#like back and forth and back and for I was like kid for the love of god please leave

[lostintransist]

CW: Angst. Hurt/No Comfort. Yeah I'm going through some shit but my therapist says that 'you should keep writing, it really seems to help you.' 🤷.

"I won't beg for love from you," your words drop between your body and his. "Not for me, or for them."

Your heart clawed at the inside of your ribs. Trying for escape. It wasn't just your current needs, it was all the ones built up from childhood. No one noticed you. You weren't worth any attention unless you were doing something bad or getting stellar grades. Getting hit, disciplined they called it, never sat right with you. It was the same feeling that kept you from turning to anorexia or bulimia to deal with the complete lack of control, autonomy, choices, you had, or didn't has it actually turned out.

Coming into a relationship with children would always present a challenge. Your kids had a dad, a pretty good one at that. They didn't need another one, but they deserved love from all corners of their life. That included your boyfriend. Or so you thought.

He seemed to disagree.

He stared at you, work face firmly in place. Not a single thought flickered in his eyes as you laid his sins and your aches at his feet.

"They already get passed over by their aunts and uncles for being too much," your emotions are clogging the sounds in trying to escape. "No one will admit it but they don't like my kids, too loud, too emotional, too...too much like me.

You don't have to parent them, that's not your job. They have a dad. I won't accept you rebuffing them though. You knew this when you agreed to be with me, said you understood why I held back from you meeting them because they deserve safety and someone who gives them time, not just money. This wouldn't hurt so bad if you didn't spend an excess amount of time taking your nieces on trips and ignoring my kids unless they are right in front of you. Which, mind you, doesn't happen often as you specifically schedule time with me when they are with their dad."

Your knuckles ache from the force of keeping them from curling. You wanted to hit something, him preferably.

"I can't do this anymore. I already cry myself to sleep over ever birthday party invitation that doesn't make it to my inbox. They can all invite my former mother-in-law who isn't on Facebook. But me? A quick text of even just a picture of the party invite? Can't do it. The pictures I see by accident of the other kids getting love and attention from their childless aunt or even the ones you forget to put in a folder and not in your general photos before showing me something on your phone."

He steps forward now, called forth by the tears you can not longer dam. The hand thrown between you is treated as firm a barrier as the border between North and South Korea. Staring at the back of your left hand stuck between your bodies, your breath catches as you let go of the idea of his ring there.

"Love on other people's conditions is not something I am willing to accept more of." Your hand falls to your side, hanging listless. "I'm sorry."

Turning and walking away feels like peeling the skin from the back of your neck.

He finds his voice now. It cracks on your name as he calls after you.

Flicking a hand over your shoulder you keep moving.

Alone is better than love that hurts.

Masterlist

[melk-maid]

warnings: everyone is aged up 21+, afab/gn reader, puppy play (caleb is the puppy), dry humping, praise kink, cumming in his pants, collaring, pussy juice licking, dom/sub dynamics, caleb isn't allowed to speak human or stand synopsis: you caught caleb in one of his many lies and decide to punish him with isolation for a few days. desperate to make you talk to him, caleb asks and pleads with how he can make you forgive him.

note: puppy boy caleb means the whole world to me!! he really is just a big golden retriever and i love he!!! enjoy~♡ tags: @samaraxmorgan minors & ageless blogs dni - you will be blocked

Caleb held back tears at the entrance of your living room, arms crossed over his chest with a furrow in his brow. His voice was playful—a feeble attempt to seem like he isn't affected by your isolation and silence over the last few days.

"I thought something happened while I was gone," he says. "Normally you answer me pretty fast, or text me you're busy so I know you're safe."

Biting your tongue, you continue to ignore Caleb, pretending he wasn't in the room. The book in your hands seems to be very intriguing—your eyes have almost glazed over and the words are melting together into a blur. It's taking all your concentration not to give in and acknowledge the grown man almost throwing a tantrum in your home.

He sighs through his nose, a short huff, before socked feet bound over towards the couch and the book was snatched from your hands. Caleb sings your name. Leaning down to be in your line of sight, you can see the sorrow in his eyes. Worry and fatigue drowns violet. The look on his face squeezes at your heart.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?"

His tone is much quieter. Sorrow begins to betray him; it makes itself known to you. All the playfulness of Caleb slowly floats away like dandelion seeds in the wind.

You are still mad at him, but not as much as you're making it seem. Caleb lies to you all the time; either you see through his lies or uncover the truth. It's a nasty habit he's held onto since you were kids, varying in degrees of severity and reason. Sometimes you let it go, and other times you insist on punishing him.

Since you're being forced to look at him, you stare directly at Caleb, holding a response in the back of your throat. You inhale deep and move to stand from the couch, only for him to intercept you with his body. Large arms cage you on either side to keep you in place—except you don't care to use your own body to escape. He's warm and sturdy under your touch, a small flinch in his taut muscles.

Before you can push Caleb out of your way, there's a familiar force weighing you down. It's not enough to hurt but you definitely can't move.

"Caleb." You warn.

"Ah, so you can speak." He grins. "Thought a wanderer cut your tongue out."

The use of his evol restricts you from crossing your arms in defiance. "Let me go."

A moment passes and Caleb's evol still keeps you in place; as though a pile of blankets are draped over your head. You stare up at him until the sensation disappears.

"I told you I was sorry." Caleb sighs as he stands straight. "What more can I do to make you forgive me?"

It's true, he did say sorry—in various different ways. The beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase at the window; a new, fancy notebook; there's a sorry in all the fresh groceries that stock your kitchen, all courtesy of Caleb.

"I'm not sure," You admit and lean back on the couch, avoiding his gaze to keep yourself from smiling. Anyone else would consider this evil, especially when you had already forgiven him for the most part.

Anxiously awaiting a response, Caleb lowers to his knees, arms resting on the couch at either side of your legs. His thumbs find your hips, gently stroking back and forth the peek of skin beneath your shirt. Resting his head against your leg, he adds, "Anything you want, pipsqueak. Just as long as you talk to me again."

Your hand finds his hair almost instinctually, threading your fingers through soft, brown locks. Caleb leans into it with a light moan, rubbing his cheek all along your thigh; his eyes fall closed as he relishes in the feeling. A small smile crawls onto your face. He's so cute like this, almost like a puppy…

"I have an idea." You say and Caleb's head perks up, smiling wide when you can't help but laugh at him. "Go get your collar."

Something flashes across his face. It's fast; blink and you could've missed it. Before you can ruminate on it, he's on his feet again, bounding towards your bedroom. Caleb returns quickly with the aforementioned collar. Without any further instructions, he's on his knees at your feet.

"Good boy," You coo while taking the collar from him. The praise makes him beam, inching closer to your knees until his chest is pressed against them.

You wrap the collar around Caleb's neck and he tilts his head down to give you room to fasten it—snug against his throat. The hands that tied the accessory around him linger, tracing the thread in black leather, hooking your fingers in the decorative silver hoops. He watches you with baited breath, patiently waiting for your next instruction. Your touch is soft on his cheek, cool against the burning of his skin. Flushed and excited. Always so eager to please.

"Go grab me a pen, sweetheart." You instruct. When Caleb moves to stand, you click your tongue. "Puppies like you don't stand on two feet, do they?"

He grins and plants his hands on the floor. You ignore the playful roll of his eyes and watch him crawl across the living room towards a cabinet. It's entertaining watching his big, hulking body crawl like this, feet lamely dragged behind him, his fat ass shaking intentionally with each motion. Caleb stands on his knees at the wooden furniture, reaching out for a pen with his mouth like a dog would.

Flopping back down onto his hands, Caleb practically wiggles his hips at your praise. "Good boy! I didn't have to tell you how to do it right, you're so smart."

There's a spark in his eyes and a curl of his lips around the pen, holding his head up high as he crawls back at your feet, dropping the pen in your lap and nuzzling his face against your thigh. Your praise means the world to him; it heals his heart from the loneliness you tormented him with.

"I didn't need a pen, I just wanted to see your ass." You admit while petting Caleb, giggling at the way his cheeks grow pink, smiling and looking up at you like you hung the stars.

This is what he'd been yearning for over the last few days. You had isolated yourself from him and in turn, Caleb felt like he was being torn apart limb by limb. His heart broke into dozens of pieces, a dark, swirling sense of grief had made a home in his chest. You were so close yet so far, and all he could ever think about was your smile.

"You're still not forgiven," You continue and that hand in his hair slowly pulls away. "You lied to me, remember?"

Caleb frowns—rather, he pouts. Leaning his chin on your knee, he musters up the best puppy dog face he could. "I did it for you…"

"You did it for yourself." He winces at your harsh tone. "It's bad enough you were talking to him, then you had to go and lie to me about it when I gave you the chance."

As you speak, your foot begins to grind over Caleb's crotch. His eyelid twitches, arching his back ever so slightly to lean into you. Slowly moving back and forth, you can feel him slowly hardening under your touch. All the while, your face remains stern. "He came to talk to me; I told you that before." Caleb bites back, crumbling when you press into his half-hard cock with the ball of your foot.

"Just because someone talks to you, doesn't mean you should have a conversation with them. Especially when it's my ex boyfriend."

Caleb pushes his cock into you, grabbing ahold of your leg to maintain the pressure. You flatten your foot, leaving him to chase after the feeling.

When he opens his mouth to say something else, you're quick to stop him in his tracks. "Anyway, puppies don't speak like humans do."

His jaw clicks shut, a light furrow of his brow—all while his hips slowly rock into your leg. Cheeks flush pink with shiny spit that coats his lips; so cute and obedient. You raise an eyebrow, reaching out to stroke his cheek again. Caleb understands and proceeds to bark like a dog.

"Woof."

"Is that so?" You hum and move to pet his hair.

"Woof woof!"

"Get yourself off on my leg then, and I might just believe you, little puppy."

Caleb tightens his grip on you, moaning as he pushes his hips into you with one long stroke. His hardness squeezed between your leg and his body, throbbing with need for something more substantial. Violet eyes stare at you with every thrust, begging for attention, craving validation.

You watch stoic as he gets himself off. It's all on him; you don't move a muscle to help. Periodically, you pet his hair and coo at him, complimenting the cute puppy before you. But beyond that, you're motionless—and it almost drives him to the point of insanity.

The blush on his cheeks continues to bloom across his face, darkening in colour and softening his harsh features. His eyebrows curl up in the centre of his face as he moans, leaning closer to you, pressing the entirety of his chest against your leg. You struggle to hold back a smile when he leans in to kiss you, catching your chin when you pull back into the couch.

"Does it feel good?" You ask when he rests his head against your chest, rutting his hips into your leg with pathetic whines.

Caleb nods against you, humming and pulling your leg impossibly closer, trying to get a good angle that allows him to remain close. You ignore his moans of your name, letting them slip since your puppy is being so well behaved.

"Do you regret what you did?" Caleb whimpers, one hand wrapped around your calf and the other groping your chest. "I can't hear you…"

He pulls back, a string of drool maintaining connection between his lips and your shirt. Dark, wet eyes gaze at you, "Woof."

When you smile at him, Caleb moans and leans down and proceeds to bury his face in your crotch. It's an awkward angle that he has to move back from, but that doesn't stop him from pulling your leg how he wants, ensuring he gets off on your leg like you commanded. You hear him sniff deep, exhaling through his mouth with a groan.

"You wanna taste, puppy?" You coo, a hand in his hair and the gentle tug makes his eyes roll. Slipping your hand down your pants, you rub a finger all between your lips, sliding with ease to collect your arousal. Caleb could smell it through your pants but now? He was drooling like a dog. "Here. Stick out your tongue, baby."

The muscle rolls out from between his lips; big, long and eager to taste. You press your wet finger on the flat of his tongue, stroking and rolling the digit around his palate. Caleb moans, pushing his hips firmly into you, his eyes fluttering closed just like his lips. You're quick to pull away and scold him.

"Puppies don't suck, do they Caleb?"

His name rolling off of your tongue like that is angelic. It makes his cock throb and leak against the waistband of his boxers, his fingertips grow weak where they hold onto you, but he fears you'll drift away again if he lets go. His eyes are half open when his tongue rolls out again, lapping slowly at your finger this time.

'Good boy," You hum before going back in to give him more.

It was only a little of your essence he could taste, but Caleb made it work. It was enough to have him panting for more, whining when you take a little too long with your hand in your pants, humping your leg harder when he grows close to his release. He lets you do whatever you want to him; tug on his hair when he's being impatient, scold him where necessary, dare to slip a finger down his throat to see how he would react. Caleb took it all in stride to hear you praise him again,

When he comes, it's with a moan of your name. Caleb sucks and drools over your finger—he can't help himself. Brows furrowed as a wave of pleasure flowed through him, releasing all inside of his pants in a gross and shameful display. What's more embarrassing, is that it was through humping your leg.

Still, the way you praise and coo at him makes it all worth it. "Such a good boy…" Your words make his heart melt into a puddle of goo. You're proud and happy with him for doing as you asked, to show commitment to you despite the newly created dent in the wall of trust between you.

"Are you going to lie to me again?" You ask quietly. So sweet, holding his chin in your hand, leaning in close to brush your lips against his.

Caleb responds. "Woof."

"That wasn't very convincing…" You hum.

"Woof woof!"

The corners of your lip curl into a smile, one that Caleb mirrors. "Much better." You say, despite both of you knowing it will definitely happen again. Regularly, in fact. But you know that's just how Caleb is, he does it out of love. 

[quosterswampdregs]

I was going a bit back and forth on the idea of a folktale/fable character! I love the whimsy and style of old illustrated books but I've always been frustrated at the audience it's geared towards (love the concept of the big bad wolf if not for the fact its so kids centralized as a concept).

SOOO I wanted to make a character that is 'created by a snz creator for the snz community' that keeps that same storybook whimsy but better tailored to a snzkink and snzfetish audience!!

ANYWAY, his name is Stanley Badger, take the concept of sneezy from snow white and make it a self-standing furry folk hero who uses his wind control for good!! The vibe is like old english countryside and meadows, you get me right???

[babachira]

hoshina's day off (spoilers for s2!) (this is a long one, not properly written and def not checked i cant be mf bothered bro!) (genuinely just a bunch of delusional stuff.)

hoshina soshiro x third in command!reader

── ⟢

+ the day starts with hoshina's door swinging open, revealing you, crossed arms and weight on one leg, dressed in your casual defence force attire. today was the majority of the third division's day off. well, maybe minus the captain because she's the captain, but nonetheless, you didn't have much going on until hoshina had asked you to accompany him to the disaster prevention centre, where he had to drop off some of his old weapons.

+ you watch hoshina grab his jacket from the back of his chair before walking down the corridor together. "is it just the last one we're giving today?" you ask and he nods. "yeah, i couldn't fit everything in my car the last time, so i have to make one last round." hoshina had briefly mentioned that the director of the place requested for all of his weapons because of their new exhibition. which, honestly, why.

+ you snicker. "who'd be willing to go see any of your stuff?"

+ but you're well-aware of his snarky nature, so when he laughs, you know it's not to defend himself. most of the time, what comes out his mouth is always to talk shit about the other. "well, there's this someone who asked for one of my old swords because their custom one keeps breaking because their skills are so low."

+ you knew it. "and that somebody will absolutely break your back right now."

+ "with that crusty musty weapon? s'not my back that'll get broken."

+ you nudge his arm. "shut up." and with this, he just shakes his head and quickly steals a kiss. you don't miss that small smile on his features. "well, at least you're not 1% like kafka."

+ once you're out of the building, the two of you fall into a stable back and forth contest of bickering until you see a familiar shine of silver hair doing pull-ups on the bars. you pause before tapping hoshina on the shoulder and pointing towards the person, who you assume to be ichikawa reno. "look at that. he's doing all this on his day-off."

+ hoshina bursts out laughing and immediately, ichikawa's head (you were right) snaps towards you, the shade of his cheeks slowly blossoming into a rosy pink as he drops from the bars rather sheepishly. he salutes as the two of you approach, hoshina still guffawing over this poor boy. "vice-captain hoshina. chief officer (l/n)!"

+ "hi, reno!" you wave before slapping hoshina's arm with a small click of your tongue. "stop it now!" but he doesn't and ichikawa continues to stand there awkwardly, honestly wondering why his vice-cap is clutching his stomach over . . . something so trivially not funny. you choose to ignore hoshina and look at ichikawa instead. "still training on your day off? that's rather impressive."

+ "he doesn't know what to do on his day off!" hoshina shakes, pointing rather too directly at the kid, who makes subtle eye twitches at you as a small cry for help. his eyebrows droop rather slowly as you shrug because you know that once hoshina falls into the pit of his humour, there's no way of stopping him until his tears are dried out from laughing. "i'm sorry, reno. i'll beat some sense into him later."

+ "are you two going somewhere?" ichikawa asks and you nod. "yeah, the vice-captain has an errand to run and i'm only accompanying him. it's nothing major." judging by the way ichikawa's hands are politely gesturing the both of you, you can only assume that he was basically asking if this was a date between his seniors. you and hoshina are no secret, but sometimes, work comes barging through your life so often that you never have the chance to do anything together, nor do people ever comment on your dynamic as much as they did before. so, it sort of means something when ichikawa's small nuance of his question is thrown into the air like that.

+ "i'd never take our lovely chief officer on a date so miserable as this," hoshina says, his laughing days over as he puts his hands back in his pockets. "ichikawa, when you find someone, just don't."

+ ichikawa furrows his brows and gently tilts his head to the side. it's like you can see a physical question mark floating above his head. "like, don't have bad dates or . . ."

+ you purse your lips. "he's calling me an asshole and that you, of all people, should not find an asshole. i fully agree." you jab your thumb at hoshina, who has that filthy grin on his face. "never go for losers like this guy."

+ "i am your superior officer, you know."

+ "and that's why we should get going!" with a final wave, you whisk hoshina out of the field and into the parking lot where his yellow mini awaits. you can't count how many times you've talked about the colour of his car because it's that hideous, but no matter what you say about getting a new one, which he is fully capable of doing, he rejects all your statements. "get in before i make you walk behind me."

+ "oh, boy, he's driving us today," you say, buckling your seatbelt while hoshina closes his side of the door. he hands his phone over to you while he reaches down to adjust his seat, and whilst all of this fiddling and fuddling happens, you press the 'START' button next to the steering wheel, settling back into your seat once you feel the car hum to life. hoshina looks up, unbothered and unsurprised.

+ "i helped turn on the car," you say rather proudly, but hoshina snickers. again. "aw, it's good to know you can read basic words." he takes the gear off park and soon enough, you find yourself on the road.

+ you've had drives with hoshina before and it's safe to say that all of them were pleasant. everything including the brutal remarks you make about each other is what makes your bond that special. honestly, when hoshina had preached to the new recruits that they shouldn't meddle too deeply in relationships because you never know what can happen on the battlefield, you remember feeling a small tear in your heart and the constant shut-downs of your feelings because if it was the vice-captain who said that, there would have been no way.

+ it's after that, though. after months of fleeting glances, the short lingers on the calls during missions, the extra 'good luck' and 'stay safe' that he claimed were reserved for his favourites and your rise to the rank that made you, hoshina and ashiro the third division trinity, you found hoshina leaning just centimetres away from you, mumbling about he couldn't lie to himself anymore and that he hates going back on his word, but it's this one time that he'd have to forgive himself because he needs you.

+ whenever people look at hoshina, the first thing that tends to come to mind is his unwavering battle mentality on the frontlines. the way his entire aura shifts into something you can't tame. to them, it's always vice-captain hoshina.

+ but to you and in these moments where it's just two people who hold each other above anything else, the vice-captain of the third division simply becomes hoshina soshiro, the man who is so unbelievably determined to slide a ring on your finger, but it's these damn monsters that are stopping him from doing so. you find it funny whenever he grumbles about that, but then again, it's not hoshina soshiro when he's also making fun of the same thing.

+ "you have such a lame surname, soshiro," you laughed once as you were wrapping up after a training session. hoshina just snorted. "what, you think (l/n) is any better?" you were cleaning your weapon with a huff. "it's (l/n) (f/n) that makes it sound good, you know. names are meant to go well with each other." and it was then, when hoshina smugly said, "fine. what about hoshina (f/n)?"

+ "why are you smiling to yourself like a creep?" you snap back out of your fond memory and to your surprise, you don't realise that you've arrived at another parking lot, this time, a lot larger than the one outside the defence force. it's busy too. hoshina keeps going up more levels until finally, an elderly man beckons him over, happily stating that he's about to leave.

+ you glance at hoshina and he has one hand on the back of your seat as he reverse parks into a space that's near the entrance door. "i thought we were going to the prevention centre."

+ "we are," he answers, shifting the gear into the parking position. he unbuckles his seatbelt and clicks open the door. "after we get something for captain ashiro."

+ you blink. you can only think of one thing. "dried squid?"

+ "dried squid."

+ it's even busier than you thought as you deftly avoid a box that almost bludgeoned your head. turns out there's some sort of hokkaido product sale, so everyone's itching to buy something that they can take home and hopefully share with their families. you slip your hand into the crook of hoshina's arm and quickly follow him into the crowd and soon, you find yourself standing in front of a stool that sells captain ashiro's favourite snack.

+ while hoshina engages in small talk with the man hosting the stall, you crane your neck to look around at the selling goods. there are souvenirs, packaged snacks, pet food and all sorts of other things, but above all that, you catch two figures from the corner of your eye scuttling behind a wall that had a huge advert draped over it. for a second, they seemed desperate in a flurry of limbs trying to hide. you squint and you swear you can see a tuft of pink hair.

+ "what are you looking at?" you feel hoshina's eyes on the back of your head, but you don't stop staring. "i can bet all my money that no one has the same colour hair as iharu."

+ hoshina chortles. "you just noticed?"

+ much to your dismay, a small crowd blocks your vision, but hoshina leaves the stall at the same time, so you have no choice but to follow. he takes out his phone and dials a familiar number, but before he starts speaking, he grins at you. "don't make it too obvious, it's fun that they think we don't know." then he returns to his call. "ah, yes, captain ashiro. i've acquired the top-quality dried squid snacks."

+ "we came here to buy squid snacks and also find out we're being tailed by two . . . " you trail off to yourself as hoshina is still occupied by the call. you look back at where you thought you saw furuhashi─no, you know you saw that flash of salmon-coloured hair and you know that's no other than your biggest fan. "two idiots . . . "

+ you feel a tickle on your ear. "let's go." hoshina places his hand on the small of your back and quickly guides you out of the market. "like i said, don't make it obvious. act as if you haven't seen them."

+ "what, you wanna toy around with them?" you ask, tucking your hand into his arm again. he nods with a sly smile. "how else will we enjoy our 'date'?"

+ now fuelled with the unhelpful knowledge that ichikawa and furuhashi were stalking you, you find yourself agreeing to hoshina's 'devious' plan, when it really isn't, to mess around with them. driving out of the parking lot, he starts by listing a bunch of punishments that he has lined up for them tomorrow, such as the push-ups of hell, having captain ashiro's cooking or something a bit more mild, toilet cleaning.

+ "you know, soshiro," you begin, waiting for his little 'hm?' to know that he's listening. "you're an awful senior. i can't believe you're so excited to give them punishments." hoshina laughs and you know that he means it. "what? it's the most fun and harmless way to see them struggle. do you want something more gruesome? should i send them on a mission without their suits and weapons?" you tut and shake your head, folding your arms as you watch a car overtake you. "i feel bad for kafka that even with the 1%, he still has to deal with your stupid─wait, is that kikoru and akari?"

+ hoshina looks to where you're pointing and true to your words, kikoru, akari and hakua are standing next to a taxi pick-up point with no taxi in sight.

+ "did they book a taxi or are they just waiting?" hoshina asks, slowing down. you continue pointing. "your yellow car looks like a taxi anyway. we can be their taxi." you instruct hoshina to stop and roll down your window. with a small coo, you twiddle your fingers to get their attention. kikoru perks up and instantly, she bows. "chief officer! vice-captain! what brings you here?"

+ you smile. "hey, you guys look like like lost sheep. is something the matter?" you take note of how the girls look nervous or apologetic, you can't tell which one it is, but you're sure it's hoshina's fault. "soshiro, stop being scary and let them speak!"

+ "i'm not doing anything," he laughs. he leans over and rests his chin on your shoulder before he calls out to the girls. "where're you guys headed?"

+ kikoru itches her chin and lets out a nervous sigh. "well, we made a lunch reservation, but we're running a bit late and there isn't a taxi that's stopping for us either." immediately, you swivel around to face hoshina, who's forced to dodge so that your noses don't collide. "soshiro, transform your yellow car into a taxi. let's take these girls. they cannot miss this lunch reservation."

+ "we couldn't possibly impose!" akari cries, but you bring your finger to your lips. "shh, it's ok. our great vice-captain doesn't mind. come on, get in!" half your body dangles out the window as you usher them into the car and once hakua closes the door, hoshina starts driving off.

+ you subtly look in the rear mirror and see that akari has her knees pressed together, kikoru is fiddling with her thumbs and hakua has her window rolled down, hair flying everywhere as the wind carves into her face. bless them, they're probably nervous because they've never sat so close to their senior officers before. you attempt to ease the tension by turning around in your seat with a beam on your face. "what are you gonna eat?"

+ it's probably because she sees you more often than hoshina that kikoru's shoulders sags a little, her eyes glimmering as you give her your undivided attention. "okonomiyaki!"

+ "hoh, okonomiyaki?" hoshina repeats, turning the blinker on. your body slowly slides left as the car veers into a sharp turn. "there aren't a lot of restaurants that serve that around here. how'd you find this one?"

+ kikoru whips out her phone and begins to scroll before she almost shoves it in your face. "it just opened and there are so many good reviews about it!" you tap on an image of the menu and zoom in. "oh, they seem to know what they're doing. what do you think, kansai occupier?" you take kikoru's phone and click on their main special, enlarging it so that hoshina can see even through his constantly-closed eyes. he takes a second to observe the picture and lets out a hum of approval. "well, as a kansai occupier, it seems to be the real deal."

+ "it looks sooo good," hakua groans, patting her stomach. "i'm so excited to have some." you pass the phone back to kikoru, who places it back in her bag. "well, i hope you guys enjoy it. make sure to take some pictures, so i can see!"

+ hakua giggles. "will you be going with the vice-captain?" she asks, unable to hide the cheeky grin that accompanied her question. you scoff, turning back to face the front. "absolutely not. what makes you think i'd spend my money on hoshina soshiro?"

+ "again, i still am your superior officer."

+ the girls laugh heartily and you continue to exchange friendly conversation until hoshina pulls up outside the restaurant. they quickly gather their things, checking to see they haven't left anything behind before they fumble out the car in a hurry. "thank you so much!" kikoru and akari bow while hakua salutes and with one last wave, you're back on the road with just hoshina.

+ "just so you know, i'd take you to the best restaurant out there," hoshina says, but there's a hint of teasing in his tone. "i'd make you pay, of course."

+ you gape. "little shit, you're the one who gets paid more than me, so you should get the bill all the time." but hoshina only laughs at your comeback.

+ after a few more minutes of driving, hoshina parks his car, again, at a much smaller place this time. you seem to be in the middle of town as the streets are filled with cafes, shops and people enjoying their time out in the sun. you shut the door behind you and once you hear the engine turn off, you follow hoshina into the town centre. it's been a while since the two of you had a private moment out in the open like this, where you're having a calm walk with the presence of each other. obviously, you'd have schedules that clashed with each other, but it wasn't ever planned or you could never do something meaningful. it terrifies you that you can never predict what will happen because this world is cruel and merciless, ignorant of the connections you have with people, so you always remind yourself that every single moment with anyone, with hoshina, is always so important.

+ "are you hungry?" hoshina asks, his hands ghosting the figure of your waist. "we could grab a bite somewhere?"

+ you check your watch, and for absolutely no reason too because it's not like you have to be at the prevention centre for a certain time. "yeah, i could eat. what do you fancy?" hoshina stops walking and places a finger on his chin. "ramen?"

+ "i'd take you to the best restaurants out there, my ass." and again, your ears are blessed, or cursed with hoshina's boisterous laughter.

+ you're not surprised that the entirety of tokyo knows who hoshina soshiro, the vice-captain of the third division, is. as soon as you entered the restaurant, you swore the manager's eyes turned into stars. he frantically pushed you into a private booth that he only reserved for his most esteemed guests. honestly? it can be a win-win situation when you're with hoshina.

+ you slide into the seat opposite of him and before you can open your mouth to speak, the manager comes bursting in with dishes that you definitely didn't order before he flies back out again. hoshina rubs his temples, leaning back into the plush seat. it's very good quality.

+ "sometimes, i want them to calm down. i'm not a god," he says, picking up his chopsticks. "i don't want to pretend like i'm a celebrity." you offer him a small smile. "don't think that way, they just appreciate your duties. you can always tell them if it gets out of hand, but i'm sure it won't."

+ and you always get tricked into believing that on the rare occasion you say something nice to your boyfriend, he will melt into a puddle and ramble on about your angelic intentions, but to your utmost annoyance, and what should be unsurprising, hoshina's devilishly cunning grin creeps onto his face. "well, i guess it's better than being person number three like chief officer (l/n)." you pause for a second, and most would think that hoshina would tense up and apologise for how harsh his comment might have come across, but he knows that you can take it. you've always taken it.

+ you raise your chopsticks too and reach for the food. "do you ever wonder what it's like being this year's new recruits?" at this, hoshina shrugs nonchalantly. "not at all."

+ "just wondering. might ask captain ashiro to kick your ass back into demotion so i can make you clean my desk. it's got two months of unfinished paperwork, by the way," you say, chewing your food. "might be nice not hearing 'i am your superior officer' everyday like i do right now."

+ if hoshina was a cat in his past life, you'd 100% believe it. the way his lips curl alike the cheshire cat from alice in wonderland just assures you that he adopted cat-like traits because there is just no way. he leans his head on the palm of his hands as he stares at you. he pokes one eye open, probably the first time you've seen those purple hues today. "feeling brave, are we?" you shrug, feigning innocence as you reach for another piece. the food is really good, but you won't say that to hoshina.

+ "i'm always brave," you stated, and this time, you really don't know why hoshina's face, as annoyingly handsome as it is, which you will not admit, is making that expression. you put down your chopsticks. "what, am i not always brave?"

+ "hmm . . . " he taps his chin. "was it two days ago when you jumped out of your skin when a honju appeared behind you?" you will truly kill this man before a kaiju can.

+ seeing your face void of any emotion, he wags his chopsticks in front of your face. "what, was it too good a fact that you can't say anything back?"

+ you turn in your seat and pull back the curtain separating your booth from the main area of the restaurant. hoshina raises his brows. you cup your hand to your mouth and shout, "everyone! the hoshina soshiro is going to sing you a song!"

+ "EHHHHHHHEH??!"

─

+ while the restaurant owner insists on giving you the meal for free, hoshina ends up paying and the two of you venture out into the sunlight once more. not even a second after being out, hoshina's already crouched next to a ginger cat, stroking its head, back and tail before he gives it a little wave. it starts to follow you much to your happiness.

+ "it's following us!" you exclaim.

+ "it's following me."

+ you watch as the cat bounces away into the bushes until you remember that two other people are also following you. you turn back around and put your hand in one of hoshina's pockets. "they're still there. reckon they still don't know?"

+ hoshina smiles. "they have no idea."

+ it's like a day of fulfilling side quests, you think, as you watch hoshina help an american couple struggling with a map. a cat. then, you both dash into the middle of the road to help an elderly woman cross without hurting herself before she sits you down and pours you a cup of warm tea from her flask. two police officers on duty salute at you. another cat. narumi . . . gen? you question as a suspicious man in a grey hoodie walks out of a building that hoshina was patting another cat in front of. how many cats are you going to see today?

+ "soshiro, when are we getting to the centre?" you ask, swiping at your trousers that are fluffed up with cat fur of all breeds. hoshina crouches down and wipes off the last strand of ginger fur for you before he stands back up. he takes your arm and starts walking in the same direction. "soon, i'm still messing around with ichikawa and furuhashi."

+ "still?! i thought you were just going to give them a punishment!" you say. "i thought we were going to the place!" hoshina flashes a smile. "well, maybe i'm messing with you too."

+ and then finally, you wish it's the last stop. you lean against hoshina's flamboyant yellow car amidst all the dark ones in this parking lot, with one heel resting over the top of your foot. you watch as hoshina takes out three silver briefcases from his car before setting them on the ground. "are these the weapons?" you ask and he nods. "yeah, someone's coming to pick them up."

+ and as if on cue, a large black van looms above you and a man you definitely recognise steps out of the car. he has a white suit and a pink shirt etched with all sorts of colourful shapes. he walks over to you and hoshina, who stays rooted to the spot. he spares you a brief glance, but his attention is mainly on hoshina. "did you bring the stuff?" he asks and hoshina points at the briefcases. "yeah, all of 'em." and without another word, the man picks them up and gently sets them into his car. he looks back over his shoulder. "come to the rendezvous point when it's time, you sarcastic asshole."

+ and with that, he leaves you to your devices. you push yourself off the car. "i recognise him, i can't remember from where, though." hoshina places his hands on his hips and looks at the ground. "he used to be in the third division, but this was before you and i."

+ and before you can speak, a voice that you can only recognise as the one who always knocks on your office door, booms into your ears. "vice-captain! chief officer!" you and hoshina shoot up and are half-surprised to see the entire group of people you bumped into today storm towards you. at the front is furuhashi, who has tears streaming down his tears, his face scrunched and fists balled. you and hoshina exchange a quick look of 'what are they doing'.

+ "we . . . " furuhashi begins, sniffling as his tears drop to the ground. ichikawa, kikoru, and even kagaguri and izumo stand behind him, their faces distorted into what you can only believe is vivid disappointment. "we thought you were on a date!"

+ you . . . that was not what you were expecting, but ok. it's like furuhashi's tears get bigger and bigger with every word coming out of his mouth. "we thought . . . that the vice-cap and chief officer were enjoying their day off together, but no!"

+ sighing, you take a step forward, your shoulder bumping into hoshina's back. "iharu, you're─"

+ "i don't want to hear it!" furuhashi shouts. akari flinches and even ichikawa looks numb. his eyes are drilled to the ground as he tries his best not to sniffle. "i'm so . . . i'm so disappointed . . . how can you do this to us?!"

+ and suddenly, you jolt forward, but you catch yourself before you can fall. furuhashi gasps and hoshina whips around, but you don't feel pain, just small hands around your waist and the sound of giggles coming from below. you look down and see a girl no older than six with a toothy smile. she stares at you with twinkling eyes, the smile never fading. "the chief . . . she's prettier in person!"

+ another boy practically jumps onto hoshina's back. "it's vice-captain hoshina!" he laughs, clinging onto him like a koala stuck to a tree. then, unbeknownst to you, more and more children appear like a flock of sheep surrounding their shepherd. some reach for kikoru and ichikawa, and one boy laughs at furuhashi for crying to which he sucks them back up immediately.

+ "he's so cool!" the children say in awe. the girl latched onto you still hasn't let go and right now, you're more confused than blessed or happy, but you crouch down all the same to meet her at eye-level. you tuck a strand of hair behind the child's ears and smile. "where did you come from?" the girl, who appears to be practically in love with you, eagerly points at a building behind everyone. it says in bold letters 'tachikawa disaster prevention centre' and you see that at the entrance, there's a huge banner with an enthusiastic motto and an even more enthusiastic looking picture of hoshina. "you came from in there?" the girl nods vigorously.

+ you stand up. "come on, everyone, let's go inside."

+ a chorus of 'wow' and 'woah' fills the room as you find yourself surrounded by tons of swords, play areas, interactive screens and even an earthquake simulation that seem to make your group not so big at all.

+ it all looks so well furnished and new. there's a small ball pit on the far right side of the room with slides and tunnels that you wish you had the luxury of having when you were a child.

+ "ah! hoshina-san!" a man donned in a grey suit with narrow glasses enters through one of the side doors. he clasps his hands together as he makes his way over to your party. "and (l/n)-san also! what a wonderful surprise! i cannot thank you both for coming all the way here today!" he beams. "thank you so much for your donation, hoshina-san! now, we have finally completed our exhibition!"

+ it's now, when a big lightbulb forms in furuhashi's head and he realises that he's just made the biggest black market accusation of all time. he's going to have to wrack through his brain to think of a decent apology for that now.

+ you pat the little girl's head, who's still attached to your hip, as you bow. "the president of this institution, right?" you asked and the man nods. he reaches for your hand, which you shake gratefully.

+ "yes, i am! and i'm pleased to announce that our facility is now open to the public! please come this way!"

+ he babbles about their most popular attractions like the ashiro mina sniper experience, but realistically, the one that catches everyone's eye is the new virtual hoshina soshiro, which has four brand new-looking vr headsets neatly placed on a table. the president looks at you and gestures towards the table. "(l/n)-san, would you take the honour of being our first participant?"

+ you point at yourself. "me?"

+ the president nods as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "yes! if you do not mind!"

+ you look back and see hoshina staring. he shrugs, but you can kind of tell that he wants it to be you. it probably isn't a big deal that there's a goddamn virtual hoshina soshiro, but deep down, if it is about him and if it is an experience of being in his perspective, he wants it to be you that sees it first.

+ you let out a soft laugh. "why not? i'll give it a try. tell me how i should get ready!"

+ and as the hour goes on, your group splits off into pairs either with each other or with the children. kikoru enters the earthquake simulation while reno and hakua help with the water experience. the room resounds with innocent laughter of children having the time of their lives, so you step back and watch everything unfold.

+ hoshina finds you leaning against the table of the vr experience. "so, how was it being in the shoes of hoshina soshiro?"

+ "i feel like i'm going to throw up," you say, holding a hand to your mouth. "why do you jump and flip around so much?!"

+ he laughs loudly and smooths your hair down before he rests his hand right above your shoulder. "maybe i do it on purpose to make you watching me enjoyable."

+ you playfully slap his hand away. "that's the worst thing you've said to me all day."

+ he pulls you closer so that your forehead touches his cheek and he slides his hand further down so that it's tightly wrapped around your arm. and he's lucky that no one's watching because he moves his head ever so slightly so that his lips graze your temple. "in that case, i'll keep saying it."

+ or so he thought because the same kid that jumped on him suddenly shouts, "the vice-captain and chief are kissing!" and of course, that garners the entire attention of the room.

─

this is the most delusional and worst thing i have ever written.

[sealcowboy]

maybe bringing alien!joost to a halloween party and people just looking at him thinking hes wearing a costume, and surprisingly being a bit popular during the entire event ???

you’re barely in the door when someone shouts, “yo! that costume is nuts!”

joost freezes mid-step beside you, antennae springing upright like startled cat ears. the soft bioluminescence at his collar and cheeks flickers slightly, alert, confused, already bracing for something unpredictable.

you squeeze his hand quickly. “they just think you’re in costume,” you whisper, smiling. “you’re good.”

he glances at you. “ah. the disguise of the un-disguised.”

the person in question — a guy in a foam hot dog suit — is now circling him, clearly impressed. “dude, what are you? alien knight? space wizard? some kinda glowing bug man?”

joost, without missing a beat, straightens his posture and says, “i am joost. i traveled here legally and am acclimating to your culture.”

“bro, in character,” the hot dog says, beaming. “respect.”

you have to bite your lip to stop from laughing.

the party is already in full swing, orange lights strung across the ceiling, cheap fog spilling from a machine in the corner, someone blasting a halloween playlist that flips wildly between haunted soundscapes and bubblegum pop. people are dancing in the kitchen. someone’s bobbing for apples in the bathtub. you pass a werewolf vaping on the porch.

joost keeps close to you, clearly overwhelmed, but fascinated.

his antennae flick back and forth like radar dishes, occasionally brushing your shoulder. they glow a calm ocean blue, which is a good sign, he’s curious, not panicked.

“there’s so much… ritual here,” he murmurs, taking in the decorations. “fake bones. aggressive squash. sugar offered in plastic bowls.”

“this is just halloween,” you say, handing him a mini candy bar. “it’s spooky. it’s festive.”

he studies the wrapper like it’s a sacred scroll. “this one is called ‘snickers.’ does it induce laughter?”

“no, but it’s got caramel.”

“hm. i’m fine with that.”

and then, somehow, despite his initial hesitation, joost becomes weirdly popular.

people flock to him like he’s part of the entertainment. asking about his “prosthetics,” complimenting his “LED work,” and begging to know how he made his skin shimmer like that. one guy is convinced his glowing antennae are animatronics.

joost answers every question honestlyc which only makes it better.

“no, this is my actual body,” he says.

“i have adaptive pigment cells in my dermis.”

“my antennae are sensory tools, please do not tug them.”

people love it.

“you’re so committed,” a girl in vampire fangs says, snapping a photo. “this is, like, movie-quality stuff.”

joost leans in and whispers to you, “i believe i am the subject of admiration. is this how celebrities feel?”

you grin. “yeah, this is basically fame.”

“it is enjoyable,” he admits, sounding a little surprised.

you wander with him from room to room, stopping by the snack table (he stares at the orange-dyed cupcakes like they’re poisonous), sipping punch together on the porch (he accidentally drinks a decorative eyeball and says nothing about it), and eventually settling on the couch to watch a few rounds of horror movie trivia (which he answers way too accurately).

at some point, a kid in a store-bought alien mask walks up and stands silently in front of him. they both stare at each other.

joost lifts one glowing antenna.

the kid lifts their plastic mask and says, “cool costume, mister.”

joost nods gravely. “thank you. yours is accurate as well. if a little shiny.”

you could cry. they fist bump.

later, tucked beside him on the couch with a paper plate of candy in your lap, you nudge his side and ask, “having fun?”

“yes,” he says, his glow soft and steady. “no one has tried to dissect me.”

you snort. “the night is young.”

he leans toward you until your shoulders touch. his antennae curl gently toward your head, one brushing against your hair.

“you were correct,” he says quietly. “this holiday is strange. but i enjoy its strangeness. and i enjoy being strange beside you.”

your heart squeezes. you reach over and squeeze his hand.

“happy halloween, joost.”

“thank you,” he replies solemnly. “i hope we are invited back next year. i will prepare an even more realistic appearance.”

“this is your real appearance.”

“exactly,” he says. “i will make no changes.”

you smile and rest your head on his shoulder as the party hums around you.

I LOVED WRITING THIS OMG

[ephemeralp1eces]

You Don’t Have To Choose if No One Makes You - Part VII

Summary: It was race day and the boys were tense; but not just because of the track. It’s like how your parents warn you to be wary of the ocean as a kid - the surface might look almost still, glassy even. But below the calm illusion there is a strong, alluring, dangerous undertow. This weekend, you decide to test the waters.

What to Know: Lando x reader, Oscar x reader, still pg, for now.

wc: ~9,100

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI

The calm before a home race was a myth.

Silverstone Saturday was packed. Media rounds, sponsor activations, McLaren's own PR machine running at full throttle. It felt like half of Britain was backstage. And somehow, in all that chaos, the three of us kept finding each other.

It was never planned. Just momentum. Like magnets in motion.

Lando caught me outside the garage that morning, phone in one hand, shades perched messily on his curls.

He looked me up and down and said, “You wore the top.”

I blinked. “What top?”

He gestured at my cropped McLaren tee. “The one I said made you look like you’d steal a driver’s seat for fun.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You said I looked annoying but in a hot way.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

Oscar walked past mid-sentence and gave me a low whistle without breaking stride.

“See?” Lando said. “Unfair advantage.”

“Over what?” I asked.

But he didn’t answer.

And I didn’t push.

—

The two of them shared a driver debrief that afternoon, one of those rare sit-downs where the data engineer goes line by line through everything. Tire wear. Sector deltas. Gear shifts. I sat in the back of the room, mostly quiet, flipping through notes while the two of them volleyed numbers and nitpicks back and forth.

Oscar: “You’re overdriving into turn three.”

Lando: “I’m carrying more speed.”

Oscar: “And losing it by the exit.”

Lando looked at me. “Tell him he’s wrong.”

I didn’t even glance up. “You are overdriving.”

Lando made a wounded sound.

Oscar looked smug.

“Et tu?” Lando whispered as we filed out.

I patted his shoulder. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?”

—

The rest of the day blurred. Heat. Media. Fan photos. Sponsor schmoozing. And somewhere in between, I ended up wedged between the two of them on a golf cart, being ferried to another last-minute event on the far side of the paddock. Oscar sat on my right. Lando on my left.

We weren’t touching. Not really.

But the air between us crackled. Lando draped one arm behind me, fingers brushing the hem of my shirt. His knee nudged mine casually, deliberately. Every now and then, I felt his gaze flick sideways. Oscar was the opposite. Still. Controlled. But then he leaned in and said something in my ear, some comment about the absurdity of the event we were headed to, and his breath skimmed the side of my neck.

I shivered.

He felt it.

Didn’t apologize.

Neither of them did.

—

After dinner, I stayed behind in the hospitality lounge, catching up on some late edits while the drivers finished their cool-down routines. It was quiet. Dim. Almost peaceful. Until Lando reappeared, hair damp, hoodie zipped halfway, phone in hand.

“You still here?” he asked, voice low.

I didn’t look up. “You sound surprised.”

“I just thought you’d be avoiding me by now.”

I blinked at that. “Why would I be avoiding you?”

He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside me. Not close enough to touch, but closer than usual.

“Because I know what Oscar said.”

I closed my laptop slowly.

“He told you?”

Lando nodded once. “Said he told you you wanted both.”

I exhaled.

“And do you?”

I looked at him.

He didn’t look smug or teasing. He looked… real. Like he wasn’t hiding behind anything anymore.

“I don’t want to lie about it,” I said finally.

“Good,” Lando said. “Because I don’t want you to either.”

Silence.

Then he reached over and hooked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed my cheek. He didn’t move away.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he said, almost under his breath.

I smiled, small. “You love it.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth. And for a second, just one tiny second, I thought he’d kiss me.

But then footsteps echoed in the hallway.

We both turned as Oscar entered the room, stopping short when he saw us. His gaze flicked from me to Lando, to the gap between us that had just become way too obvious.

I cleared my throat. “I was just finishing up- ”

“You still have my jacket,” Oscar said, cutting me off gently.

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Why does she have your jacket?”

“Because she was cold,” Oscar said simply, walking closer.

I stood. “It’s in my room. I’ll-”

Oscar reached into his backpack and pulled out a spare. “Keep it. You look better in it anyway.”

And that, right there. That was the moment. Not the words, but the way he said it.

Lando’s jaw flexed.

I swallowed.

Oscar held my gaze a moment longer, then turned and left.

Lando looked at me. “So… that’s where we are.”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t need to.

—

That night, I wore Oscar’s jacket back to my hotel room. It smelled like him, clinging to my skin.

And when I ran into Lando in the hallway accidentally, honestly, his eyes dropped to the collar.

He didn’t say a word. Just smiled.

But it wasn’t a friendly smile.

It was a promise.

Game on.

—

Silverstone Sunday felt like a powder keg.

Every camera in the paddock was alive, every mic stretched too far, every fan louder than they had any right to be. McLaren energy was buzzing. Hometown circuit, media hype, a double top-ten start. It was supposed to be a celebration.

But the three of us? We were somewhere else entirely.

Oscar had barely said a full sentence to Lando all morning. Lando wasn’t even trying to hide the way he watched me. And I... well, I was starting to lose track of who I was pretending for.

Because there was no pretending left.

Oscar’s jacket was still hanging in my wardrobe. Lando’s words, you drive me fucking crazy, still rang in my ears. And between the two of them, something was coming undone.

It just wasn’t clear if that meant breaking apart... or falling into place.

—

During the pre-race meeting, they both seemed slightly… off.

Lando was slightly more fidgety than normal, shaking his head every once in awhile like was trying to distract himself from something - or someone. Oscar, ever the master of cool composure, was lightly bouncing his knee beneath the table.

They different, there was tension, but it was subtle.

I knew it was because of me, and it made me more excited than it should have.

I tried to play neutral. Gave feedback. Checked tire strategies. Kept my tone even.

—

Race day was a blur.

Oscar crossed the line P2, Lando P1. A strong finish. The garage exploded into cheers.

But they didn’t look happy.

They looked irritated about something.

After the cooldown lap, Lando peeled off his helmet and shoved it into the arms of his mechanic.

Oscar didn’t even wait for the PR rep before walking straight out of parc fermé.

I followed them both to the motorhome, hesitating in the hallway outside the driver rooms.

Then I heard it.

Raised voices.

Lando: “If you’ve got a problem, say it.”

Oscar: “I’m not the one making it weird.”

Lando: “You’re the one acting like I crossed some line—”

Oscar: “You did. You keep trying to win her like it’s a joke.”

Pause.

Lando: “It’s not a joke.”

Oscar: “Then stop pretending it is.”

The silence that followed stretched forever.

I could’ve walked away.

I didn’t.

—

Eventually, they emerged.

Oscar saw me first. Didn’t flinch.

Lando looked... tired. Like the mask had finally cracked.

“You heard that, didn’t you,” he said.

I nodded.

Neither of them moved.

So I did.

I stepped between them, pressed a hand to each of their arms, and said, “This isn’t working.”

Lando blinked. “You mean-?”

“I mean,” I said, softer now, “trying to outdo each other. Pretending this is about who gets to win me.”

Oscar’s voice was quiet. “What’s the alternative?”

I looked up at him. Then at Lando.

“I don’t want to break you two apart.”

Lando scoffed. “We’ve been teammates for years. We’ve had bigger fights over pizza orders.”

Oscar cracked a faint smile.

“Then maybe,” I said, “stop fighting. Start thinking about what it looks like... if no one has to lose.”

Lando’s brows rose. “You’re saying-”

“I’m saying,” I interrupted, “I want both of you.”

Silence. Now they both knew, without a doubt.

Then, slowly, like a shift in the weather, something in both of their faces changed.

Not disbelief.

Not rejection.

Understanding.

Oscar stepped forward first. Not close enough to touch, but closer than he’d stood in days.

“I can’t share you if we’re playing separate games.”

Lando nodded. “Yeah. That would be messy.”

I smiled. “It’s only a mess if we pretend it’s not happening.”

—

Later, when the media swarm had died down and the paddock lights dimmed, we ended up on the roof of the McLaren motorhome.

It wasn’t planned.

It just happened. Again.

Me, sitting on the edge of a crate. Oscar beside me, hands clasped. Lando pacing with a drink he hadn’t touched.

“Okay,” Lando said finally, “real talk.”

Oscar: “Shocking.”

Lando shot him a look. “We’re doing this?”

Oscar shrugged. “Apparently.”

Lando turned to me. “You sure you want this?”

“Do you?”

He hesitated. Then: “Yeah. If he’s not a dick about it.”

Oscar raised a brow. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

I laughed. “You’re both idiots.”

“But you like us,” Lando said.

Oscar met my gaze. “More than like.”

And there it was again.

That shift.

The first real one.

Lando stepped in then, quick, impulsive, and kissed my cheek. Soft. Not cocky. Not a statement.

Oscar didn’t flinch.

Instead, when Lando stepped back, Oscar reached over and touched my hand. Brief. Deliberate.

This wasn’t rivalry anymore.

It was something else.

Something better.

We didn’t have the words for it yet.

But we were starting to understand the rules.

[sophiasturiolo]

Pushing it Down and Praying in the Mountains

Part One

(Sensitive content!!)

You decided months ago that you wanted to go on a trip just the two of you. A drive to the woody mountains. Matt wanted a cabin and you loved the idea too, so you rented one and stayed in the woods for a few days before driving back. You  got to talk about your relationship and spend time alone… many sunset walks to  waterfalls and early morning french toast and OJ. 

Recently there has been some fan  speculation that you might have feelings for Chris too, based on your behavior in videos. You think it’s the most ridiculous thing ever, and can’t believe that it’s affecting him this much. But Matt is genuinely hurt, and has been watching the TikToks and  suggestive clips on repeat, ones of you looking at Chris in ways that you’ve never looked at Matt. You don’t know how to explain it, you just know that you love Matt and don’t want to hurt him. 

You woke up on the last day of the trip, and rolled over to see him. He was already awake, on his back, eyes looking straight at the ceiling fan. No expression. You reach over to put your hand on his chest, but he gets up and takes the sheet with him, wrapping it lazily around his waist as he walks to the bathroom. 

You hear the shower start to run and you roll over onto your side, grabbing the pillow he slept on and wrapping your arms and legs around it, burying your face in the top and inhaling, wondering what you could do to convince him that the rumors aren’t true. 

After you pack up and clean the house, you start on the road. 

“Is everything okay? You didn’t talk to me that whole time.” You say, buckling your seatbelt. 

“Yeah. I was just focused on getting outta here” Matt replies, putting the car into drive. 

Your lips press into a straight line at his monotone response, realizing that he’s icing you out. You’ve been trying to make him feel better forever now. At this point it’s starting to get irritating that he simply won’t listen. So you both didn’t talk… the whole four and a half hour drive back to LA. 

. . . 

The sound of the tires rolling over the gravel on the driveway wakes you up. Your eyes flutter open  and focus slowly onto his soft side profile as he pulls into the garage. You sit up in the passenger seat, allowing the blanket you had on to slip off of your shoulders and unbuckling. You open your mouth to say something, but Matt is already shutting the car door and heading inside. 

You sigh and hop out of the car, following far behind him and going through the garage door into the house. You climb up the stairs, forgetting your bags with the excuse that you’d get them later. Once you reach the top of the stairs you’re greeted with Nick’s voice greeting you. 

“Heyy loverbird number 2!” Nick shouts from the kitchen, taking a swig from a Dr. Pepper can. 

You giggle. “Hello Nicolas” You respond sarcastically, obviously very tired from the drive. You look over to the couch, and Chris is splayed across at least two cushions, with one arm over the back waving at you lazily. 

“So how was the grand getaway?” Chris smirked in your direction and you scoffed. 

“Pervert” You muttered and shook your head. “Where’d Matt go?” You ask, looking around. 

“Kid just stormed upstairs, said he was tired” Chris shrugged and jutted out his bottom lip. Nick nods in agreement. 

It’s not like you had a room in the house… your room was Matt’s, so you really didn’t know where to go. 

“Wanna go do something?” You suggest, looking at both Nick and Matt “Like get food or see a movie or something” You sway back and forth

“I can’t, I have a meeting in literally fifteen minutes so I have to leave soon.” Nick says, tossing his empty Dr. Pepper can in the trash. 

You look over to Chris waiting for an answer. “Yeah sure okay let’s go” He gets up, sliding his forces on quickly and grabbing his wallet. “Where you wanna go” He adds, passing you to start down the stairs. You follow close behind him, a strong whiff of whatever he was wearing hits you like a train,  and a chill runs down your spine like lightning. It was completely involuntary, and it caught you off guard. It’s a thought that you didn’t want to admit to yourself, or even think, but you started to wonder if  maybe the fans were right. That’s the kind of thought you brush so far to the very back of your brain the second it comes up, and that’s what you did. 

You went through the In N out drive through and got food, while eating in the parking lot you notice an empty lot across the way, looks like there used to be a building there and they recently demolished it. 

You hold up your arm and point out your greasy finger to the lot across the street. “Wanna go over there? No lights and no people” You crumple up the wrap from your burger and throw it in the bag.  

“Uhh.. alright. Why are you tryna get me in the dark and alone?” Chris jokes, laughing and throwing the last bite of his burger into his mouth and sipping his soda. Your expression stays serious, caught strangely off guard by his joke. “I wasssss one hundred percent kidding.” Chris notices your awkwardness and adjusts in his seat. 

“No yeah totally I was just thinking like maybe less people will see us, we don’t want anyone coming up or anything if they notice us..” You add, laughing awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Okay I’m sorry what’s going on?” Chris’s eyebrows furrow and he’s evidently not joking anymore. He turns towards you in his seat, as if looking for you to explain. He’s probably wondering why you’re being so awkward, or why you wanted to go out, or anything that would make sense for him to ask right now. But for some reason you could only find yourself thinking about what it would feel like to lean in and kiss him. A couple seconds of silence pass, and the sound of your synced breathing is the only thing you can hear, along with  maybe a little bit of your racing heart beating in your head. His eyes search yours for answers to your behavior, but they also explore your face and have a tendency to fall down to your lips occasionally. 

You know Matt is at home, unknowing and uncaring of where you are and what you’re doing. You can picture him at his desk with his headphones on, doing something to pretend like he’s soo normal and unfazed. He put no effort into fighting through it, and now you’re irritated with a fiery craving to prove him right. Any logic about what this might cause slipped through the car door cracks seconds ago. 

You lean forward quickly with your eyes closed and a shred of hope, finding Chris’s lips with yours. He pulls back in shock, his light eyes full of confusion, but yet again they fall to your lips and his eyebrows furrow. He leans back in, kissing you like you’re a rare fruit, enjoying every bit and worried it won’t last long. One hand slides to the messy tufts of brown hair at the back of his neck, while the other rests against his chest, as if its placement somehow maintains a semblance of innocence. Minutes pass like seconds, and any attempt to not move forward is failed. Straddled on Chris’s lap, your arms drape over his shoulders and his begin to tighten around you. Holding you like high demand treasure that might be taken from him at any moment.  The longer you kiss the more the windows begin to fog, and the heat begins to build. Chris pushes you up off him momentarily and throws his head back on the seat. He’s sweating, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. “God damn it’s fucking hot” He says breathlessly as he grabs the collar of his shirt and  pulls it off, tossing it to the backseat of the car. He looks up at you with a messy smirk, and you drop your head into your hands.

“Okayyy go ahead you can start the flaming ceremony now I guess” A dark blush quickly takes over your whole face. You expect him to make jokes about how the fans were right, and how you didn’t want to believe it.

“Nah I just think you’re funny” He says through his smirk. A few short moments of hot silence go by as you’re sitting on his lap, his eyes explore you, from the drops of sweat on your collar bone to how your shorts are riding up and he can see the lace lining of your underwear. And when he looks down, at a certain angle you can see Matt in him. You feel your hands go cold quickly, just before Chris pulls you back in, his lips latching onto yours again, this time hungrier. He grinds against you just barely, holding you down on top of him. “Fuck” He murmers between sloppy kisses, his  eyes squeeze shut. You feel him getting harder under his blue FL sweats, and start to tug at his waistband. “Back” He says breathlessly between kisses.

“Huh?” You respond, pulling back to question before going back to kiss him. 

“Go..- to the back- mm” He stumbles. Biting your lip and smiling, your climb over him to the backseat, laying down on your back on the leather. Chris follows, getting on top of you and wrapping both of your legs around his lower back. He leans down and presses his lips against  yours again, this time softer. With your eyes closed, you almost couldn’t tell the difference between him and Matt. To counter the unwanted and wildly painful intrusive thoughts, you buck your hips up towards Chris’s, combing your hands desperately through his soft brown hair. He pulls slowly away from you, getting up on his knees. You pout, jutting out your bottom lip. He snickers and reaches to pull down his sweats. You realize why he pulled away and bite your lip in anticipation, closing your eyes and trying not to let your thoughts drown you. You unbutton your jean shorts and pull them down to your ankles, kicking them onto the floor of the car. You look down to see your phone light up on the car floor, it’s a text from Matt. You can’t read it from where you are, but at this moment you don’t care. You bring your hands to Chris’s lower back and push him closer to your body, his cock stretching his boxers as it slides against your underwear. You moan slightly at the friction, and his head drops onto yours. Your foreheads are touching. He looks up at you and you allow your eyes to meet his. Matt’s face flashes through your head like a punch to the face. His look of  defeat on the drive home. Chris brings his index finger and thumb to your chin, and looks at you as if asking you for permission. You nod your head, not only to allow Chris to move forward but to shake the thought of him out of your head for now. 

Chris pulls your underwear to the side and allows his hardness to slip easily inside of you. You were already excited from before, so it was like slicing butter. A guttural moan left his lips as his tip hit your cervix. You throw your head back and dig your nails into his shoulders as he speeds up, his hips moving messily back and forward. “You good?” Chris looks at you, genuinely asking. Just like Matt does. A sudden feeling of guilt rushes over you, their similarities in every way striking you like a bolt of electricity. You squint your eyes shut and nod, trying and nearly failing to come back to reality. To feel this, to feel him. But you can’t, because when you see soft brown hair on your shoulder and a body on top of you it’s usually Matt’s. 

[sleepy--anon]

5 Times Someone Tickled Hyun-ju Accidentally +1 Time It Was On Purpose

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Here's who I write for

Post games Au, everyone who survived season two makes it out

1. Seong Gi-hun

Hyun-ju and Gi-hun sat next to each other at a large table in his new house, looking over documents of players, that were in need of extra help, who reached out. Hyun-ju offered to help him comb through it to make it quicker. She let out a puff of air, blowing her bangs up as she stretched her back before hunching back over the papers.

"I'm gonna grab us some waters and order us something to eat, Bulgogi ok?" Gi-hun finally says after a little over an hour of silence, Hyun-ju nods in response, giving him a soft smile which she sees he tries his best to return. He gently pats her thigh, ending it in a small squeeze, causing her breath to hitch and her knee to slam into the table with a loud thud. Gi-hun instinctively grabs her shoulder, watching her face for any signs of pain or discomfort, only to be met with tightly shut eyes and a furious blush taking over her face. Gi-hun relaxes and let's out an amused huff, patting her shoulder as he stands.

"I haven't seen someone do that since my daughter, let me know if you need to ice that knee."

2. Jang Geum-ja

Hyun-ju and Geum-ja were both in her room, she had a date with Gyeong-seok that night and had asked Geum-ja to help her with an outfit because she was beginning to overthink it. She sat cross-legged on her bed carefully touching up her eyeliner before applying her dark pink liquid lip.

"This will be perfect for this, Jun-hee and I love how you look in this!" Geum-ja held up the dark red dress she picked, it was form fitting down to the skirt where it became more flowy, it came down to mid-shin and it tied behind her neck. She nodded, spraying her setting spraying before fussing with her hair for what felt like the 80th time that evening.

"Hyun-ju, Honey, you could throw your hair up in the messiest bun you could muster and he'd still look at you like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, relax, stop messing with it." Geum-ja reassures, running her fingers through her hair, accidentally scratching the back of her neck, causing her to scrunch up with a few quiet giggles.

"As much as I'd love to explore that, you've gotta get dressed Nae Ttal, he'll be here soon."

3. Park Yong-sik

The pair had gone out to watch a movie at a drive-in theater, Yong-sik having snuck in alcohol he was a little inebriated, hanging off Hyun-ju's shoulders as she practically dragged him into his house, shushing him so he didn't wake his mother.

"Hyun-juna! You're so responsible, I'm older than you and you're still taking care of me. You're so awesome." He slurred a bit, flopping on his bed as Hyun-ju hummed in acknowledgement, tugging his shoes off his feet.

"Are you gonna stay the night? We could have a sleep over! Like we're kids!"

"Hush Yong-sik, Omma is sleeping. I have to go home tonight, Na-yeona has a play date in the morning that I am taking her to, I am not facing the wrath of a 4 year old because of an unplanned 'sleep over'" Hyun-ju scoffed, feeling like she's scolding a child.

"You're so boring now." He whined making a move to shove her only to grip her side, causing her to yelp and jump away from him.

"ShHhHhH! You're the loud one now."

"Oh my god, go to sleep."

4. Kim Jun-hee

Hyun-ju paced back and forth in Jun-hee's living room, gently bouncing the baby, her quiet coos melting Hyun-ju's entire heart.

"I swear, she only behaves like an angel with you. Anyone else or just me and she screeches like a banshee." Jun-hee lightheartedly complains, slightly waddling out of her hallway, hair damp but looking well rested.

"Thank you for taking her so I could nap and take a shower, I feel so much better." Hyun-ju could hear the genuine gratitude in her voice as she flopped down on the couch. Hyun-ju sat down next to her, carefully laying the baby in the automated rocker, turning it on.

"It's no problem at all Jun-hee, I meal prepped for you so you won't have to cook, I did your laundry, and I cleaned up." Jun-hee looked at her in awe for a couple seconds.

"Oh Unnie, you didn't have to do all that. I appreciate it but that's so much."

"I don't mind, I became Na-yeon's mom in the late toddler stage, I never got the baby stage, I'm enjoying it a bit, even if it's just auntie duties." She shrugged, Jun-hee made a mental note to see if Gyeong-seok would be open to discussing surrogacy with Hyun-ju.

"Does your back hurt from all that?" She asked innocently, prodding her back muscles, eyebrows jumping in surprise when Hyun-ju squirmed and giggled a bit with a soft flush.

"Ihihi-I'm fihine Jun-hee, don't worry."

5. Kang Dae-ho

Dae-ho was extremely stand offish to Hyun-ju at first, finding both her and her rank intimidating. He eventually came around feeling extremely greatfull at her anxiety calming techniques she'd shown him.

"You're a lot like my eldest sister y'know? You're cooler though." Hyun-ju chuckled at the compliment, continuing to braid the top half of his hair.

"Thanks I think." She joked, tying off the braid, spinning it into a bun and clipping it.

"Yeah, you're both really good with your hands, when I was little I used to think her hands had magic in them." He confessed, taking Hyun-ju's hand, tracing little circles on her palm, emulating the 'swirling magic'. Hyun-ju bit her lip, knee bouncing and fingers twitching as she tried not to react. Dae-ho eventually got distracted by a bird in the bird feeder he'd put outside his window.

"Have you ever been tested for ADHD before?"

+1. Park Gyeong-seok

It was one of those days where Na-yeon was at auntie No-eul's house, giving the couple some grown up time.

"I've noticed a few things about you since we've started dating." He said softly, the two were laying on their sides on their bed, facing each other, just talking really.

"Have you now?" She teased in return.

"Yeah, like how you hide your ticklishness, just not very well." He quipped, watching her face turn pink.

"How one of my favorites is this one~" He cooed, tucking her hair behind her ear, watching her giggle and turn into her pillow.

"Is it such a crime to want to see my lovely girlfriend smile? You always look so pretty when you smile." He hums, pinching her hip, sending her flying onto her back with a loud laugh. He quickly hovered over her with a fond expression, tweaking her rib to watch her laugh for a bit.

"You hide it but I absolutely adore it." He kissed her nose and crows feet, opting to cuddle her instead.

[paxcallow]

do you think we could pretty please have some razlili they give me life🙏🙏🙏

DON'T MIND IF I DO!!! i am sorry anon that this is sososo late, i fell crappy ill for several days and also was drawing a whole several page comic in response to this ask for some reason. i'll post that too but here

busteeed

[akiirart]

Twilight princess best game dude

[transautisticmikewheeler]

little pockets of hope

parent au, aged-up byler / married byler

modern au, trans mike, pov will

enjoy : )

It's early, the August sun shining down at them from the window just a few feet away. Will's nose scrunches, eyes squeezing shut as he only sees brightness, ducking his head to Mike's shoulder, the younger man still dead to the world.

Finally, Will's eyes open blearily, blinking a few times, not usually a late sleeper, but last night he'd gone later just to finish a commission and give himself a day of rest.

Pulling back just a bit, enough to see Mike's face, his own immediately softens, eyes following the hints of laugh lines already forming. Mike's freckles are as dark as ever, dotting his face in a way that always reminds Will of the myth of angel kisses; a story his mom had told them first after Mike had brought up hating them in front of her.

He melts a little thinking about it.

"I just don't like them... they look so bad on me," a younger Mike pouts, his hands over his face as they sit on the couch, off track from trying to pick a movie.

"I don't think so," Will had replied, glancing over what he could see of them- the specks on Mike's face and sparse ones elsewhere over him.

"You know, some people say they're from an angel kissing you."

Mike's head had popped up, confusion written all over, and Will hadn't blamed him before Mom explained.

Carefully, present day Will brings a hand to Mike's cheek, gently swiping a thumb over a section of them, caressing. He bites back a laugh as Mike's face twitches, but he stays asleep.

Out of the two of them, Mike had always been the deeper sleeper.

Will's hand moves, down, pressing to the clothed bump protruding from Mike's middle, this being a rare night Mike would get good sleep. Their daughter was hardly lenient and rather feisty even before birth, which would be happening sometime in the next four weeks. Will finds himself chuckling at how much he sees Mike in her already; hyperactive and impatient, but procrastinates on almost everything.

"You're going to be a handful, aren't you?" he murmurs, feeling nothing under his palm but heat. Mike always ran hot.

Seconds later, Will moves down a little, eye level with Mike's unbound chest, but still looking under the blanket at where his hand sits. He and Mike had talked extensively about parenthood, whether Mike was comfortable getting pregnant, if he'd breastfeed or bottle feed, what he'd want to be called, and when they'd both be ready for this if they did want it.

The talks always took around an hour, taking pros and cons for each of them, what would be realistic versus what wouldn't be.

With Mike still on hormones, the idea of biological kids had to be deliberate, planned, but with both of them finally out of college and satisfied on that front- Mike, with his creative writing and film double major and physics minor, and Will, with his art major and psychology minor, both sporting degrees from these things- they'd spent a year putting up savings and talking near constantly about it.

Now, at twenty-seven years old, they'd be having their first child: a girl, Felicity Wheeler-Byers.

The wedding had only been a few months ago, making Mike around five months pregnant, and both of them had cried, Mike even laughing at himself for crying so much more than usual before destroying Will himself with a vow that had him, arguably, just as emotional.

Back in real time, Will's thumb rubs gentle circles onto Mike's stomach.

He smiles gently, a bit in awe of how far he'd gotten from the timid kid he'd used to be, leaning on his best friend's protection, to this; they're both equal here, sharing responsibilities and trading name tags of protector and caregiver.

"You're a miracle," he adds, softer, remembering how he used to be so convinced that Mike didn't even love him like this, much less would want a full life with him. "You don't even know..."

A soft snore escapes Mike, the suddenness of it startling Will a little, who laughs quietly at himself.

Then the world is calm again, warm, bright, as the curtain fails to shield all of the sun's rays from them.

"You'll be so loved, not just by dad and me, but all of our family," he murmurs next, calmed down again. It soothes his nerves just to talk like this, to prove himself capable, at least now, of being different from his own father. It's a thought both of them struggle with, Mike having a fear of being apathetic and unattached, or of being irritated by every imagined flaw enough to demean them, and Will... no matter the reassurance that he's not like that, just hopes he can raise a child without resorting to violence like his own father.

A third silence hangs around them, Will's thumb still moving in a comforting, repetitive path, back and forth.

"I can't wait to meet you," he confesses finally, feeling the truth in his bones as he imagines having her in his arms after a long nine months. He'll cry, he just knows it, but it's comforting to know they all will. "I bet you'll have your dad's hair, maybe my eyes?"

His voice is soft, but questioning. He's thought a lot about this.

"You'll have your grandma's nose, dad's cheeks, and... and you'll have dad's freckles, too," he decides, the whispered words keeping both of them company, even if she can't exactly understand them.

He takes a breath, leading to a strong yawn.

He falls asleep again like that, hand settled to Mike's stomach, over their baby, his whispered praises and predictions tapering off.

[yappacadaver]

like i literally don't think sera was poorly written and i will go to bat for her at any time for this

i think the inquisitor is poorly written in their interactions, and that's colored most people's views of sera. Sera is a product of two incredibly different worlds/cultures, her contradictions and hypocrisies make sense to anyone who can empathize with her background. She's very young, has lost multiple support systems and had to rebuild from the ground up multiple times, has lived in contradictory settings where her full identity was never accepted, only dissected. People can't get over the fact that she has an aversion to elf culture but won't extend her the acknowledgement that elf culture shunned her first. People can't get over that she "punches down" to mages, despite the setting doing almost everything to inform us that this is a commonly held opinion amongst vulnerable non-mage populations and then giving us multiple very good reasons why that is.

basically people are mad that she's not the perfect understanding pauper girl, and is instead very young, hurt, and angry-- and that despite all of this she is putting her life on the line to help save the world from tyranny alongside people she will never understand or get along with. How is that not compelling????

[rigginsstreet]

MAE: Obviously, once again, the women are much better football players than you guys. While you're fumbling and bobbing over there, Saracen, Tyra's kicking ass and taking names.

-IT’S NOT ONLY FOOTBALL: FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS AND BEYOND

[edmione]

MATTHEW

[piratekane]

Kate pauses, the coffee pot titled over her to-go mug as the freshly-brewed dark roast starts to fill it. “Another undercover assignment? For both of us?” Lucy carefully takes the pot from Kate, leveling it off before all 8 ounces end up on the counter. “Cool, right? A joint undercover operation. Thelma and Lousie, teaming up to take on the bad guys.”

i do, you do, we do - the imagined opening and closing scenes of NCIS: Hawai'i season 3, episode 4 (aka The Newlyweds episode).

[lupismaris]

There is nothing so affirming and life saving as leaving home and being loved at face value by total strangers for who you are