom? There's only two of you!

Billy (who is in a wheelchair) responds with how hes doing by saying "Still Dancing!" - I love him Meets Eric - GAY BEST FRIEND *He was disappointed by him being straight* *Pauses Movie* I had no idea her name was Isabella

Mike Existing - That's the most awkward person Ive ever seen

Jerk kisses her on the cheek without consent - That's assault

*Edward walks in* - OMG thats BATMAN *JKJKJK*

How ... Why ... Why is she laughing.

So he can see the future... Nobody in this movie knows how to eat food. Fuck you, Binder! She is the awkward one Charly Guy in Mill getting hunted - Hes agile I would have fallen over by then. Bella slips and falls over - Relatable *he is unaware of the trope* "Not in Phoenix Bells" Line referring to large animals hunting people in Forks - "YoU DoNt HaVe AnImAls iN ArIzOnA" What do you mean Charly!? They have Mountain Lions and SNAKES Charly! *I mention scorpions too* No writer in this movie ever talked to a high schooler. "Your name is Bella?" - Its actually Isabella as I have learned I only care about this golden onion... and why it isn't a golden garlic. "Cold wet thing" - Unlike sand which is hot and course She also looks like shes in white face paint. (Edward) just walks away like a fucking freak... I love it. None of these people have ever talked to a human before. *Car Crash* - So much is happening... why are there so many cuts... The vampires all look like fucking mimes Your asking him about the speed he got there and not the CRUMPLED DOOR?!

Dont worry (Bella) Im also confused about what happened *Edward in the corner of her room* Hes like a fucking PTSD flashback. Hes a fucking sleep paralysis demon Its dumb to send (the vampires) to highschool. I didn't know one of (Bellas) personality traits was Clumsy There Bio teacher belongs in a sitcom They act like they are fifty or twelve... not like teenagers... twelve is more accurate. The most unrealistic part (of there field trip) is that the bus driver is not screaming at him for banging on the door... or maybe I grew up in Boston. *Edward dose the apple thing* - Ok now he's just making fun of her Robert Patterson and the guy playing Charly are the best actors. Edward mentions wearing a mask, and Bella quips about it - OOOOO, She called Edward out for being autistic! *He can say that as I am autistic and I give him permission* *Edward cant go to LaPush* - Is it cause he cant cross moving water? *He made so many jokes about vampire lore I didn't write them all down* I was trying to tell what time this flashback took place and I just couldn't. I'm glad they gave us a 30-second tutorial on how to get a book online. Some of this look like a horror movie TOKYO DRIFTING, Dam that was a fuckin j-turn! "Little do (her friends know) he was going to eat her, for her blood" Oh Bella, I understand he's a pretty boy, but back up from the "How do you know what he was thinking?" and back to the "WHY WERE YOU STALKING ME!?" I can't wait for the almost SA scene to never come up again... *sarcasm* * They touch hands by oops * - Touch Barrier Broken Charly and Billy watch the game - DAD DATE! ... Oh no not Butcrack SANTA! Looks at Jasper - Is he another vampire who fought for the Confederacy? She sees buttcrack Santa's body - Do they not have body bags? With how much he's stalking her he should be called Edward the Relentless *he loves what we do in the shadows* Why are we spinning... why is there so much spinning? Bella claims Edward talks old-fashioned - He talks like a badly written character... like everyone here. "you won't hurt me" - cause stalkers never escalate violence when things don't work out. Because she's a white woman, and he's her pit bull. LISTEN TO HIM WHEN HE SAYS HES DANGEROUS BELLA. "personal brand of heroine" - Him: because everyone knows heroine comes in brands Me: Im on name brand Meth (me referring to my ADHD MEDS) Him: You're on generic Meth, and you know it. (as I take the generic brand) YOU'VE KNOWN HIM FOR LIKE A WEEK "Irevicoably in love with him" - GIRL... WHY? Sees Emmit - He kinda looks like Peet Davidson I like (Edwards) sitting like a little weirdo He turned to madly in love on a dime. Wait hang on.... (skips back to Billy giving Bella the stinkeye) Eyyyy They do what we do! (Billy holding all the stuff while Jacob pushes, like we do with my wheelchair) Just Sees Jasper - "Ive never seen more fear in a character than in his face right now

Is he scared she will know he fought for the Confederacy? (I have yet to confirm or deny the truth of this statement) Alice being Alice - OOoO Edward, she's gonna steal your girl! No wonder he's fallen in love in 3 seconds... he's been seventh wheel for who knows how long. *there dancing in edwards room* - *husband starts singing my fair lady* "Hang on Spider Monkey" - IT's THE LINE!!! *I mention how it's creepy that he watches her sleep* Well, you watch me while I sleep, but you have insomnia... and were married. *they kiss*- This is the most Mormon shit I've ever seen. At least they show how realistically boaring being a vampire would be. Drinking while cleaning your shotgun... that's totally safe Charly... "Why do you play baseball?" - Since they are American Bella! - "Well it is the American past time" Esme says - SEE! The Thrupple of trouble is walking in like there ready for a photoshoot. Blond Thrupple guy (James) looks so High... "...STuck here like MOM" - OOF! KNIFE TO THE HEART! Did her friends just steal mugs from the diner? Edward won't stop drinking her blood - Bop him on the nose with a newspaper like a dog. Edward sad he "didn't" stop - But you did stop when Carlile bopped you on the head with a newspaper. We kissed once now were in love forever.... They are all weirdos and this feels like a cult Director of Photography, I hate you. Costume? I can't forgive you for that flashback. High school science teacher, you were my favorite. His final review: This was a bad movie. There are better vampire movies, there's better romance movies and better young adult movies. All the genera are valed, this is just a bad example of all of those generas. I understand why its popular tho, and why young woman loved it. Especially when you take in at the time, it came out. Its the American mix of all about sex but completely clean and demonising sex and not having any sex in it. To me its the same way that 50 shades of gray wants to be about sexy bdsm while still saying bdsm is morally wrong. Nothing wrong with wanting a sexy vampire with wanting a romance, I like romance. Theres nothing wrong with media for young women. This is just bad.

[bitacrytic]

Cast a Shadow [02]

"Are you willing to do anything I want?"

"Okay," Joe said, letting go of Ming as he tried to shrug Ming off his elbows. "This is getting weird."

Ming kissed him, crashing his lips into Joe's so quickly that for a moment their teeth clashed. 

When Joe gasped in shock, Ming slotted his tongue into Joe's mouth, grabbing him by the neck as he turned Joe's head the way he wanted. Joe melted against him, holding on to Ming as Ming pressed him back till Joe hit the bonnet of his car.

WARNING: ABUSE, TRAUMA RESPONSE, NONCON

CHAPTER TWO

It was a miracle that Ming was alone.

Joe rarely saw him alone. The few times he had, Ming's guards always appeared like the wind, brushing off any encounter like human interaction was a danger to Ming's health.

But this time, he was alone.

As Joe slowed down and lowered the passenger window, he half expected to be accosted by the big, buff men who seemed able to disappear and appear at a moment's notice. But no one came.

"Do you need a ride?" Joe asked.

Ming didn't reply.

Squatting on the side of the road with a forgotten cigarette slowly burning between his fingers, Ming stared into nothingness. Even when Joe honked his horn, Ming didn't move, didn't startle.

Wherever his mind was, it wasn't anywhere near where he was squatting.

Clearing to the side, Joe got out, pulling off his jacket as he approached Joe to cover him. Once again, he wondered if the guards were present. If they were, he wondered why they hadn't come to get Ming.

As he squatted to meet Ming, Ming gasped nearly jumping out of his skin as Joe moved to steady him. With nothing else to stop their fall, Joe slammed Ming into the metal bars right behind him as Ming groaned in pain, finally coming back to life.

"What the fuck?" Ming cussed, closing his eyes as he grimaced.

"I'm so sorry."

Joe had such horrid luck. For weeks, he'd been trying to talk to Ming since he got back into the country. Unlike his sister who was a regular visitor on set, her brother had never been to any of the sets of any of the movies that Akarayota Enterprises sponsored. The only reason Joe knew who Ming was, was because he'd walked into him at the hotel where Wut threw a closing party, in Tong's last movie.

As far as Joe knew, Ming didn't interact with anyone in the movie industry and probably didn't even watch any movies. A silent recluse who was always followed by big, scary guards.

It was just Joe's luck that the one day he'd found Ming alone, the one day they could actually talk, he'd gone and mistakenly assaulted the man.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"Get your hands off me," Ming said, shrugging Joe off as Joe moved away.

"My bad. Look, I-" He searched for a way to salvage the situation. "Do you need a ride home?"

"I'll find my way home."

"How?" Joe asked. "Where are your bodyguards?"

"They're where they're supposed to be," Ming said, a somber anger in his tone.

Joe immediately backed away, hands raised in the air for Ming to see.

"That's fine," he said. "I meant no offense."

He turned and headed to the car when he heard a soft gasp emit from Ming.

"Are you alright?" Joe turned back to find Ming staring at him, eyes wide with barely concealed horror. "What's the problem?"

"You just..." Ming began, shaking his head. "You... from behind. You look like someone I know."

"Oh?" Joe asked with an exaggerated, charming smile. "I've been told I have a stunning behind. I should," he said. "After all, I'm Tong Saelim's stand-in."

"Stand in?" Ming asked, unconsciously taking a step toward Joe. "What's that?"

"A stunt double for the movie star."

"Tong is a movie star?"

"You don't know that?" Joe asked, perplexed. "He's your sister's friend."

Ming scoffed. "More like fiancée."

"What?" Joe asked, ears prickling for that bit of information. Mostly because it was the kind of thing Yim would want to hear about.

"No," Ming said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have said that." He covered the distance between them. "You can't tell anyone."

"Okay," Joe agreed immediately, noting how distressed Ming sounded and looked. "I won't tell anyone," Joe said, holding Ming by the shoulder, to keep him calm but mostly to keep him from coming closer so he wouldn’t mistakenly shove Joe into the street. "I promise."

Breathing hard, staring at Joe like he was trying to choose whether to trust him or not, Ming frowned at him as his hands held Joe by the elbow, keeping Joe from actually moving away.

"You don't have to worry about me," Joe said, starting to worry as Ming's hands tightened. "I won't say a thing."

Ming leaned closer, moving right into Joe's space as Joe held his ground, weary but curious as to what Ming was going to do.

"Are you a good actor?" Ming randomly asked, confusing Joe beyond reason.

"Uh... as good as I need to be."

Because as beautiful as Ming was, Joe was slowly starting to realize why he didn't welcome human interaction. In the two minutes since they'd met, they'd hopped from one conversation to another with no clear transition. And while it was fun to stare into the round, big eyes of the mysterious pretty boy, Joe wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to keep up.

"Do you do as you're told?"

"What?" Joe asked, unable to fight the cringe that went through his body.

"Are you willing to do anything I want?"

"Okay," Joe said, letting go of Ming as he tried to shrug Ming off his elbows. "This is getting weird."

Ming kissed him, crashing his lips into Joe's so quickly that for a moment their teeth clashed. 

When Joe gasped in shock, Ming slotted his tongue into Joe's mouth, grabbing him by the neck as he turned Joe's head the way he wanted. Joe melted against him, holding on to Ming as Ming pressed him back till Joe hit the bonnet of his car.

As much as he wanted to keep going, Joe turned his head away, dislodging the kiss as Ming's hands clenched his jaw, trying to bring him right back.

"We're outside," Joe said immediately.

Just then, the lights from a passing vehicle washed over them as Ming seemed to come back to himself, looking away from Joe as the spell broke for another second.

"How far away do you live?" Ming asked, watching the other car drive away.

"Not far," Joe replied, his heart beating in his chest at what Ming's question could possibly mean.

"Take me there," Ming said.

And for once, Joe couldn't believe that good luck had somehow found its way to his doorstep.

*

There was no way.

Joe couldn't believe it.

Not even while it was happening.

With his knees spread against his bed, Joe rocked back against Ming's targeted thrusts as he pumped his dick with his free hand. It hadn't even been up for discussion. The moment they got into the apartment, Ming had stripped and positioned Joe on his knees, whispering against his skin as he kissed down Joe's back. Speaking words that were barely meant for Joe's ears.

But Joe wasn't usually particular about the mechanics. As long as everyone involved had a good time, Joe was always down. If Ming didn't want to bottom, that was just fine. By the time Ming slid into Joe, inch after inch till Joe was quivering with need, Joe realized that he'd been right not to fight Ming about it.

Moaning away as Ming pounded into him, Joe wished for his orgasm, coasting towards it with reckless abandon. So close. So hard. So sweet. Joe's eyes were clenched shut in anticipation, in thirsty want. So near.

"Oh," Joe gasped when he felt Ming's fingers encircle his neck.

At first, it was a passing flicker. A tentative touch that came and went between thrusts. But as the night progressed, Ming's touch became more certain, pressing against Joe's throat with more boldness each time.

As Joe's orgasm neared though, both of Ming's hands wrapped around his neck, pressing tightly against his throat till Joe's movements staggered. He batted at Ming's hand, a silent request for Ming to let up, but Ming only pressed harder, his thrusts coming in with more force than he'd used before.

"Ming," Joe croaked out as the hand tugging Joe's dick went to his neck, tapping harder.

But it just seemed to incite Ming more as he pushed Joe's head down.

Mind spinning at the abrupt appearance of possible danger, Joe reached for Ming's hands with both of his but the movement left him without a wedge as his head flopped onto the bed, dislodging Ming's dick completely.

"Ming, this isn't-"

Ming lifted a leg and stamped right on the back of Joe's head as Joe reacted on impulse. Turning over on the bed, he grabbed Ming's leg, shoved it away, and pulled Ming to the side, throwing his weight around as he switched their positions.

On his back, beneath Joe, Ming laughed at him, his face twisted into maniacal glee.

"I forgot that you're a stuntman."

"What the fuck was that?"

"I'm sorry," Ming said. "I mean, I was going to negotiate but I've decided I quite like that your resistance is real."

"Are you crazy?" Joe asked, his heart beating a million beats per minute as he looked down at the man he'd only ever seen as angelic, who'd somehow caught a devilish glint in his eyes.

"You should know," Ming said. "That my bodyguards are never more than twenty feet away from me."

"What the fuck does that have to do with you trying to kill me?"

Instead of answering, Ming called out, "Willy!"

"Yes, Khun-Ming," a deep voice answered from just outside Joe's doors as they opened and a tall, muscular man walked into the apartment.

Breath shuddering, Joe tried to get up. Ming held him in place.

"I'm going to do a few things tonight and I honestly don't want you to like any of them."

"Ming-" Joe began but Ming cut in.

"Take out your gun, Willy."

Willy reached into his jacket and pulled out a handgun with a silencer already attached to it.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked, shoving Ming away as he crawled toward the edge of the bed to get away.

"If he gets off the bed, shoot him in the leg, Willy."

Joe stopped moving just as his foot was about to touch the ground. Putting his foot back in, he turned to Ming.

"Why are you doing this?" Joe asked, his whole body rigid with the thought that Ming was crazy enough to get Joe shot and rich enough for such a crime not to matter.

"If he raises his voice at me again," Ming said, looking right at Joe. "Shoot him in the leg, Willy."

"Please," Joe said, kneeling before Ming as Ming crawled over to Joe.

"If he tries to fight me in any way," Ming said. "What are you supposed to do, Willy?"

"Shoot him in the leg," Willy replied. 

"Oh," Joe whimpered as he covered his mouth as scared tears fell from his eyes.

Moving behind Joe again, Ming's hand returned to Joe's neck. Joe winced, closing his eyes as more tears poured from them.

"How does it feel," Ming asked. "Now that you can't hurt me?"

"I have never-"

"Shhhhhh," Ming said

Joe's mouth clamped shut.

With his nails digging into the side of Joe's neck, Ming asked, "Do you want to suck my cock?"

"Oh god," Joe pleaded.

"Tell the truth," Ming said.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Tell the fucking truth, Tong!" Ming commanded.

Crying, Joe said, "I am not Tong."

"Yes you are," Ming whispered as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the back of Joe’s shoulder. "You’ve buried yourself in my skin Tong, but tonight? You’re the one who’s going to bleed."

As Joe quivered beneath Ming’s mockingly soft touch, he realized that he should have known.

If the pretty boy that Joe had been thirsting after for weeks suddenly wanted to fuck Joe, he should have known.

That his luck had never been that good, to begin with.

♡♡♡♡

♤♤♤♤

Chapter One on AO3

[illusionlockarchive]

What I like about Amanda the adventurer and what I feel makes it stand out for me is the fact that it puts the very uncomfortable element of child death, or at least child harm and psychological abuse and torture at the very front of itself. The child here is not concealed by a layer of detachment through a goofy talking animatronic, nor does she start off necessarily as just a dead body or tombstone or silent ghost.

She calls attention to herself, begs for you to help her, to look at her, pleads and shrieks and cries and screams, much like a real child would in a desperate situation. And it's tragic, a car crash you can't look away from, you gawk at the fact she is twisting into a vengeful spirit as she turns to anger and cruelty from all the hurt she's felt and you wish you could help, you feel bad for her, you really do, but there's nothing you can do except interact with the tapes and room to your best ability. The true ending only involves you throwing a brick at the TV. Amanda is still out there. Nothing has changed, but you have learned about her.

Equally it doesn't shy away from the subject of death and rotting, the way gore is shown, it is not the cartoony ocasional blood and guts that spill out of an overgrown toy, but rather those of a real dead animal that brings up uncomfortable themes for Amanda that she relates herself to, and she will ask that you look at it with her and examine that uncomfortable truth as well. She is a child who has not just seen death but become one with it. The trauma and violence inflicted on her is something that cycles around from her as a victim as she becomes the monster in the horror too.

Indeed, a character who is both victim and monster is something that is very interesting here and helps set this game apart from the rest, as well as the fact you just understand this is a tragedy along with the horror, you can't can't but feel bad as you look on. In such, the idea of horror also as viscerally uncomfortable not just in what is scary in an almost cartoony Halloween ish way but also in showing dark themes and telling a story that you know ends in tragedy or at least has happened tragically up til the current story is very present here, and is welcomed as it shifts the focus from simply eye catching scary monsters to heart clutching lament of the reality of violence and death.

That is not to say of course this is fated to be an elevated masterpiece of our time and a new solution to mascot horror, but at the very least the way it touches on its themes and presents its story leaves me way more cautiously optimistic and interested than many other such ventures in the genre I have seen. And that's already pretty dang good when you got things like poppy and banban out there

[iamthecomet]

SO, I'm jumping in here so I can stop hijacking your comments 🤭 here's your excuse for a book-related thread where you can scream about your newest reads!!

I need a new stand-alone book recommendation. All the folks at work are on a romance kick and I need something completely different. 180-degree spin kinda different!!

Tell me about your latest fave!

Do you have a GoodReads?

Feel free to rant!!

Ok SO. You have no idea what you've gotten youself into by giving me permission to do this BUT thank you. ♥ I do have a goodreads, but I haven't been good at keeping it updated this year. I've been using StoryGraph instead because it has pretty charts and graphs and I am a sucker for things like that. I have the same username and (and profile picture) over there as I do here, just in case anyone feels like stalking my reading habits hehehe. As far as stand-alones and not romances go that I've read recently (ish) and enjoyed, you can find them under the cut to save space :)

Family Lore - Elizabeth Acevedo - Magical realism about a couple generations of women most of whom have supernatural gifts. One, Flor, has dreams when people are about to die. She suddenly decides to throw herself a living wake, but won't tell anyone (not her sisters or her daughter) if that means she dreamt of her own death or not. It's very grounded in the real world and very much a book about family and relationships and heritage. It's strange and heartbreaking sometimes and feels real. It won't be my favorite book of the year but I really enjoyed reading it. Manhunt - Gretchen Felker-Martin - Now for something completely different. Found it on the horror shelf. Not so much scary as it is very gorey. The premise is it's been several years since a disease ended the world as we know it and turned most AMAB people into cannibalistic monsters. The story follows two trans women, and a trans man as they fight their way through an organization of TERFS and some really spoiled rich women to try to find a place they belong among this madness. Also, they kill feral men and eat their balls which apparentely keeps them from suffering the same fate as other AMAB people (there is probably science in the book but I read that part long enough ago that I don't remember it). Not a stand alone but I have to mention The Thursday Murder Club series by Richard Oseman. You can absolutely just read the first one and never move onto the second. I hate mysteries, I adore these books. They're about four 75+ year olds who live in a retirement village in England who get together every Thursday to try to solve cold case murders. And then...a murder happens basically on their doorstep so they decide they're going to solve a REAL murder. Hysterical, heartbreaking at times, the characters feel like real people. The plots are unpredicitable and complicated but not unrealistically. It is not my usual thing, but the 4th one in the series is my only 5 star read so far this year. I cannot say enough good things about it.

And, not a book I read super recently but: Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica. It's a book with an obvious agenda which always knocks things down a couple pegs. But reading it was like watching a car crash I couldn't look away from. The modern version of The Jungle but intentionally a horror book instead of just accidentally one. It's about the not so distant future where humans are farmed for meat instead of animals. It follows a man who works in the meat industry as he grapples with the morality of what he's doing. I can't say it an amazingly well written book, but it is deliciously fucked up which is sometimes all you need for a good read. It's also a very quick read. I read it a couple of years ago and it has stayed with me. It really feels on par with golden age sci-fi to me (1984, Fahrenheit 451) it just has that vibe (which I really like, so maybe that's why I love it). And if you're in the mood for some feel good realism that isn't a romance book, The Last Chance Library by Freya Sampson made me tear up several times during the book both for happy reasons and sad. It's about a painfully shy small town library assistant who has to figure out how to stand up for herself (and a lot of other people) when her library is threatened with closure. Maybe I just loved it because it was about libraries but it was just warm and fuzzy and also heartbreaking and infuriating (I did want to shake the MC several times, and/or slap her to snap her out of her bullshit, but I don't think that's a bad thing). I will stop now before I rant about books for literal years. But if anyone EVER wants to talk books with me I am more than happy to chat about them, give recs if I can, scream about how bad something is (I have to hate read a few books every year, I just have to).

[markofcastiel]

Dean can't believe he was stupid enough to let himself get caught.

He thinks of Cas. He thinks of how beautiful his husband had looked the previous morning, with his wide beaming smile when Dean greeted him with nuzzled kisses and an "hello sunshine". He thinks of that evening, of blue eyes solemn for some unknown reason.

"You're going on another trip?"

"Yes," Dean had lied, far too conscious of the sniper gun neatly tucked away into his duffel bag, "client trip."

It was a ruse, of course. He had never told Cas about his real job. He couldn't. Hell, he's not even sure if Cas could live with the kind of man who killed in cold blood with the same ease as having a cup of coffee.

"They're pushing you too hard," Cas had muttered, "maybe it's time you find something else, Dean. There are other jobs out there."

The reality was, Dean didn't know how to do anything else. Instead of confessing that, Dean had just smirked and winked.

"None that pay as good."

Usually Cas would leave it at that, wouldn't push further. This time the blue eyes had turned painfully big.

"I don't care about the money, Dean. I just want you. Please... can't you tell them you can't make it? We'll find something else. We'll be ok."

Dean had hesitated. He really had. But he could still hear in his head his handler's description of the target: the awful, terrible things Alistair had done, how he tortured his victims, how dangerous he seemed. Yes, Dean did it for the money. But knowing a monster like that was out there made his blood boil. How many more people would die by Alistair's hands if no one plucked that chance from him?

Dean was not even entirely sure what would have happened if he had called back his handler and told him he wouldn't take the job after all. Years have passed hearing that hushed distorted voice over burn phones, and yet he still didn't know a thing about The Angel.

"Dean." The warm hand on his shoulder pulled him back to reality, and Castiel's all seeing eyes had still been on him. "Will you stay?"

"Ok..." Dean had whispered but, before Castiel's eyes could turn any happier and relieved, he had added: "But I need to do this last one. Then I'll tell them I quit."

Dean coughs up another bout of blood, head falling forward before it's pulled back up by his torturer's hands. Alistair just grins wide, his putrid teeth slowly becoming the banner of Dean's horror. Dean is sure that, even if somehow he managed to get out of this, he would have nightmares of this man - this monster. But he doesn't think he can get out of this one. His hands, feet and body are tightly bound, and he's far too weak to attempt an escape. The whole room swirls, smelling of sweat and iron, and he can barely keep his eyes open. Actually, he's sure: he can't get out of this one. He's going to die here. He feels the thick red taste of despair on his lips, and the warmth of regret pooling in his eyes.

Oh god.

Dean felt so foolish now for not listening to Cas. His last words to his husband flashed through his mind, hurting harder and deeper than any torture Alistair had conceived.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

His husband would never know that he had died here. Would Cas search for him? Would Cas spend the rest of his life aimlessly trying to find him? Or would he hate him, thinking Dean had abandoned him without a word?

A tear tracks down his face, lonely and exhausted. Alistair's smirk widens at the sight, and he twists the blade against Dean's ribs further.

Dean thinks of The Angel.

His handler was always cold and distant, a static-filled buzz over a crappy burner phone mic. Still, Dean trusts him enough to tell Cas he's dead. Maybe he'd come up with some wild cover story: car crash, freak accident, or even just 'he had a bad taco'. Whatever it was, he hopes it would give his husband some small amount of peace, and a fake grave to mourn him.

Darkness starts creeping at the edges of his vision, and he gives in, letting it take him under.

---

Dean doesn't remember passing out but he wakes up to a crackling thud. He sees a shadow, hears the whisper of three surefire shots, and witnesses Alistair's brain decorating the walls in slow motion.

Then suddenly his vision is swimming with Cas, all beautiful, all perfect, his everything. Except, it can't be Cas. There are no signs of the ratty sweaters that are too big for him, or of that gentle smile, or of that soft gaze in dreamy blues - no, it's all sleek black clothes, blood on his right cheek, and murderous rage at the tip of silencer-equipped Glock. Incredibly sexy, devastatingly handsome, and all too unrealistic. Dean must be dreaming.

Or maybe he's already dead.

But then Cas is rushing towards him, freeing him, and, between loose black bangs dyed in oozing red, there is that look only Cas could ever give him - that look like Dean hung the moon, like he's precious and beautiful and loved. He registers that Cas is speaking, but he can't make out the words through the pain and loss of blood.

Once he's finally in the medical van and pumped up with pain killers, with Garth's expert hands working to minimize the damage, the fog in his brain starts to clear.

"Dean Winchester is saved," he hears Cas saying over the comms.

"Tell them he should make a full recovery," Garth pipes in cheerfully, but Cas casts him a dangerous look before pressing on.

"Hunter and Angel out of commission. Do not contact again. Over and out."

Dean's eyes widen, his hazy brain slowly making the connection.

"You - Cas, you're my handler?"

Cas takes the little earpiece he had been holding and lets it drop to the floor, crushing it with his foot. Finally, he turns back to look at Dean, his hair tousled and wild, eyes a mysterious sort of blue.

"Someone had to watch over you."

Castiel's voice was low and rough, not crisp and emotionless as it had been over burner phones, and he comes closer to Dean, gently wrapping a hand over his. "I was going to tell you as soon as I got the assignment and, to my surprise, saw your face plastered on the file. But you seemed so reluctant to tell me, that I felt wise to let you keep your secrets."

"Cas... I wanted to tell you so bad. But I -"

Dean trails off, speechless. How can you tell the person you love most that you kill people for a living? That the very touch of you corrupts? That there's blood in your hands and all you can do well is destroy? A single tear manages to flee the tightly contained bottle of his emotions.

Cas had known.

Cas had known all along and still chose to marry Dean.

His angel reaches out, gentle fingers wiping away the tears that were now rivers, impossibly loving eyes still staring back at him. When Cas speaks, it's like hearing his favorite music on the radio, it's like a glass of water after going through the desert:

"I know..." Cas looks at him like he can see right through. "I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself as just a killer, an assassin who takes lives. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. And you think that hate and anger, that's... that's what drives you, that's who you are."

Cas squeezes his hand tighter, shaking his head.

"It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. The assignments you choose, how they are always bad people, evil people who do unspeakable things. You kill them for love. Because people like that killed your mom. People like that killed your little brother. And you don't want anyone, ever, to be hurt like you've been hurt. Even if it means carrying that burden. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know."

Dean can't help the sob that drags out and he closes his eyes, leaning into the warmth of Cas - forever like a sun that never burns to the touch. He didn't know love could be like this, all consuming and all encompassing. Castiel's words fill his heart to the brim, and he's sure it's going to overflood, but Castiel doesn't stop:

"Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about what was good, what was right... I cared about the whole world because of you."

Dean slowly blinks open to find blue eyes moist with tears.

"You changed me, Dean."

And, just like that, Dean moves, heart monitor beeping and wires stretching, and he's kissing Cas like a man who just found home, like the sea rolling on the shore, like the moon tugging the tides.

"Cas..."

Dean feels brave, and free, and though he hates flying he thinks he's high on the sky, held firmly by Castiel's wings. So, before he dips back into Cas' lips, he utters a simple confession that holds more weight than the very world:

"I love you."

Your spouse is leading a secret double life as an assassin, trying their best to keep it secret from you. This has never really worked, because, unbeknownst to them, you are actually their handler.