#lizzie is alive thank god

[lizzieblabbers]

something is wrong with me

i know there's a ninety percent chance that this is just pcos messing up with my hormones, or a ten percent chance that people are really testing me

its been days and ever since i feel resentful of every little thing that does not go my way. i am so frustrated with everything i might explode

it doesn't help that my acne is getting fucking worse lately (which may have been caused by the stress induced by reasons unknown to me) and its physically hurting me, making me more irritable

honestly i am just so tired of living (as me) in this shithole

i mean yeah there's a bright side but im starting to doubt if that was mean to balance out the bad ones or just to make the latter more powerful and felt??

SEE THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME

there are unnecessary things running through my head rn and it has already caused me to be two days behind my schedule (FUCK IT REALLY)

i had coffee today so maybe its the reason why i had the guts to write and publish this tonight and not let it rot in my drafts for days

...maybe coffee's the answer to my writer's block?

BUT THATS NOT THE ISSUE

either way i know i have to fix my sleeping schedule (which has been shit for the past few days, by the way) to be productive again and actually feel like a living human being and not just merely existing

ok thats it im gonna sleep its already 11:48 bye

[rambleonwithrosie]

For all the trials of our times...

At least we no longer live in a world where we have to marry Mr Collins to survive and not be a burden

[luvleonidas]

top ten reasons why i love carol

number one:

number two:

[watarfallar]

If I had a nickel for every time I posted an incorrect quotes dump, I'd have a lot of nickles!

BigB: What if I lied this whole time and I'm actually 18? Mumbo: BigB, stop trying to get drugs. BigB: Don't suppress my interests.

Lizzie: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is? Jimmy: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

Tango: Don’t stay up all night, Ren. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Scar: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Gem, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Etho: Gem has no idea I’m high. Gem: You’re high? Etho: Oh, I’m sorry. Etho, leaning over to Grian: Gem has no idea I’m high.

Martyn: Why don't we just call it, "M.C. Donald's?" Scar: Because it just sounds like a stupid rapper's name. Cleo: It'd just be like- "Eyo, it's ya boy, M.C. Donald!"

Scar: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Grian: 'Prettiest Smile' Joel: 'Nicest Personality' Ren: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Cleo: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Impulse: I don't follow the rules. I follow dogs on social media.

Pearl: So I’m the only one around here who can clean up, huh? You can't even lift a finger? Tango: Do I get to pick the finger?

Jimmy, talking to Impulse: Well Impulse, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Gem do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. Impulse: … Gem, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Pearl: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

BigB: Tango, what if there are monsters? Tango: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… BigB, lying awake at night: I am the monster.

Pearl: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Gem! *Neither of them die* Gem: … Pearl: … Gem: So do you wanna talk about somethi- Pearl: No thank you.

Bdubs: Aww, what's your dog's name? Tango: Spartacus. Bdubs, yelling to Martyn: TRY SPARTACUS! Martyn, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK! Tango: Bdubs: What's your favorite number?

Scott: Don’t say a word. Impulse: Fergalicious. Scott: Impulse, I said no words. Impulse: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

Skizz, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Cleo: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Tango: How? Cleo: I need someone to take the fall. Tango: What did you do? Cleo: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Etho, from the other room: Oh my god. Cleo: ... Etho: OH MY GOD! Tango: Make it a hundred. Cleo: Deal.

Mumbo: So jellyshish- Grian, laughing: JELLYSHISH!? Mumbo: You know what I meant!

Cleo: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* Skizz: We have heart? Cleo: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

Etho: Do you even have a plan? Tango: This is the plan! I break you out, chaos, destruction, something something something, we win! Etho: Oh, of course, the old “something something something we win”. That’s a terrible plan!

Pearl: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Grian: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. Pearl: Okay yeah thanks Grian, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Scar: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

[hengqarae]

reckless driver

PAIRING ❄ kim mingyu x afab!reader WORD COUNT ❄ 10k words GENRE ❄ street racer au, angst, romance, smut (minors dni), the teeniest tiniest smidge of humor WARNINGS ❄ swearing, illegal activity (drag/street racing), making out, extreme pining, whirlwind romance, smut (fingering, protected sex), not proofread, brief hospital scene

you hate racing and you don't date racers. kim mingyu loves racing, and he finds out that he loves you, too, from the moment that he first lays eyes on you.

PLAYLIST ❄ reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine (ft. ben kessler) / yards / gardens by kate bollinger / btbt by b.i. & souljia boy tell 'em (ft. devita) / notice me by sza / nothing but the love by wrabel / with my eyes closed by cults / anyone by seventeen / angel eyes by abba FROM THE AUTHOR ❄ mingyu, crawling up my bias list because of my own fic that i wrote about him... i am a lizzy stan before i am a human, and the first time that i heard reckless driving, i knew that she was singing about mingyu (or, at least, the mingyu that i would one day write about). i hope that you enjoy reading this, and i hope that you are having a wonderful new year <3

You didn’t know what you were getting into when you visited the track that very first time. 

To your credit, you did not visit with the intention of falling in love. Your roommate, Lee Chan, had begged and pleaded for you to accompany him, to indulge, even just once, in this newfound passion of his. He had started racing to pay his bills, but quickly figured out that he enjoyed it. The rush of adrenaline made him feel alive, he’d tell you. You would always follow that up by telling him that he was chasing a high that could kill him one day. 

You didn’t support his racing. You hated saying goodbye to him when he left for races. You always found yourself anxiously awaiting news, tossing and turning whenever you tried to sleep, forced to occupy yourself with something to distract you while you waited for a call, a text, anything to assure you that he had finished the race safely and that he would be coming home at the end of the night. The possibility of getting arrested didn’t really scare either of you; you were mostly afraid that you would lose your best friend, and because of your own stubbornness, you weren’t going to be present if, and when, that happened. That’s the only reason that you started attending races with him. You’ve made sure that you’re abundantly clear about that, too. 

“It’s s'posed to be a really good race tonight!” Chan was practically bouncing in his seat. You hummed quietly in response, eyes trained on his speedometer. He was prone to driving fast when he was excited, and you were nervous enough at the prospect of him racing at all – your nerves didn’t need to be exacerbated by speeding down the interstate en route to the track. “All of the circuits are having their championships tonight, so if I place, I’ll get to move up to C! All the S racers will be there, too. Choi Seungcheol, Joshua Hong, Kim Mingyu – they're, like, gods in the downtown racing circuit.” 

“And which one do I have to thank for bringing you into racing?” 

Chan groans quietly, hands shifting their positions on the steering wheel. “Don’t talk to anyone. Even though I love and adore you, and your opinions are very important to me... I don’t know if your anti-racing agenda will be met very favorably tonight.” 

“What? I said I was going to thank them.” 

“Right.” Chan forces a smile. “Please do not talk to anyone tonight.” 

You huff quietly in response, shifting in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest. You hope that your phone has enough battery to get you through the night. You were definitely not going to watch Chan race, and you doubted that you were going to meet anyone at the track that could offer titillating conversation; that is, you weren’t interested in talking about racing or cars, and it was unlikely that you’d find anyone that could offer much beyond that. You’d likely spend your time in Chan’s car, scrolling through Tik Tok while you waited for him or until your battery died and you were forced to be alone with your own thoughts. 

At least, that had been your intention. When you and Chan arrive at the track, you’re quickly reminded of that saying about best laid plans. 

“Mingyu! What’s up, man?” Chan barely bothers to turn off his ignition before he’s bounding out of his car, greeting another man. One look tells you that this guy – Kim Mingyu, you’re assuming, as Chan had already mentioned him – is a racer, too, and you’re spurred out of the car to give him a piece of your mind. Chan only realizes that you’ve come up behind him once Mingyu’s gaze travels to you, and he’s quick to try and jump on offense. “M-Mingyu, this is my roommate. They... don’t race.” 

“They don’t like racing, either.” You offer, crossing your arms again, leaning against the hood of Chan’s car. You’re uncomfortable with the way that Mingyu is sizing you up, and you don’t miss the smug countenance plastered on his, admittedly handsome, face. Still, you find it difficult to peel your eyes away from his. He’s... hot. You had made it easier to villainize the sport by picturing all other racers to be stout, middle-aged men with receding hairlines. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Mingyu doesn’t fit that picture. 

“Roommates. Is that code for something, or is this actually platonic?” Mingyu keeps his eyes locked with you as he asks, even though you get the sense that his question is directed at Chan. You feel warm under his gaze, unsure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable, or if it’s because you’re finding yourself more and more attracted to Mingyu as you stare at him. Every few seconds, you have to remind yourself that he’s another stupid racer, and for that reason alone, it’s out of the question. 

“N-No, we’re just friends. Nothing like that. Why do you— oh, shit, hold on. Hoshi!” Chan pulls away before he can finish his own question, chasing after another man, leaving you and Mingyu still locked in on each other. His smirk seems to grow even wider, and you shift your weight. You wish Chan had stayed and finished his question. You, too, would like to know why Mingyu had asked. 

As nice as he is to look at, though, if you don’t speak to anyone else tonight, you’ll at least have told Kim Mingyu how you feel about his and Chan’s stupid racing. You won’t back down, even under the warmth that’s blooming across your skin. “Are you the one that brought Chan into this shit?” 

“Dirty words comin’ from such a pretty mouth.” 

“A-Answer the question.” 

Sliding his hands into the pockets of his jackets, Mingyu offers a shrug. “He was already into it when I met him. It was probably...” He looks around after he trails off before focusing back on you. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. He only mimics your expression, raising his own eyebrows back at you. 

“Well? Who was it? Is he here?” 

“I don’t want to tell you.” 

You scoff. “I-I’m not going to hurt them. I just want to yell at them.” 

“Yeah, that’s why.” You knit your eyebrows together and Mingyu’s smirk grows even wider, turning into a full grin now. “I’d rather you yell at me instead. You seem like you’d be hot when you’re mad.” 

You’re at a loss. It’s been a while, if ever, since you’ve been flirted with so shamelessly, and as badly as you want to stay mad about your current situation – your best friend refusing to quit racing despite your constant protests and you, inevitably, getting dragged to the track with him – you're finding it hard to keep it together when Mingyu is looking at you like he wants to devour you. “I don’t fuck with racers.” 

“I think I could persuade you.” 

“I don’t want to be persuaded.” 

“I like a challenge.” Mingyu bends at the waist, meeting you at eye level from where you’re leaning on Chan’s car. You scrunch your nose when you catch a whiff of his cologne, telling yourself that no, you do not like how he smells. “God, you’re so pretty.” 

“Stop flirting with me.” You snap. 

There’s that smirk again. “Okay, angel.” 

You groan, rolling your eyes and throwing your head back. When you lift your head back, Mingyu seems to have gotten closer. If you reach out, you could grab the collar of his jacket and pull him even closer. Your fingertips tingle at the prospect, but you refrain. Instead, you take the opportunity to study his face up close, his smooth, tanned skin and his deep brown eyes and his plump lips. You must have been looking for a while, because Mingyu feels compelled to finally break you out of your trace. 

“You can look and touch, y’know.” 

“Pass.” You scowl, snapping out of it and leaning back, attempting to create some distance between the two of you. “Don’t you need to warm up or something?” 

“I don’t race for another few hours.” 

You set your jaw. What is this guy doing? Why is he wasting his time on you? You’re sure that, somewhere else within the track, he could find plenty of other people willing to swoon over him, ready to fall to their knees and offer him some pre-race stress relief. You weren’t one of those people. You hate racing. You hate that Chan fell into it, and you hate how you become too worried to function sometimes. You had met him in college, and for him to forsake the degree that he earned for the quick, easy money that he was getting now made your emotions flare. His business degree wasn’t going to kill him. Racing, eventually, will. 

The scent of Mingyu’s cologne is making you feel dizzy, enveloped in the scent of him, and under other circumstances, you’d already have him pressed against you. This was one of Chan’s races, though. You get enough of this shit at home from him; you aren’t going to bring any pieces back with you, too, even though you can imagine it would feel really good to touch Mingyu, and to have him touch you. 

Mingyu is perfectly content in standing and looking at you. He thinks you’re the second most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on, only behind his mother, and if today is the only day he’ll ever be able to see you, he wants to burn the image of you onto the back of his eyelids. 

You finally reach out a hand, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing him back. Nevermind how firm his chest is and how strongly you’re urged to grip his black t-shirt and pull him forward instead of pushing him back. He smiles even as you widen the gap between the two of you. “Is this what you want? You want me to go?” 

You open your mouth to respond to him, to tell him that yes, he needs to leave, but the words won’t come out. Maybe you don’t want him to go. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you like the way that you feel when he’s looking at you, feverish, skin prickling with a sense of urgency that doesn’t make sense to you. Your insides twist uncomfortably when you look into his eyes, and yet, you don’t want to look away. 

Fuck, you wish that he didn’t race. 

“Just tell me to go away and I will, angel.” 

You can’t. You don’t want to. There’s some kind of magnetic pole within Mingyu’s body, compelling you toward him even though you wish that you could get away. You’re stuck in his orbit, and it’s a little scary. 

“You should stop racing.” You respond, finally remembering yourself. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” 

“Duly noted. How ‘bout a kiss, just in case I do get myself killed tonight?” 

“In your dreams.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu laughs, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back at the forehead. “I’ll definitely be dreamin’ about you.” 

Your body moves faster than your brain, finally giving into the desire to have him closer. Instead of pulling him toward you, you’re stepping forward. You like the feeling of having your body pressed against his, but more than that, you like the feeling of your lips pressed against Mingyu’s. He smiles that same insufferable, self-satisfied grin against your lips, but even that doesn’t make you pull away. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, fingers twirling in his hair. 

He puts his hands, big and warm, on your hips, holding you against him as you sink your teeth into his bottom lip. Mingyu groans in response and you take the opportunity to swipe your tongue against his top row of teeth. His grip becomes impossibly tighter, and he slides his tongue fully into your mouth, alternating between licking the inside of your mouth and massaging your tongue with his. Only when your lungs feel tight and burn from the lack of oxygen do you finally detach yourself from him, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. Mingyu flutters his eyes open, and the look in his eyes makes butterflies erupt in your chest. 

You untangle yourself from him immediately, running your hands through your own hair this time. “I--we—that--” 

“Was that you givin’ me material for my dreams?” 

“W-We shouldn’t have done that.” 

“We didn’t do anything. You kissed me.” 

“I-I know.” You’re still breathing heavily, your mind jumbled with thoughts of how you kissed Mingyu, how you should not have kissed Mingyu, and how much you liked kissing Mingyu. “That w-was a mistake. I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Mingyu juts out his bottom lip, red and puffy and tantalizing enough that you almost disregard your hesitation and dive in again. “You’re breakin’ up with me already? After all that we’ve been through?” 

“Stop making jokes!” You snap at him. “I-It isn’t funny! That—we--” 

“All we did was kiss. There will be plenty of opportunities to do it again.” You’re grasping at straws, trying to navigate through the fog that’s collected in your brain for a retort, when Mingyu’s phone goes off. He pulls it out of his pocket and, for the first time, you see him without a smile. “Call me, okay? Promise?” 

He backs away without waiting for a response, holding out his pinky finger toward you. You watch him retreat with a scowl on your face that only deepens once he blows a kiss at you, turning his back to you and taking off in a jog toward the racetrack. Once he’s been out of sight for long enough to ensure that he’s actually gone, you groan loudly, covering your hands with your face. Your face is hot, and your hands are clammy, and you keep thinking about how good it felt to kiss Mingyu, soft lips slotting between and sliding against yours, his fingers leaving your skin feeling scorched wherever they touched. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. You had been doing so well, holding yourself back and exhibiting some enviable self-restraint. Still, something in you had snapped, and you don’t know how you’ll be able to recover. On the bright side, you might never see Mingyu again. On the other hand, though, he’d shown a determination that makes you doubt he would let you go so easily. You can only hope that he’s just some playboy; that you’re the latest target of his conquest, that he’ll find somebody else and forget all about you. 

He told you that he liked a challenge, and unfortunately, you like being chased.

+ + +

Mingyu can’t stop thinking about you. He knew that this was going to be a problem when he first laid eyes on you and, lo and behold, he was lying in bed for the fourth night in a row, staring up into the dark, consumed with thoughts of you. 

He doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. He doesn’t know if he’ll see you again. What he does know is that he’s seriously lovesick, and you’re the only thing that’ll be able to cure him. This is not the type of person that Kim Mingyu is, though. Usually, he’s suave and charming, and he gets exactly what he wants... and then some. He’s so good at flirting because he does it so often, and yet, he wasn’t able to charm you completely. You’d kissed him – yes, you kissed him – and then, after his race, disappeared without another word. 

He is not a bad kisser. That’s a fact. And, yet, when you had kissed him, you had reacted like you’d committed some kind of grave sin. Mingyu has been with people that think he’s bad news, but that’s never served as an actual obstacle before. This is uncharted territory. He wants you. He wanted you before he even spoke to you; he wanted you as soon as he got his first glimpse of you. 

Your actions say that you want him, too, but your words have contradicted that, and Mingyu doesn’t know what he’s supposed to trust. He’s on the hook either way. 

He doesn’t know what time it is when he reaches for his phone on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know if this will work, but he’s got to try something. His sanity, and sleep cycle, depends on this. 

“Hey Siri, call Lee Chan.” 

The call gets picked up on the second ring, and Mingyu’s heart rate picks up, too. He releases a breath that he doesn’t even realize he’s been holding when he identifies the voice on the other end of the line. “Chan isn’t here right now. What do you want?” 

“I was calling to ask for you, actually, angel.” Mingyu sits up in bed, grinning into the phone. 

The silence on the other end of the line drives up his heart rate ever more, but when he hears shuffling, he’s able to relax a little. You haven’t hung up. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, Mingyu?” 

“Say my name again.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

“N-No!” His face burns at how eager he must sound, but he doesn’t care to play it cool. Maybe with somebody else, but not with you. He has too much to lose to try and impress you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to ask you to remove the spell you put on me.” 

His words cause your stomach to somersault. Truthfully, you’ve had a hard time since meeting, and kissing, Mingyu, too. You know that chalking it up to love at first sight would only exacerbate things. You don’t think it’s merely lust, though, either – you've always been able to restrain yourself. You’re careful with your feelings and your emotions, and there’s something there between you and Mingyu. You don’t know what, exactly, but you know that it can’t be there. You have enough on your plate, constantly worrying about Chan. You can’t add someone else, someone that does the exact same stupid stuff, into the mix. You need this to stop, for his sake and for yours. 

“I-It’s late and you’re probably just horny. Call someone else.” 

“What?” Mingyu’s incredulousness comes through clearly over the phone, and you nearly cringe at how harsh your words were. Still, you can’t indulge this. You shouldn’t. 

You want to. 

“N-No, I... I’m sorry.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair, frustrated. “Mingyu, I don’t fuck with racers. I told you that.” 

“Your roommate races.” 

“Yeah, and I hate that he does that, okay? I worry myself sick over him when he’s off racing. The only thing that I can be thankful about is that he does drag and not streets. But you do streets, too, don’t you?” Mingyu doesn’t respond, and you scoff quietly. “Yeah, I already know that you do. I-I can’t get involved with someone that risks their life all the time for money.” 

‘It’d be different if I were a cop, though, right? Or a firefighter? That’d make me a hero, right? This--” You hear him pause to take a breath. “I'm in love with you, okay? Completely and utterly smitten with you, to the point that it’s takin’ over my life.” Your breath hitches quietly at his confession, but Mingyu makes no indication that he heard you. “This isn’t my career. We can’t all tolerate cushy bureaucracy jobs. This is what I do now, for money, so that I can stop racin’ one day and retire, then and there. I want to enjoy my life. It’ll be more enjoyable if you’re in it. There is nothing else that I can say except for I’m sorry, and I love you.” 

“W-We just met, Mingyu. It hasn’t even been a week.” 

“I like to go fast.” 

You don’t know what else you can say. You can’t proclaim that you love him, not right now, but you’re sure that in a few weeks’ time, that’s where you’d be, too. Still, you know better. Mingyu is here today, but he could be gone the very next time that he has a race. That terrifies you. 

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

Mingyu’s at the end of his short rope. He had called in the first place so that he could hear your voice, thinking that maybe it could help him get to sleep. Now, though, he wishes he hadn’t called. He should’ve just suffered through his insomnia and continued suffering through it. It was better than the rejection he was facing. “Nevermind. Just forget it.” 

“Mingyu--” 

“No, angel, I—you kiss me, and then you push me away. You tell me to fuck off, then you tell me that under different circumstances, you’d be interested. I’ve shown you all of my cards, and you’re not interested in anteing up, so just forget it, okay?” 

You end the call before Mingyu can hear you cry. It’s all too fast, and you’re overwhelmed. You want him, but there’s one part of him that you just can’t accept. You aren’t reckless. You like to think things through, and you don’t do things on a whim. Kissing Mingyu had catalyzed a panic within you that you had lost control, and if you lose control once, you’re bound to do it again. It feels like you’re being backed into a corner with two options to get out: take Mingyu completely as he is or swallow your obvious feelings and leave him as he is. You clutch Chan’s phone tightly against your chest as you sob quietly, hot tears rolling down your cheeks even despite your attempts to stifle them. 

Mingyu, similarly, can’t believe what just happened. He’s too reckless. He bared himself to you too early, and the consequences that he’ll reap will not be good ones. He can’t help how he feels about you, and nobody feels more intensely than Kim Mingyu. He knows that he fucked up. He knows that he can’t come back from this, and he needs to cut his losses and find a way to get rid of his feelings for you. He doesn’t know how he’ll accomplish it, but if he never sees you again, that’ll probably be the fastest way he’ll be able to heal. He’s never cared for someone so deeply before he met you. He’s never known so immediately that he’s been in love. You’re it for him, and he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s already lost you.

+ + +

You shouldn’t have come. You knew that before you got into Chan's car, but now, with Mingyu’s gaze practically burning a hole into the side of your head, it’s been made abundantly clear. 

“Why is he looking at you like that?” Chan whispers while you shift your weight. “You never told me what happened between the two of you.” 

“I don’t want to get into it.” You mutter, willing yourself to look forward and not over at Mingyu, watching you from a distance like a predator observing its prey. It’s been weeks since your phone conversation. You were no less convinced that you were going to be able to forget about him, and a small part of you had hoped that you would come tonight and see somebody else draped around his arm, shocking you back into a state of rationality. 

That isn’t the case though, obviously, and you had to beg Chan to keep to you so that you aren’t vulnerable. You don’t know what you should expect from Mingyu. He’s reckless and volatile, and the way that you feel when you’re around him is... scary. As brief as your first interaction had been, you left with the sense that, if enough time had passed with you in his proximity, he would have replaced the necessity of air with himself; he would’ve become your air, and you would’ve suffocated without him. 

There’s something fantastic about the way that Mingyu has made you feel like you’re breathing and drowning at the same time, with just one little kiss and a simple love confession. 

“He's looking at you like you murdered his dog. Now he’s-- okay, now he’s looking at his phone... he’s looking at you again.” 

“I don’t need the play by play, Chan, thanks.” 

“Tell me what happened!” 

You shake your head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Fine, then I’m leaving.” 

Your eyes widen and you turn to grab Chan, to pull him back and to keep him as your wall against Mingyu, but he’s out of reach before you’re able to react. In a matter of seconds, Mingyu has crossed the way and is standing in front of you, arms crossed tightly over his chest. You stare at him, horrified. 

He just scoffs. “You’re cruel, you know that?” 

“I-I’m not here--” 

“Yeah, whatever, you’re not here for me.” His hostility takes you aback, even though you know it’s deserved. You can tell from body language alone that Mingyu is still hurting. His words and tone of voice merely confirm that for you. “I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over you when you continue to show up to my races.” 

“It’s been weeks already, Mingyu.” 

“Yeah? And has the passage of time made you feel any better?” You don’t respond, turning away so that he can’t notice the tears brimming at your waterline. You’re biting your cheek to keep them from spilling. Mingyu knows better, though, and softens. Just a little. “I told you that I loved you, and I still do. I’m willin’ to do anything for you – anything except quit.” 

That’s the only thing that you need from him, though. “We barely know each other. You don’t love me.” 

“You don't know how I feel. You haven’t bothered to ask.” 

“B-Because you tell me even if I don’t ask! You don’t know me well enough to say that you love me.” 

“I can say whatever I damn well please.” He scoffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “There is somethin’ between us, you can’t deny that, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to foster this spark that we have. That’s love, isn’t it?” 

“That’s--” You cut yourself off, groaning in frustration. His words make your knees feel weak, but you’re not ready to let up the fight. “You’re too nonchalant about this for it to be love. It’s supposed to be something bigger. You can’t just look at someone for the first time and decide that they’re it for you!” 

“I can, and I did.” 

You shake your head, wiping away a stray tear with the heel of your hand. “I-I don’t love you.” 

“You don’t, or you won’t?” 

“You’re a danger to yourself! If you loved me, truly, then you wouldn’t put me through the risk of losing you every time you get behind the wheel.” 

It’s Mingyu’s turn to shake his head. “That’s all I am, then, yeah? I’m just a stupid guy that drives fast for money, and that’s all I’ll ever be?” Even when you open your money to respond, he ignores you and continues talking. “You’re doin’ this on purpose. You don’t want to admit to yourself that I’m more than what you’ve chosen to see. You won’t even give me a chance to be anything else.” 

The conversation is starting to make you dizzy. You press your middle finger to one of your temples, rubbing small circles against your skin. “It was just one kiss, Mingyu.” 

“Then kiss me again and show me that I got worked up over somethin’ that I shouldn’t have.” 

You can’t. You shouldn’t. You know exactly what needs to happen in order to prove to him that you aren’t the one, that he should back off and keep searching for the true love of his life, and you also know that you aren’t going to be able to fake it. You don’t feel your emotions as intensely as Mingyu does, but you’re never going to be able to escape this whirlwind if you kiss him now. 

You kiss him anyway. 

Your hands are trembling as you hold his face, pulling him in and pressing your lips against his. He lets you take the lead, slowly slotting his lips between yours only after you’ve initiated movement. Your actions are impossibly calculated as you try to exercise restraint, but, once again, you forget yourself. Your hands work their way into Mingyu’s hair – it's gotten longer since the last time that you did this – and you grip the strands tightly as you pull him closer. He, on the other hand, remembers his manners. He smiles against your lips before he pulls away, and the soft whimper that he hears from you nearly makes him dive right back in. 

“You’re so full of shit.” He whispers, eyes still closed, his lips ghosting against yours. “You love me.” 

“I-I don’t.” You respond, breathless. 

“Yeah?” He presses his lips against yours again, pulling away when you try to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He’s taunting you, and you hate that you like it. You hate that he knows exactly what he needs to do to keep you wanting more. “Then we’re done here, I guess.” 

“No, we’re not.” Whispering against his lips draws a shiver up your spine. “Don’t go.” 

“You don’t love me, remember?” 

“Come home with me.” Mingyu stills against you, swallowing thickly. He hopes that you can’t hear his heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. “Skip your race and fuck me instead.” 

His chest tightens, as does his grip on your hip. “You’re---that’s not fair.” 

“I’m in love with a guy that does everything that I stand against. Life isn’t fair.” 

“R-Right.” Mingyu presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shut as he resumes his ministrations against your skin. He can’t believe how the tides have turned, but he’s not going to ruin it. Not again. Both of you are quiet as you even out your breathing, but finally, Mingyu cuts through the silence. “Counteroffer. I fuck you after my race when I’m ten grand richer.” 

“Get a real job, and then I’ll be impressed by you making money.” 

“Like a cop, right?” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss. “Or a firefighter?” Another kiss. “Aren’t men more attractive when they have money?” 

You exhale deeply as you pull yourself away from Mingyu. “Look, I—we—there need to be rules if we’re going to... be something. T-Together.” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in anticipation, and you sigh again. “Sex is a reward that you get when you skip races.” 

“That’s a punishment for both of us.” 

You ignore him and move on. “I don’t want to know details after the fact. Let me know as soon as possible if you’re alive or not.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Okay, I promise I will let you know as soon as I can if I die.” 

“That’s... all. For now.” You clasp your hands together, tilting your head as you look at him. “So? Are you skipping tonight.” 

“Baby, it’s ten grand.” Mingyu whines, reaching out and taking both of your hands in his. Your heart skips a few beats while he laces your fingers with his. “I’ll skip the one I have tomorrow. Promise.” 

“Maybe I won’t want to have sex with you tomorrow.” You lilt your words, looking to the side. 

Mingyu sighs loudly, swinging your hands gently. “I’d be content to sit and stare at you, too.” 

+ + +

As expected, Mingyu wins his race and the ten grand. As promised, he skipped his race on the following day and came to see you instead. That’s why you’re in his lap, and why his shirt is already off, and why you’re sure that he can feel how wet you are through your shorts. You opted to forego underwear in favor of easier access, and you made sure to encourage Chan to go out for dinner after his own race, too. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease.” Mingyu rasps, sliding a hand under your shirt. His hand travels against the expanse of your abdomen before cupping your breast, settling there to squeeze and knead your flesh as he continues sucking bruises against your collarbone. “Playin’ hard to get but wantin’ me just as bad.” 

“D-Dirty words coming from a p-pretty mouth.” You gasp, paying homage to something he’d said to you the first time that you met. 

Mingyu smiles against you, the feeling of his teeth grazing against the tender spots of your skin making you shiver. “It gets dirtier, angel, don’t worry.” 

You roll your hips against his, eliciting a groan. That spurs you on to do it again, pausing to gyrate against his erection, whimpering quietly at its contact with your core. There are layers of clothes in the way, but you know they’ll be gone soon enough. For now, the sweat collecting on Mingyu’s forehead, the parting of his lips, and the grunts and groans spilling from them are enough to keep you occupied. He squeezes your breast in response to the friction, using his other hand to cup your neck and pull your face down for a kiss. 

You sigh against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, languid movements that correspond well with the rhythm that you’re using to grind on his lap. He pulls away after only a few minutes, eyes following the trail of saliva connecting the two of you until it breaks, and then he looks at you. His pupils are blown out – probably just like yours – and your stomach flips at the wicked grin that blooms on his face. 

“Can I fuck you with my fingers first?” 

The words ignite a fire that quickly spreads across the expanse of your skin. You grip Mingyu’s shoulders and lift yourself off of him, hovering above his lap so that he can pull your shorts off. He groans when he sees that you aren’t wearing underwear, and his mouth waters at the prospect of tasting you. Today, he’ll go easy and prep you with his fingers. Next time, though, he wants his tongue buried in your folds until you’re begging him to stop. 

“Such a tease.” He says again, laughing to himself. “Turn around.” 

You do as he says, and he eases you against him with gentle hands on your shoulders. Your back is pressed against his chest, your heartbeat can be felt so strongly that someone could take your pulse by pressing just about another, and when Mingyu hooks his legs under yours to keep them wedged open, you know that you’re done for. 

He drops his chin and lets it rest on your shoulder, watching as best as he can as he slides his index finger up and down against your entrance, collecting your arousal. “I can’t believe you tried to keep this pretty little pussy from me. It’s mine now, though, isn’t it?” 

“Y-Yes,” You stutter out, gasping once Mingyu inserts his finger. He’s only partially inside, only to the second knuckle, but his fingers are so much longer than yours, and every other time you’ve fingered yourself doesn’t compare to how good it feels to have him inside instead. “It’s yours.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He coos, sliding his finger out and then back in. His rhythm is slow, and his movements are shallow, but as soon as he feels you relax, he’ll give you more. Normally impatient, Mingyu has all the time in the world to fuck you properly. He presses kisses against the side of your neck while he builds up a faster tempo, strands of hair falling over his eyes and tickling the underside of your jaw. You exhale quietly, and once he feels your shoulders drop, he inserts his finger completely on the next thrust. 

You whimper against him, back arching, and he uses the opportunity to wrap an arm across you diagonally, cupping your other breast through your shirt. “Don’t run away from me. I want you to be all stretched out and ready for my cock. You want my cock today, don’t you?” 

“Fuck.” You groan, tilting your head back to rest against Mingyu. He’s gradually picking up speed, and the way that you clench at his words only encourages him to do more; to say more, and to add another finger. So that’s what he does, slow as he brings in his middle finger, starting at just the second knuckle so that you can adjust to the feeling. “I want your c-cock.” 

“I know you do.” He presses his cheek against the side of your head, his lips positioned right against your ear. “You’re gonna get my cock. You’re gonna take it, all of it, everything that I give you tonight.” He punctuates his words by sliding both of his fingers into you fully, and the curl of his fingers makes you cry out involuntarily. He grins to himself and goes again, reaching for that same spot inside of you, grinning even wider when you cry again. “There we go. That’s where my baby likes to get fucked, yeah? Wish my tongue could go that far.” 

“Y-Your cock can reach.” 

Mingyu laughs out loud, stilling his fingers inside of you to stroke your g-spot again and again. “That’s true. I’ll make you cum with my cock next. Sound good?” You’re trembling in his arms, your legs having tried to clamp shut several times. He falls into a rhythm of cramming his fingers inside, hooking them and nudging your g-spot with them, and sliding them back out, and he gets so focused on making you cum that he furrows his brow, lips parted in the concentration. 

You’re panting loudly now, thrashing as best as you can in his hold, unable to run from the pleasure that’s edging closer and closer. “M-Mingyu--” 

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.” 

“K-Keep—fuck—M-Min--” 

“You’re doin’ so good. My pretty baby, such an angel.” 

It’s the praise that finally sends you toppling over the cliff; that, and his thumb kneading your clit, which you hadn’t even noticed until he stills his movements. You clench around Mingyu as you orgasm, and his ego grows three sizes at the ironclad grip that your pussy has on his fingers. He brings his free hand up to stroke the side of your face as you come, still pinning you against him with his forearm to keep you from slumping forward. “You don’t wanna let me go, huh? Want to stay like this forever?” 

“N-No.” You sigh, the stars in your vision finally subsiding. Your chest heaves up and down as you work to catch your breath, leaning back against Mingyu and turning your head to place a kiss against his cheek. “You promised to fuck me properly. Unless you’re too tired...” 

“Angel, if you’re implyin’ that I’m all speed and no stamina--” 

“I’m not implying anything. I’m wondering why your dick is still in your pants and not inside of me.” 

Mingyu stares at you, then blinks, and then smiles. It’s a real, genuine smile, not his signature smirk or crooked, self-satisfied grin. He tilts your chin up to place a proper kiss on your lips and then reaches behind him, blindly feeling the top of your nightstand until he finds the condom he’d brought. He eases you off his lap and fully rolls off the bed, offering you reprieve while he brings his cock out of his shorts. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he pumps himself, rolling on the condom with haste you haven’t seen from any of your previous sexual partners before. 

“We’re gonna go slow, okay?” He asks, slotting himself between your legs. He’s careful as he maneuvers himself around your limbs, groaning to himself once you wrap your legs around him and cross your ankles. You’re so eager now, but just yesterday, you almost rejected him for the second time. “Th-- y-you’re not going slow, angel.” 

“I thought you liked to go fast.” You draw out your words, lilting your voice. Mingyu ignores your comment, just this once, and grips you by one of your hips. He’s concentrated as he lines himself up at your entrance before letting go of his cock and swiping a finger against your folds again. You furrow your brows, sitting up as best as you can to look at him. 

He has the finger in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it. He only notices you staring at him once he pulls it out of his mouth. He grins, a little bashful, as he looks back down and grabs his dick again. “I forgot to taste you.” 

You clench around nothing at his words, groaning softly, but when he finally presses the tip of his cock against your slit, it feels like a jolt of electricity. You do your best to lay still as he inches inside of you, stopping every time that he feels resistance against him, but the tip of his cock nudges against your g-spot when he finally bottoms out and your back arches. Your hands flail around, looking for something to hold, something to keep you anchored, but you just have to settle for gripping the sheets on either side of you. You crumble the fabric in your hands, eyes squeezed shut, letting yourself adjust the feeling of Mingyu inside of you. 

Maybe today will be fine, but you can easily foresee having an insanely hot boyfriend with a big dick as being a problem in the future. 

“Let me know when I can move, baby.” 

“Can’t we just stay like this forever?” You sigh, lolling your head to the side and looking up at Mingyu. The sight makes your heart flutter; his hair is sweaty, pushed back at the forehead but with strands still obscuring parts of his vision; the different scratches, bruises, and bites that you’d given him while making out were finally starting to bloom red on his skin. He’s looking back at you, and the look in his eyes makes you think that he’d be content with that, too. “You can quit... y’know, your job... and just become my trophy husband. Keep the house clean and fuck me through my Zoom meetings.” 

“Sounds like a dream. Did we really go this far just so you could cockwarm me, though?” 

“No.” You laugh, reaching out for Mingyu. He meets you halfway, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You can move now.” 

You don’t hear it clearly, but you swear that Mingyu whispers Thank God to himself before he slides his hands just above your ass, hoisting up your hips for the best angle. His initial pace is slow, painstakingly slow, but the string of moans that falls from your lips spurs him to speed up. At first, he sheaths himself completely inside of you before pulling almost completely out, leaving just the head of dick inside before thrusting back up into you. As he continues, though, he’s more urgent. He wants to minimize the amount of time he spends not inside of you, so his thrusts become shallower. He’s soon thrusting into you at breakneck speed, slowing every so often to make sure his angle is right and that you’re enjoying this just as much as he is. 

“How we doin’, angel?” 

“I want to ride you next time.” 

“Fuck.” Mingyu groans, sliding a hand up to caress your calf. The room is quiet, save for the squeaking of your bedframe and the sound of Mingyu’s balls slapping against you with every thrust. Every so often, he thrusts perfectly, and you’re brought up from the bed again. Mingyu curses himself that he didn’t ask you to take your shirt off – this would all be even better if your tits were bouncing in his face. “A-Are you close? What do you need from me?” 

You hold out your hand, and he grabs it. You’ll be able to show him better than tell him. You lead his hand down, pressing his thumb against your clit again. He immediately gets to work, rolling the nub between his thumb and index finger, and you hold onto his wrist as you gasp for air. His touch is cool against your feverish skin, and you tell yourself that you’re royally fucked just as Mingyu’s thrusts become staccato. 

“I--I’m--” 

“Inside, Mingyu, p-please.” You sigh, using your free hand to caress his bicep. “Cum inside of m-me.” 

“A-Are you s-s--” 

You draw him in closer to you, and the squeeze his body against yours, and the squeeze of your pussy around him, does exactly what it should. He’s loud as he cums, his body spasming as he shoots inside of you. You’re disappointed at the lack of warmth, warmth you would’ve felt if he hadn’t worn a condom, but there will be time for unprotected. For now, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself to orgasm while Mingyu rides out his own. 

You’re afraid that you’ve lost it, but Mingyu recovers quickly enough to resume his ministrations against your clit. For good measure, he leans down and kisses you, and all of the sensations – his cock still inside of you, his fingers on your clit, his tongue shoved down your throat – are enough to bring you back up and back over the cliff. Your whimpers are drowned out by Mingyu’s grunts as you squeeze around him. He lowers himself onto you completely as you ride out your orgasm, trembling and spasming underneath him until you’re finally able to go still. He finds enough energy to lift his head and look at your face, laughing when he notices the tear that’d rolled down your cheek. 

“Cute.” He reaches up and brushes it away with his finger, letting his arm drape across you. You don’t know how long the two of you lay like that; Mingyu, pressed on top of you, his cock still nestled inside of you, one arm draped across your body with his face nuzzled into your neck and you, pinned against the mattress, one hand caressing his back while the other cards through his hair. It feels like it’s been mere seconds, but an eternity could pass, and you’d still feel like it wasn’t enough time.

+ + +

It’s the call that you always expected, but simultaneously, always hoped you’d never get. 

You’re numb as you rise from your bed, rifling through your drawers in the dark for clothes to change into. It doesn’t feel like you’re responsible for moving through your bedroom, getting dressed as best one can when they can’t feel anything. Chan is already waiting for you at the front door, unwilling to look at your face as he leads you out, locking the door behind the two of you and following you into the elevator just as the doors start to close. He must’ve gotten a call, too. 

It feels right to drive in complete silence. You’re unable to convince yourself to bring your eyes into focus. Maybe, if you don’t look, then this won’t be real: you aren’t actually en route to the hospital’s emergency room, and you didn’t actually get a call from an unknown number, telling you that Mingyu had crashed during his race and that he was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Chan isn’t actually driving you, speechless and quiet for the first time since you’d met him. You aren’t actually being led through the tiled corridor of the hospital, harsh fluorescent lights guiding your venture down the endless hallway toward your boyfriend’s room. 

Mingyu is drinking from a juice box when you finally set eyes on him. That little fucker. 

All things considered, he looks fine. His left arm is in a sling, and there’s a deep horizontal gash underneath one of his eyes, and there are bruises starting to bloom along the crook of his neck. Otherwise, though, he’s fine. He isn’t intubated, and actually, the only other things attached to him are an IV and the heart rate monitor clipped onto his finger. 

Chan enters the room a few seconds after you, letting out a huge sigh of relief at the sigh. He holds a hand to his forehead before swinging back around and stepping outside. He knows that he doesn’t want to hear the words you’ll choose to say to Mingyu. 

“I love you. I love you so, so, so much.” 

“Fuck you.” You spit, drawing in your arms and crossing them over your chest. He knows that he deserves this, but he still winces at the venom dripping from your words and the daggers that you’re shooting at him with your eyes. “I thought that you died, you fucking asshole! You—I am so fucking mad right now, I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I’m sorry. I-I was careful, I promise.” 

“You’re a fucking liar! You’re in the hospital, Mingyu. Careful people don’t go to the hospital!” 

You sit on the chair in the corner, purposefully away from your boyfriend, even though you didn’t miss the way that he scooted to the side in his bed to make room for you. You’re able to see his face better from this angle. He looks... tired. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced, and for the first time since you’ve met him, he doesn’t look happy following one of his races. Figures, since he’d crashed his car. Still, there’s something different about him today. 

“You must’ve been worried. I’m sorry, my angel.” 

You sigh loudly, shaking your head. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be my boyfriend that works a shitty job. Hell, you don’t even need to work. We can survive on my income, and I can come home to you every day and that’ll be enough, because I’ll be happy, and you’ll be alive.” You take a breath after your monologue, exhaling slowly. “Because that’s the bar that you’ve set. I’m just happy that you’re still breathing.” 

“I have somethin’ to say, too.” You look up at him, raising your eyebrows and clasping your hands together. Mingyu chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before he sighs, too. “I’m a racer. I’ve been racin’ for... God, I don’t know. I’ve been racin’ for a long time.” You let your head fall, anticipating what he’s going to say. “All that I’ve ever cared about is going fast and makin’ money. And then I met you, and my priorities... shifted. A little.” You squeeze your hands together, willing yourself to calm down. Mingyu was proving your assumptions wrong with his words, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself. 

“You... I think I’d rather die than lose you. I-I guess, if I died, that I would lose you, but th—that's not the point. I started fallin’ in love with you the very moment that I first saw you, and since then, I haven’t wanted to take my eyes off you. You’re everythin’ to me now. Racin’ is... I’ll quit. I’m sorry, and I love you, and I’ll quit if it means that we’ll stay together.” 

Hot tears are already rolling down your cheeks, and as hard as you try to keep that from Mingyu, your sniffling gives you away. He coos from his place in bed and starts to throw his blankets off to approach you, but you hold your hand up and he stills. Offering another sniffle, you rise from your chair, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. He looks at you, expectantly, and you, begrudgingly, reach out a hand. You weren’t expecting to forgive him so quickly. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Angel, please.” Mingyu takes your hand, trying to tug you closer to him. “Look at me. I just... you’re doin’ that thing again, where you let me bare my soul and then don’t really respond.” 

You shake your head, tears flying from your eyes and landing on the hospital blanket covering Mingyu’s legs. He scoffs, using his other hand to reach forward and tilt your chin up. Seeing you cry makes his heart split and shatter, and tears start to form in his own eyes. 

“I’m so fucking mad at you, Mingyu.” 

He bites his tongue to refrain from cracking a joke, as he normally would. Instead, he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “And I want to stick around, so that I can keep makin’ you mad.” 

“You promise?” You ask, searching his eyes for any hint of dishonesty. “You’re really done racing?” 

“I don’t break my promises. Not the ones that I make to you. I promise, I swear, that I’m done.”

+ + +

“Baby, it’s late. Can we just go to sleep? Please?” 

“I’m making room in your closet for my clothes, Gyu.” You scoff, pulling out another jacket. You glance over it before flipping it around, showing it to your boyfriend. “Do you wear this?” 

He furrows his brows, thinking it over before dismissing you with a wave. “Not really.” 

“Okay.” You toss the jacket into the box you’d designated for donating, dropping the hanger on the closet floor. Mingyu yawns loudly, stretching out in the middle of his bed. You know what he’s doing; he’s trying to entice you into joining him. He wants to persuade you to stop doing the task that he’d already put off for weeks in favor of crawling into his lap, maybe going to sleep or maybe not. Still, you’re not ready to quit yet. You pull out another jacket and repeat your actions, holding it in front of you for Mingyu to inspect it. 

“Donate.” 

You nod, silently agreeing with his decision. You reach back into the closet, reaching for the next jacket to pull out, but your fingers freeze when you realize what you’re touching. You pull out the leather jacket slowly – Mingyu's racing jacket. It’s the one that he was wearing the first time that you kissed him, and the second time. He wore it for your first date, claiming that it was ‘good luck,’ and he even wore it that one time that you let him fuck you against the hood of his racecar. You hold your breath as you turn around, and Mingyu’s expression darkens when he realizes what you’re holding. 

He doesn’t know how to play this. It’s been months since his accident, which means it’s been months since he quit racing. He misses it sometimes, but you’re more important to him. He lets each day drag on so long as they promise, that at sundown, he’ll be able to come back to his apartment and you’ll be waiting, smiling, happy, healthy. That jacket means a lot to him. 

“Donate.” 

You mean more to him. 

“Aw, really?” You whine, looking back down at the jacket. Mingyu scoffs and pushes himself further up on the bed, watching closely as you run your fingertips along the leather. “You looked so good when you used to wear this. I think my mouth was watering the first time we met.” 

“Fuck off.” Mingyu laughs, waving you away again. “You keep it then, angel. I looked good in the jacket because I’m good looking. Please don’t attribute my good looks to my jackets.” 

You put the jacket back into the closet regardless, finally shuffling across the room to the bed. You sigh as you let yourself fall onto the mattress, groaning as Mingyu rolls you onto your stomach and then tugs you closer to him. You let him do all the work, only shifting once he’s positioned underneath you. You let one of your hands snake underneath his shirt, resting on his abdomen and applying pressure, just for good measure. 

“Do you miss it?” You whisper, cheek smushed against his cheek. 

“Sometimes.” Mingyu whispers back, tracing shapes against your back. “I think it suited me. I was good at makin’ split-second decisions, and it worked because the only person affected by those decisions was me. And then...” He trails off, considering his next words carefully. “Then I met the love of my life, and they tried so hard to hate me and push me a—hey!” 

He whines as you pinch him, prying your hand off him. He tsks at you, shaking his head before continuing his story. “As I was saying, the love of my life wanted to push me away ‘cause they didn’t want to be attached to someone with so little regard for their own life. And I couldn’t blame them, y’know? I wasn’t happy about it, though, so I kept tryin’ and, somehow, it worked.” 

“I already know the story, Gyu.” You grumble. Still, you’ll never get tired of hearing him refer to you as the love of his life. You still have no idea how he knew, from that very first moment, that it had to be you, though. “I love you too. I don’t think I say it enough.” 

“I didn’t want this to become sappy.” He sneers, pinching your cheek. “I was actually hopin’ that you’d ride my face.” 

“I’m tired.” You yawn, replacing your hand on his chest, over his shirt, and rubbing up and down along his abdomen. “I could give you a hand job, though.” 

“Don’t want that.” Mingyu groans. 

You lift your eyebrows in surprise. Your boyfriend, turning down a hand job? You lift your hand up and press the back of it against his forehead. “You don’t have a fever, though.” 

“You’re annoying.” He scowls. “You just told me that you don’t want me to eat you out, and I’m not makin’ a big deal of it.” 

You let your hand drop from Mingyu’s forehead, tracing your fingertips along his jaw. “If we’re both tired, we can just fuck in the morning.” 

“We don’t fuck in the morning.” You offer him a quizzical look. He wraps both of his arms around you, squeezing you and rolling both of you until you’re on your back and his cheek is pressed against your stomach. “In the morning, we make love.” 

“Didn’t you call me a slut the last time that we made love?” 

He lifts his head up, narrowing his eyes at you. “You liked it.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You sigh, easing your fingers through Mingyu’s hair and forcing his head back down, onto your stomach. “Where do you think you’d be if we hadn’t met?” 

“Wildly unhappy.” He scoffs. “Dead. What about you?” 

You hum quietly, scratching against his scalp. “Probably... also unhappy. Well, I don’t think that I wasn’t happy before I met you, but I think, right now, I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been.” 

The two of you lapse into silence. The sounds of the neighborhood – dogs barking, cars honking – seep through every so often, but you hardly noticed, aware, instead, of your boyfriend’s presence. When you first met Mingyu, you knew that he would find a way to infiltrate your life, to become the oxygen that you needed to breathe. When you first met Mingyu, you felt like you were breathing and drowning at the same time. Nowadays, you don’t feel like you’re drowning, but you aren’t breathing normally, either. It’s the same for him, you’re sure; it’s all about him, even when it isn’t. You could be focused on something else, but you’ll never be able to fully attend to anything else. 

It’s for this reason that you’ve had to scold him, on so many occasions, to keep his eyes on the road when driving. He just can’t seem to focus on anything but you, and somehow, his recklessness has worn off and you find yourself in the same predicament. 

Just as you finally shut your eyes, you feel Mingyu twitching against you. 

He’s laughing. “It’s a good thing that you decided to fuck with a racer, huh?”

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter seventeen

close to home | chapter seventeen

plot: the reader is on the run with Tyreese, Mika, Lizzie, and Judith. Meanwhile, Beth tries to get Daryl to talk about his grief and not give up hope

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,112 Warnings: violence, blood, loss, grief A/N: thanks for reading!

“We can’t be the only survivors,” Beth said, looking at the burning fire. The night air was hot, and the fire didn’t help. But they needed something to cook their dinner on. When she looked up at Daryl, he, too, was staring at the fire. She could see the sweat on his face, the dirt that coated it. The exhaustion and sorrow that were written across his face were enough to make her own heartache.

“We can’t be,” Beth said again, louder. In the distance, an owl hooted, and she looked over toward the sound for a moment, but it didn’t sound again. “Maggie, Glenn… (Y/N).” 

At the sound of your name, Daryl looked up. “She was in the quarantine cell block. It took a hit from the damn tank. She’s…” But he couldn’t finish his sentence. You were gone. Dead. And his heart was so heavy and so broken that it sat on his lungs, making each breath more difficult than the last. 

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything,” Beth said. “I bet you that they’re all alive. And they’re lookin’ for us too.” 

Daryl didn’t respond and looked at the fire again. He didn’t need to argue with her. He knew the truth. You were gone. The prison was gone. Everyone and everything he loved was gone. He had nothing else to live for.

***

A mile south, you and Tyreese led the girls through the woods. You weren’t sure where you were going. You weren’t even sure where you were. You just knew that you had to keep moving. You had to find somewhere safe. Somewhere you could pull yourself together and continue on. No matter how hard it would be. 

“Look, grapes!” Mika suddenly yelled, running over to a huge bush. Tyreese stopped walking and turned back. You and Lizzie paused as well. “Can we eat them?”

You walked over to the plant and inspected the bush before nodding. “Yes, go ahead.”

Judith started fussing, and Tyreese bent down to change her while you kept watching around the group. The girls devoured as many grapes as possible and started to pull a bunch out and collect them. They offered some to Tora, but she deemed them unacceptable. 

Rustling in the bush caused Mika to scream, and she took off. 

“Shit,” You cursed, grabbing your machete and running after the young girl. 

Tyreese and Lizzie were soon on your trail, and you started panicking when Mika came out from behind a tree. You breathed a sigh of relief as Tyreese spoke to her in his gentle tone and looked around the area again. 

“Tyreese!” You yelled when you heard someone screaming, and the man ran over to you. 

“I’m going to go check it out,” He said, handing you Judith. 

“No-”

“It could be people from the prison, and you need to stay with the girls,” He said. Before you could say anything else, he took off. You sighed loudly, handed the baby to Lizzie, and then whistled for Tora. She was given to Mika, and you grabbed Lizzie’s gun, standing on guard. 

“(Y/N)!” Mika yelled when something rustled behind the bush. You cocked the gun and aimed, ready to fire. 

“Don’t shoot (Y/N). It’s me.”

You dropped the gun and sighed with relief when you saw it was Carol, and you took a few steps to hug her tightly. “Thank God. I didn’t know who got out. I couldn’t see anyone,” You said, giving her another squeeze before you let go. 

Both the girls gave Carol the best hug they could with their arms full, and both started asking her questions in overexcitement. But you spoke above them both. 

“Did anyone else make it?”

Looking sadly at you, Carol said, “I don’t know.” 

You nodded and blinked back a few tears. “We heard someone in trouble. We should go see if Tyreese needs help.” 

***

“What do you think?”

“I’m not sure….”

“Our people could see these signs,” You said, your finger anxiously playing with the string of your bow. “Daryl and Maggie and Beth and Uncle Hershel. Anyone could have.”

The three of you exchanged a look and then looked at the girls. They were all so young; Judith was only a baby. You knew the three of you could keep the safe, but for how long? There’s a reason there weren’t too many kids at the prison. 

You swallowed thickly and looked back at Tyreese and Carol. “We need to go. For them.”

***

Daryl wasn’t sure how long it had been since the prison fell. Two, maybe three? His days consisted of running and finding food. Beth was growing tired and only cared about having a drink. Every time he looked at her he could only think about you. The two of you shared blood, and your smiles were similar. He was thankful he was able to save your cousin, even if he couldn’t save you. 

The taste of moonshine was like ash in his mouth, but it made him feel better, and he kept drinking, even if the voice in his head told him no. 

“We should try and find a map of the area, like at a gas station or something,” Beth said, wiping her mouth with a dirty wrist. “We can x out areas we’ve been to.”

“What for?”

“To look. I want to look for Maggie and (Y/N).”

Daryl shook his head and took a drink. “They dead.”

“No, they ain’t and stop saying that. You don’t know it.” She said, watching the sorrow on his face. “What was even goin’ on between you and (Y/N) anyway. Everyone saw it.”

“Saw what?”

Beth shrugged, “The way you two look at each other, I guess.”

The alcohol in his system made it harder to picture your face, and anger and frustration flooded his veins. “It don’ matter. We’re never seein’ her again.”

***

Just past dawn, Daryl collapsed to his knees with Beth’s name unspoken on his lips. He had no idea how the night had turned so shitty and how he had lost her. He didn’t know which direction the car had taken her, and he didn’t know where to begin trying to find her. 

The asphalt bit at his knees as he slammed a fist to the ground, crying in desperation. He was utterly and pathetically alone. He’d failed to keep the prison safe and you safe and alive after promising to do just that, and now he lost your cousin. He had failed, and now he had nothing. 

[void-damned]

My Dishonored Winter Feast (@dishonoredgiftexchange) gift for Eva (@vilecrocodile) trying to mash up as many prompts together as possible. Hope you and the rest of this story's readers enjoy this pure chaos and improv :)

Cathedral With No Gods

Working or alternative title: pass me the knife (and i'll eat you alive) Rating: M Word Count: 46,095 Warnings: Canon-typical Violence, Temporary Character Death, Graphic Descriptions of Gore

Pairings: Billie Lurk/ Emily Kaldwin (main), Mindy Blanchard/Lizzy Stride

Dozens of leaflets crowd Emily's vision and cold sweat runs down her back - a face that belongs to her but is not hers stares right back at her, looking through her. She recognises a shadow of herself pressing a knife into an innocent man's throat but knows that it is not her hand that drove it in.

If she is in Dunwall—with everyone's eyes on her at all times—then who is the person murdering civilians in Karnaca, and why do people believe it could be her?

When the Empress' face is stolen, she embarks on a journey back to her father's homeland to clean her name and take back what's hers.

(Special 'Thank you' goes to Light (@no-light-left-on) for having to endure my whining, and Control (@uncontrol-freak) for getting their own share of it and for proofreading this monstrous thing! :D)

[life-winners-liveblog]

But anyways- live reactions woo!

(May 9/10/11); The fact that LL!Scott thinks burning alive/falling in lava would be the worst way to die due to continuing to feel the pain. And yet thats how LimL!Martyn killed his Scott

Oh I see, whispers have already hinted at it... Meanwhile Martyn is being asked about food lmao. Also poor Martyn still getting things thrown at him

Oooo Grian's statement about infection is interesting... does that mean someone who died with Wither poisoning still constantly feels the effects? It would be interesting to see. My personal concept of the Wither effect is that long or extreme exposure leaves your skin a very sickly pale, allowing you to slightly see your veins through it, veins of which have been tinged black by the effect. Further prolonged exposure would result in things like the your fingers and hands being stained black, as if all the previous warmth and redness of your skin has been overtaken by the cold painful chill of the withering.

I believe I understand what Scar was truly meaning with his answer. And as someone with a chronic illness... I definitely get it. Slowly watching as your body loses function, even though my body is still technically fine at this point, I will likely need a wheelchair in the next 20 years which is.. hard to accept. Especially as someone who love traveling and hiking. To know I have a time limit. A ticking clock you could say. Its... difficult. It affects you, mentally, to know you only have so long. And unlike the games, there is no way to postpone it. There is no fight to survive. Just... living while you have the chance. Doing what you can with the time you have.

Ah yes, we can always trust Cleo to think of dismemberment. (midway through writing this, specifically Cleo's. my other page refreshed and sent me back to the top... thank you Cleo for driving me insane even in the real world /j)

Also the whole- 24 facets of yourself thing with Pearl- Aeor I could not deal with that. Thank god I'm not the one with the tie. Though I am curious as to how it would affect DL!Scott, and what his different facets would look like.

Aaand there's Martyn with Withering. So perhaps thine Author's thoughts on the matter are similar to my own.

Ooo Pearl with the frostbite. A very understandable answer, though interesting that it is practically the exact opposite of Scott's. Eternally freezing, so cold that it burns. Crystalizing your skin, slowly sapping your energy, till you can do nothing but succumb yourself to your fate. Compared to burning. Truly burning away, a fate DL!Etho and Joel are actually very familiar with. Along with LimL!Scott. Burning to a crisp, or burning away in magma. Either one having to slowly feel the heat burning away your flesh, and melding your clothes and armor into your skin. While it would be a slow process moving around the void constantly frozen, the pain of trying to move with charred limbs embedded with iron... Both fates truly torturous.

OH I FORGOT ABOUT DYING TO THE VOID! Good call LL!Martyn. I forget just how the void technically kills you but I believe it would have to do with the lack of heat sources and air. So yeah freezing and suffocating eternally wouldn't be fun. I guess we could always ask SL!Lizzie what it's like, if she'd be willing to talk about it.

-Xas

Ohhhh smart! I like the analysis done like this.

[lizzieblabbers]

gray november i've been down since july

yeah, no shit.

EDIT 290323 : HELLO TUMBLR i wasn't supposed to post this rn (can't even remember what i have written here?? see the goldfish memory xD) but i respect my effort of writing this so here yaa gO

--

today's already the 26th of january, and i'm sitting in front of my computer, contemplating on what to say after all these months

tbh, i've planned to just merge this one with the december entry to have some sort of a 'year-ender' summary of my life lately, but i'm afraid this post that has been sitting in the drafts folder for too long for it not to be a separate one so i said fuck it and do this (plus i really like the title so yay)

OKAY

so as far as i can remember, november was such a busy month and ended in a way i didn't expect. not gonna delve deeper into the details, but it was really unexpected and definitely caused a shift in my beliefs in life and love

ANYYYYWAAYYYY

november was the start of my thesis month and since then it has been stressful. the weekly workloads were crazy, and i barely had the energy and the mental capacity to do anything. yet i did it, because i was afraid to fail.

the fear to look like a loser was what drove me to accomplish the things i did

--

THAT'S ALL I'VE GOT FOR YOU FOLKS

ill come back stronger than a 90s trend, i promise *wink* *wink*

[royallygray]

So in your superhero-soul link-au thingy the skyblings and the seablings are all siblings. So how does that work?

Like are they all avians but also with fins and gills? Do we get moth Pearl or avian Pearl or fish Pearl? Does Lizzie have bird wings? Do they have to keep not being human a secret or are they just open about it? Are they all full siblings or are some half siblings or adopted? Please ive been thinking about this for so long.

WHAT DOES PEARL LOOK LIKE IM DOING AN ART

Firstly, omg omg omg omg OH MY GOD OH MY GOD??? YOU WANT TO DO AN ART?? FOR MY SILLY LITTLE AU?? OH MY GOD :D

Secondly, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE QUESTIONS AGDHLSJDFSDFJ (gives me an excuse/a prompt to rant :D)

I’m so honored.

It gets a little (read: a lot) extensive bc I like to give a lot of background and reasoning for why stuff is the way it is but in case I get rly unclear the direct answers to each question will be at the end.

Grian and Pearl are biological siblings that share both parents (they have two moms, one is trans and one is cis, and they are fantastic parents who are so in love with each other. Both are avian hybrids.) Pearl is one year older than Grian. Their family name is Azure. They don’t have fish traits.

Grian has the traditional parrot red-yellow-blue wings and Pearl has midnight blue wings with gray and white speckles on the bottom half. Idk if they have the ear wings.

Lizzie and Jimmy share a dad, who is a piscine hybrid. (Piscine is basically just the word avian (relating to birds) for fish. Saying fish hybrid sounded significantly less cool so I found this and now they are piscine hybrids. Also it sounds like pool in spanish which. is fine i guess fuck you latin.) The dad’s last name is Marina, because of the relation to fish and the sea and stuff, but it’s also Marina and not Marine because I’m pretty sure I was listening to Oh No! or Seventeen (by Marina) while creating the name.

Jimmy’s mom was human, and Lizzie’s mom is fae. Lizzie is the same age as Grian, and they’re about five years older than Jimmy.

Lizzie has piscine traits (fins, gills along with lungs, ear fins) AND has fae wings and her eyes tend to glow. The piscine is from ESMP1 axolotl and the fae is from the Fairy Fort in LL. Jimmy is supposed to have piscine traits, (cod, courtesy of ESMP1) and he was born with them. However, within the day he was born, the fins and gills started either falling off or self destructing, respectively. He started growing wings (which o7 to the nurses of this imaginary hospital jesus christ) and the ear wings. So within the day he was born, he completely transferred from being a healthy piscine baby to an avian. And due to the yellow downy feathers, Jimmy’s mom knew that he was the canary. (also rip Jimmy’s mom you will be missed o7)

So Jimmy’s mom (Last name Solidarity. Jimmy's last name was supposed to be Solidarity-Marina) was besties with one of the Skybling moms, and she was basically like “hi bestie you have avian kids, right? mhm so essentially my kiddo was a fish and now hes not a fish and he’s a bird and this is a problem because I think he’s the prophecy which means that he’s got a TARGET on his head and I want my son alive. if you guys accept him into your family, it will look significantly less suspicious. also i’m not gonna make it that childbirth took a lot out of me”

negotiations were made between the four adults (jimmy’s mom, seablings’ dad, skyblings’ moms) and jimmy got very subtly adopted before his mom died. (o7, we will miss you)

When Jimmy’s somewhere from two to four, Lizzie (age ~7-9) gets adopted too because her dad is too unstable and he is BARELY keeping it together. Jimmy’s mom was the love of his life (i’m pretty sure lizzie was either the result of a one-night-stand or a mildly brief fling) and he is Not Okay. So it was arranged that Lizzie got adopted by the Azures, which she was thrilled about bc they’re cool as fuck.

(also Lizzie’s mom (Last name Shadow. Lizzie's last name is Shadow-Marina) was Not really prepared for a child. She was not emotionally prepared for the commitment of a child, nor did she actually have a stable paying job. By the time that seablings’ dad gotta go, she’s also not qualified to adopt Lizzie since there’s just a bunch of shit that she’s got going on in her life. But she does hang out with Lizzie monthly throughout her childhood with the Azures, and they still visit occasionally throughout Lizzie’s adulthood. she’s more like the cool aunt than the mom)

When the Azures adopted Lizzie, they had a pool installed in their backyard (the Azures are solid middle class. They can afford a pool bc of hybrid pensions. Hybrid pensions are basically just getting more resources to accommodate for your traits. The Azures have the Avian Mansion Pension, which is just a ginormous house because you gotta have space to stretch your wings. basically enrichment/some basic needs for hybrids)

When the kids started learning magic, specifically shifting magic, they wanted to learn how to shift to be more alike to piscine hybrids. Throughout childhood, Pearl, Grian, and Jimmy all got better at shifting to piscine hybrid traits. This hobby was to help Lizzie feel more included in culture stuff, but also if Jimmy randomly started becoming a fish again, his body wouldn’t have to build something from scratch and it would be less painful and easier to adapt to.

Pearl shifted into a salmon piscine hybrid, Grian to a cod piscine hybrid, and because Jimmy wanted to be like his cool older brother, he also shifted to a cod piscine hybrid.

(shifting is a type of Guise Magic. it’s basically glamor from through the sky blue cracks au or the Mist from PJO/HoO.)

Basically, if you draw her younger, it’s totally plausible to draw Pearl as a fish. and you could technically draw them all with fins and gills.

Lizzie never particularly cared about trying to imitate avian wings since she had her own fae wings.

I haven’t quite decided what the social system does about hybrids. Generally, I’ve been trying to make it so that humans and hybrids literally have the same social status and stuff so technically they’re equal. However, I did also make stuff like avian mansion pensions exist so idk. but they don’t need to hide their hybrid traits in public

SUMMARY BECAUSE THAT WAS REALLY FUCKING LONG LMAO:

Pearl and Grian are full avian hybrids. Jimmy is also an avian, although born piscine. Lizzie is a piscine hybrid. (Piscine is like the word avian (relating to birds) for fish.) Lizzie is the only one with fins. She has gills and also has lungs. When born, Jimmy also had gills and fins, but they dropped off and got replaced with wings and ear wings.

We get avian Pearl, but Pearl, Grian, Jimmy, and Lizzie used to roleplay as fish to practice magic for if/when Jimmy ever returned to being a piscine, and also to make Lizzie feel more included and learn some about her culture.

Lizzie does not have bird wings, but she does have fairy wings.

In this AU, hybrids aren’t treated any different than humans. They’re open about it.

Pearl and Grian are full siblings. Jimmy and Lizzie are half siblings. Jimmy and Lizzie are adopted into Pearl and Grian’s family, although Jimmy thinks he’s biologically related to Pearl & Grian (until he learns he’s not, at some point in the plot).

Hope this was clear and interesting :]

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 92. brb x oc

a/n: god i hate these two ( my day...was better so I hope this chapter was too <3 )

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: two idiots in love. <3 again.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

-

He missed her, just like he said he would.

Today more than any other day for some odd reason, maybe it was just because he was so clingy that morning. Maybe it was because Beatrice was - no,is - the kindest person he had ever met in his life and worried about his well being so often his own heart couldn’t fathom the reasons for it.

Beatrice was like that and Nicole the same way, both of his girls had him around their fingers and he wouldn’t have any other way. He pulls out the folded sticky notes from his pocket, smiling down at the cute puns she wrote that morning, brushing his finger over the tiny drawings on the sides as he leaned down on his chair.

Ah, he was a fool in love really.

He inhaled softly, slipping the papers inside his pocket before he stood up with his reports clutched in his hand. As he opens the door however, he’s surprised to see McAllister outside with his hand up as if he was about to knock. He’s about to ask what happened, only for McAllister to salute him so fast Rooster could feel his hair move because of how quick it was, “Sir!”

He clenched his eyes, then arched his brow, “McAllister.”

“Good morning,sir!” he still has his hand up, so Rooster has to physically put it down to his side before walking around the young recruit, “How is your day going,sir?”

“Good,” Rooster arches his brow to the recruit, “Yours?”

“Very good! Oh!” It was only then that Rooster noticed he had one of his hands behind his back, pulling out to reveal a glittery bag with a large red bow keeping it closed, “Here sir, it’s our gift for the little miss.”

Rooster blinked at the bag, then at McAllister, letting out an amused chuckle, “Well,I’ll be damned, thank you.” the young recruit nods, about to salute him only to keep his hand down, “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“It’s a gift from all of us,sir!” McAllister smiles, “I hope she will!” but before Bradley could turn around and put it inside his office, he’s only able to see that McAllister’s face was pale…as in, ghostly white. 

Rooster frowned, keeping his eyes on the young recruit whose mouth opened without any sounds coming out, like a fish out of the water trying his best to keep alive. The Lieutenant just frowned, “McAllister.” he tries, ‘What’s wrong? You look ready to pass out.”

A sudden clap on his shoulder makes Rooster look behind him…then a few inches lower, meeting his godfather’s light colored gaze, “Rooster, good morning. So, lunch on me today yeah?” 

Oh.

“Oh, yeah Mav.” he smiles, looking back at the young recruit who just looks absolutely flabbergasted by the whole situation, “By the way did you meet recruit McAllister?” The poor boy seemed like he was ready to jump off his own skin at any second, wide eyed and slack jawed at the mere presence of Maverick. Maverick, who either didn’t care about the wide eyed stare or was oblivious to it, just smiled towards the younger recruit.

“I didn’t but nice to meet you kid.” He just gets no response as McAllister is just staring googly eyed at him, his face going from white to red in a matter of seconds “You okay? What’s wrong with him?” Mav questions Rooster, leaning closer to his nephew in hopes the other pilot wouldn’t hear.

“I think he’s starstruck.” Rooster replies as he crosses his arms, the gift bag dangling from his fingers as he watches the scene with pure amusement. He knew the three new recruits referred to Mav as an ‘unbelievable fighter pilot’ and asked Rooster if they could meet him one of these days. 

He was pretty sure McAllister didn’t think he’d be the first one to do that. He just stared and he stared hard at Pete who looked just a tidbit uncomfortable, “Rooster.” he tries again, “What is he doing?”

“He’s starstruck,Mav.”

“By who?”

“You!”

Pete blinked, “Me? What? No, come on, kid.” he gently touches McAllister’s shoulder, earning a gasp from the younger pilot whose eyes only got bigger, “ I’m no one, you don’t have to act like that,you hear? McAllister,hey.”

But poor McAllister just looked so shocked and ready to cry that Pete felt almost too bad to continue talking to him. He sent his nephew a worried look, one that Rooster only shrugged his shoulders and smirked at, “Oh…my God…” it was the first thing McAllister said after minutes, “...Cpt.Mitchell– Sir! I–” he quickly salutes him, “I-It’s an honor! I-I…you–we!” He salutes Pete again, out of nervousness and it only makes the older pilot offer him a confused smile.

“Rooster…?” his uncle calls, through gritted teeth but Rooster is too amused to do anything else right now.

“Oh my God, the guys will never believe me.” McAllister says, elated, “I can’t believe I’m standing face to face with you! They’ll be so jealous!”

“Rooster…!”

“I have so many questions,Cpt.Mitchell! I have,” he holds up a finger, patting his uniform, “Hold on,I keep some notes with me– wait, can I ask you about them over lunch?”

Pete was ready to say no, but Rooster cut him off “Of course,McAllister.” his uncle just gave Rooster a confused look, “He won’t mind,right Pete?” there’s no response but a heaved out sigh from Pete who immediately regrets it because the younger recruit is just so excited.

He shakes Pete’s hand again, letting them know that the other guys would ‘go crazy’ when they find out about it. Both Bradley and Maverick watch as McAllister leaves them alone, saluting them one more time, before almost skipping away from them. Pete just makes a face, “That was something.”

“Sure was.”

“And you sound too happy about it.”

“Sure am.” Rooster chuckles, holding up the gift bag on his index finger, “Let me just put this in my office so I can deliver these reports.” and check on his phone but he didn’t want to appear desperate because of Beatrice.

As he walks back to his office, something flutters down his shirt onto the floor, making Maverick blink and tilt his head at it before crouching to pick it up. It was a bright colored folded paper and when he opened it he couldn’t help the smile on his face. Okay, that was pretty cute, he thinks looking down at the obvious pun and the tiny versions of himself and Beatrice drawn on it.

Pete looks back up to where his nephew’s office is, only to sigh softly because…well, memories come back and sometimes you feel a huge amount of sorrow. Because Carole used to do this with Goose, many times he’d find folded pieces of paper - mainly notebooks pages ripped quickly - whenever Goose was seated and/or staying.

He ‘huh’s quietly, folding the little piece of paper closed again just in time for Rooster to return, “Hey,” he holds it up between his index and middle finger, “You dropped this.”

The look of realization on his face only makes Mav grin, speeding his steps towards his uncle to shove it inside his pocket as if it was the most precious thing he had ever held in his hands, “Thanks I uh, must’ve let it slip.” he muttered, clearing his throat with a soft flush to his cheeks.

“Hmhm,of course.”

“Did you look at it?”

“Me? Who do you think I am,Rooster?” his nephew just stared at him with the subtle squint of his eyes, “I did yeah.”

“I don’t know why I bother asking.” but he’s smiling, there was no anger in his voice. He wasn’t ashamed of Beatrice nor about the love he had for her…he just liked messing with his uncle a little bit, “So, uh, next week Nikki is going to stay with you.”

“Oh yes,” Pete grins, “I know.”

Rooster rolls his eyes, “Well, please don’t teach my daughter weird shit, okay? That’s my job when she gets older.” which will take a long time, she’s not even one year old yet! 

“No promises.” Mav laughs, clapping his shoulder.

-

By the time lunch time arrived, and so did the three over enthusiastic recruits, Rooster excused himself from the table - leaving his uncle wide eyed and horrified - to talk to Bea. It wasn’t an excuse considering he did want to talk to her every day.

But it was pretty fun seeing Mav looking so worried.

Rooster pressed her contact and waited, checking his nails and patting his shirt of any crumbs as the phone rang, twice, three times and he was about to get worried if Beatrice’s laughing voice didn’t come from the other end “Hi,Roos!”

Oh just her voice was enough to make him melt, “Hi,gorgeous.” he smirks, “How’s your day going? Having fun with the girls?”

He could hear laughter and the sound of cutlery in the background, followed by a modern song he couldn’t identify, “Yes! We are at the mall right now.”  she giggles, “Nikki is enjoying some carrot purée and I’m having sushi with the girls! It’s been really good. How are you though-” there’s the subtle sound of Shells’ voice teasing Bea, asking if she wanted some alone time but the brunette just scoffed on the phone, “Ignore that if you heard,Shells is trying to be funny.”

“I am funny!”

“Sometimes you are Shells,” Evelyn’s voice adds up “Tell Rooster hi,Bea.”

“I will, Ev and Shells said hi.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, leaning his back against the wall because holy shit she was so sweet, “I know gorgeous,I heard them.” he smiles, folding his arm over his chest and under his opposite limb, keeping his eyes around just to pass the time, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Oh,yes! Yes I did and I got even more stuff- oh Roos,baby stuff is so cute and Nikki will look so precious! I even got her new shoes!”

“Did you now?”

“Yes, they look like tiny combat boots but like…made of cloth.”

Rooster smiles more, keeping his eyes closed to hear her voice, anyone around him would be aware of the fully enamored look on his face, “Of course,gorgeous.” he sighs dreamily, “...I miss you.” and it comes out quiet, his eyes still closed as he whispers, “I miss you a lot today.”

Beatrice is quiet for a few seconds, only to laugh softly on the phone “I miss you too.” Shells’ obvious fake vomiting could be heard as well, followed by an ‘ow!’ because Evelyn undoubtedly slapped her  “I miss you so much, but…I know you are safe and okay and I’ll see you again later.”

“Baby…” he chuckles, “You are too cute.”

“Did I make you blush?”

He snorts, looking down at his shoes, “A little.”

“Good!”

Oh my God he couldn’t handle her. He just…he was in such a peaceful state in his life, he’s so happy, he’s so fulfilled and so eager to have this life with Beatrice and Nicole. Some of the older officers made fun of him when he announced his engagement then wedding then Nicole’s birth, saying it was too soon too fast and he wouldn’t even see much in his early years.

But what the hell, he was happy with this, he couldn’t ask for something better. Maybe it was…the hole inside of him that longed for a full family, longed for days spent together on a beach, seeing their daughter’s milestones together with a woman who loved him so unashamedly and so purely…he couldn’t really complain. He had nothing to complain about.

His job was dangerous and stressful and even if he loved it he couldn’t deny he got thoughts every now and again. Worrisome thoughts, thoughts that involved him and his father, thoughts that dared to think about the what ifs of his profession…and how much these what ifs weighed on him.

Maybe that’s also why he was so…open about his love for Beatrice and Nicole. He had to live day by day to his fullest, that’s all he had to do. “Roos.” her soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, blinking his eyes open “You got quiet, everything okay?”

“Everything is just great,gorgeous. Just great…still thinking about you, about Nikki…about us and the many things we’ll do together when I get home later.” he lowers his voice when he says that, chuckling through the phone at her surprised inhale followed by her quiet giggle.

“You,” she whispers back, “Are a menace.”

“I am, especially to my wife.”

Beatrice laughs again, it’s like music, before she continues speaking “Your wife appreciates it. She really does…oh! I also got something for you!”

“Something? Baby you already gifted me today…”

“I know but I saw it and thought of you!” she replies sweetly, “Plus, I think your home office needs…something more but I won’t tell you anything else besides that!”

He smiles with the phone still glued to his ear, looking back to where Mav was just to see his uncle trying to desperately find him in the crowd…so Rooster just backed away even more to hide himself from his view, “Oh,you are not telling me anything else.”

“Nope!”

“Can I guess?”

There’s a short timed pause, “...no.Because you’ll manage to answer out of me and I don’t want that!”

“...baby I love you so much,did I told you that?” he says sweetly, “Because you are the sweetest woman I’ve ever met and my God I’m going to–” he lowers his voice even more “Kiss you so much when I get back.”

“Good,I’d hope so.”

It takes one fleeting glance down at his watch to earn a sigh out of him, “Gorgeous,I need to go back.” He sounds so disappointed it makes her giggle a bit, “Have fun with the girls,okay? I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“I love you too,Roos! See you later!”

He whispers ‘bye’ to her with so much softness he almost felt like he was floating, finishing the call only to fall back against the wall with a dreamy smile on his face. “Fuck,I love her so much.” He pushes himself away from the wall so he could walk back to where Maverick was with the three young officers, his uncle still looking distraught and annoyed at the same time when he meets his eyes.

“Had fun?” he asks once he’s close to the table, earning an amused glare from Pete, who just rolled his eyes because the three recruits were still talking amongst themselves, about Maverick specially.

“Yes, yes, joke all you want.” Pete says, “How’s Bea?”

“Good,she’s out with the girls and she’s having a lot of fun.” he smirks sweetly, “That girl got me good,Mav.” and he didn’t even care if the three other guys were within earshot, hell he didn’t care at all.

“She sure did, Rooster.” Mav adds, “And so did Nicole.”

Rooster’s cheek dimples when he gives his uncle a small grin, sliding his phone in his pocket before he sits back down.

-

Beatrice sighs dreamily while looking at their wedding picture - her background that she couldn’t really change even if she tried to - giggling like a little girl with her longtime crush as her friends watch amusedly, “Well,” Evelyn begins, sipping her lemonade, “Love sure does look good on you.”

The brunette just offers her friend a knowing look, “I can say the same about you.” she smiles, “You and Jake are adorable together.”

Evelyn’s smile widened subtly, but Bea knew she appreciated it a lot. Jake was a good guy and he really liked her, he had his issues - obviously - but he was really in love with her…and he was going to marry her…and they were expecting their first child together, a child that already had a very nice wardrobe. “Ahem.” Shells arches her brows, pointing at herself, “What about me?”

“You are crazy about Bob, Shells and you make fun of me because of how I act around Roos…when you are the same way.”

Shells smiled knowingly, “True,I do love my sugarpuff.”

Beatrice sighs softly, leaning back into her seat while keeping her eyes on a sleeping Nicole, “...I’m so happy.” she whispers, ‘I…I feel like…I don’t know, it’s–when we dated it was amazing, then we got married and now we have a child. And he keeps making me feel like I’m over the moon every single time.” she looks down at her wedding ring, rubbing the golden band with her thumb, “And we have a house and we have a healthy relationship and…and there’s nothing hidden in there. It’s so crazy…sixteen years old Bea would never believe it.”

If she could talk to her younger self she was sure she’d be stared at like she was crazy, “Yeah, well, you two are just two peas in a pod,” Shells smirks, flicking her eyes towards Nicole as she sips her juice, “So…” 

“So?”

“Are you and Rooster planning for another one?”

“Planning for– wait, you mean another baby?!” Beatrice’s eyes widened at Shells’ nod, “I…no? Shells,Nikki is not even one year old yet. She doesn’t even have teeth.” just imagining getting pregnant again so quickly was crazy. There was no way they’d do that, they’d have to really think about it and then figure out if it was viable or not.

Sure, they had enough rooms for more kids - and maybe she’d like more - but there was only so much that could be done…during the time they had. Especially Rooster. “We aren’t thinking about it yet, no.”

“Jesus,Shells, let me have my own baby first.” Evelyn muttered, “You got baby fever of some sort?”

“I’m an only child,I wanna be an auntie!”

Beatrice huffed a laugh, mentally hating how the thought of more children ingrained itself in her brain…no. No she shouldn’t think about that when Nikki was so young, and especially because they couldn’t have more children yet, they talked about having one not more than that. 

She looks down at the sleeping baby by her side, Nicole’s hair mussed up because of the seat and one of her favorite toys close to her side - obviously it was the chicken Jake gave her - and Beatrice just thought that she could talk to Rooster about it, at least to have it out of the way.

Yeah, just to have it out of the way.

[watarfallar]

I am throwing these in your faces

Grian: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.

Bdubs: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

Bdubs: Tell me, what you are mad at? Joel: I paid twenty dollars for bottomless drinks. Gem, in the background: They got to the bottom. Joel: What is that? The bottom of the damn glass!

Jimmy: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box. Martyn: Did Tango say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'? Jimmy: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

Gem: *raises eyebrows* Scar: Put those back down!

Jimmy: I don’t know, this plan seems complicated. Grian: You once said that about an orange. Jimmy: They don’t make sense. Apples, you eat their clothes but oranges you don’t.

Impulse: She's the girl of my dreams! Cleo: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams. Impulse: I have a lot of dreams.

Mumbo: If you had to choose between Ren and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose? Pearl: That depends, how much money are we talking about? Ren: Pearl! Mumbo: 63 cents. Pearl: …I’ll take the money. Ren: PEARL!!!

Joel: You made enough pasta that you could take it to lunch tomorrow. Put it in a container. Lizzie: Shovel the pasta into your face. Do it. Put it in your face. The future is meaningless but the pasta is now.

Martyn: You’re alive. Grian: No need to sound so disappointed.

Cleo: I’m doing what I can to jog your memory. Mumbo: It’s jogging, I guess. Its tiddies are jiggling a little. Cleo: Nice.

Ren: Man, I’m gonna get fat if you keep feeding me all these chips and junk! BigB:I’M NOT! I was eating them and you took them. Ren: You said I should try some! BigB: I said they were good. Ren: That’s not how I heard it.

Impulse: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Bdubs: You’re too young to have enemies. Impulse: You don’t even know.

Cleo: Martyn, are you okay?! Martyn: I told you to stop asking stupid questions!

Etho: What do rainbows mean to you? Gem: Gay rights. Ren: There's money. Skizz: The sign of God's promise to never destroy the whole Earth with a flood. Impulse: It is an optical phenomenon that separates sunlight into its continuous spectrum when the sun shines on raindrops.

Scott: Can I borrow five dollars? Etho: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back? Scott: Of course. Scott: Not directly, but with my love and affection. Etho: So that’s a no.

Scar: I have a philosophy in life; if the seat is open, the job is open. That’s how I came to briefly drive a Formula 1 car.

Cleo, passing their phone to Bdubs: I'm passing the phone to someone, who if I had to choose between hanging out with them, and having my organs removed one by one, I’d choose the organs. Bdubs, passing the phone back to Cleo: I'm passing the phone to my best friend!

Cleo: I want to kiss you. Bdubs, not paying attention: What? Cleo: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Scott: Bye Cleo! Bye Joel! Bye Mumbo! Bye Gem! Bye Cleo! Grian: You said ‘bye Cleo’ twice. Scott: I like Cleo.

Martyn: *closes a cabinet* *a crash is heard behind the cabinet door* Joel: What was that? Martyn: The sound of someone else's problem.

Joel: I’m not a doctor I’m a medic. Bdubs: What’s the difference then? Joel: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die. Ren: Note to self; never get shot.

Gem: We need a diversion. I say Cleo gets naked. Etho: No. Gem: I could get naked. The squad: NO!!!

Ren: I’m gonna kill you. Skizz: Get in line!

[according2thelore]

happy wincest wednesday to you both! my question of the week for both of you is: when and how did you start shipping wincest? do you remember a specific moment where you went "oh my god, they're actually fucking*???"

*or a suitable equivalent

(@incesthemes)

hi, ciel! happy wincest wednesday! :)

charlotte: when lizzy planted the seed in my head while watching the early seasons for the first time 🙂‍↕️ we would call out all the weird shit they did to our friends’ chagrin

lizzy: honestly idk...i was tangentially aware of it when i watched the show the first time back in 2013/14 and tried my hand at writing some fanfic, so i must've started shipping it at some point in the show that i don't remember, but it wasn't until i rewatched the show w charlotte and our friends that i remembered!! OH YEAH!! these brothers are WEIRD. and could actually point to larger themes/textual evidence, lol. i was primed for it, so s1e2 when sam looked at dean like he wanted to eat him alive i was back on track. 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

thank you for this ask! :)

-charlotte + lizzy

[nightraiderwrites]

The Happier Ending.

False enters home a little lost. Not physically- she has an excellent sense of direction- but emotionally. She should tie up all her loose ends, right?

The house is quiet when she walks in. Recipe books line the shelves, dirty dishes sit in the sink. A wooden pencil grip sits on the coffee table in their living room. Fading candles light the dying Christmas tree in the corner of their living room.

Pix, Pearl and Tango are asleep in their rooms. The living room is filled only with her breathing.

Pearl’s statues cast flickering shadows in the gasping light of candles. False watches as they dance across the walls, claiming the light as they prance. They almost look alive, as if trying to grasp life like it’s theirs.

Her comm sits in her inventory. The copper casing is beaten, and almost broken. Gears are soldered along the edge, and her name is carved in shaky handwriting. She is afraid to take it out.

False does it anyway.

“Hey, Tango,” she starts, hitting the record button. “Um, I know you're going to be mad, and I'm sorry. I can't do anything else, y'know?” She sucks in a breath. What is she doing? “God. God. What am I supposed to say?”  I asked him to kill me first, before you. To- hang on.”

She hears footsteps coming up the stairs. “Tango?” she asks. “ Why're you up?” He freezes in place, and fumbles his communicator out. There’s a moment of pause as he types in the dark. “...Why are you up?” reads out the text to speech voice.

False laughs quietly. “Because I can be,” she replies. He raises an eyebrow. In the dark, the candles cast an ominous shadow over face, leaving his eyes to glow red in the dark. “Okay, okay,” she says. “I was going out to the Temple. I needed to take a moment to pray to the Light for guidance.”

“You're welcome to join me.” Tango looks down, typing on his comm. “I'm going to stay inside. I'll make you some more handwriting sheets,” says the robotic voice. “Oh!” False replies. “Thank you.”

He types again, and presses enter. “Good night, Falsie.” She smiles at him. “Good night, Tango.”

Tango walks away, climbing back down the stairs.

False sniffles, and turns back to her comm.

“Okay, you're gone. Yeah, um. I just want to keep you safe.” She exhales. “I can't do anything else. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don't-” Her hand is shaking. Her chest hurts. “Jeez, this is hard. This is difficult. I know this is selfish of me.” This is the most selfish thing she’s done.

“Please forgive me. Please don't hate me. I- ack. I wish I had more time. Um, keep yourself safe. Stay happy. I-” Her voice cracks, before her last word. “Bye.”

She hits stop. Breathes. Tries not to cry. False takes a handwriting sheet and flips it over, grasping a pencil shakily. Fr ToGgo, she writes, then crosses it out. Four TongO, she spells. Her scrawl is messy and all over the page. False closes her eyes, and remembers Gem’s hand correcting hers, Lizzie’s laugh, Pix’s kind words on the page, Pearl’s coffee and Tango’s smile.

She tries again. Fore toGnO. Somehow, she thinks it's wrong, but no one is here to correct her.

~

False’s boots crunch in the snow, [The Sun] warm in her grasp. She’s left her other swords at home, because [The Cog] no longer fits in her hand, [The Compass] no longer points North and [The Vengeance] has been put aside for something far more important.

She enters the Temple of Light, and bathes in the warmth. The mural seems a little dull, and the altar a little colder. Two candles sit on it, almost ready to be replaced.

False bows to the altar, and kneels. “Good evening, your majesty,” says the Soldier of the Sun. “Are you well?” The altar, of course, does not reply. But the candles seem to flicker in response, so False smiles, a little.

“Did I do the right thing?” she asks the candles. “Should I have asked?” No response. The candles keep swaying in the evening breeze. “Forgive me,” the Soldier says. “Forgive me. I know no other way to keep moving forward.”

She lays [The Sun] in front of her, parallel to the stairs, and presses her forehead to the floor. “Forgive me,” she says again. “Have mercy on my soul.” 

The Soldier prays at the Temple for as long as she can.

Footsteps crunch in the snow behind her. The Soldier recognises the steady gait of her companion. She rises from her position, and turns to smile at him.

“Tango?” False says. He looks dazed, eyes out of focus. His mouth opens, and closes. She smiles softly at him. “You should go back to the house.” Tango’s head shakes violently. He does not move from out of the doorway.

“You’re welcome to pray with me, if you wish,” False says. Outside, the snow falls harder and harder. Wind howls, shaking the foundation of the Temple. “Tango?” He blinks, and steps shakily forward, trailing snow behind him.

Something is wrong. She can feel it. His movements are stiff, his steps stilted. The Soldier’s hand creeps towards [The Sun], lightly grasping the hilt. He keeps moving towards her. The Shield walks across the room, his movements unnatural and jerky.

Her hand is on her sword. She stands, slowly. His hands are empty. He walks until they are face to face.

The Soldier looks into The Shield’s eyes. They are blank, looking past her, into her past, maybe. His hand reaches up and covers hers.

“Tango?” False says. Her heart thunders in her ears, pulse going wild. He breathes shakily.

With speed and strength that False didn’t know Tango possessed, he rips [The Sun] from her grasp. She stumbles backwards onto the stairs as he points it at her chest. He walks forward, applying more and more pressure as she scrambles up the stairs.

“Tango-” she gasps out. She automatically goes for another sword, hoping to grasp [The Cog] or [The Compass], but her hands ghost over empty space. Right. They’re waiting at home.

The Shield that lied pushes [The Sun] into The Soldier’s sternum. Her hands flail to grip the blade, to try and stop it, but it only cuts her palms. It goes all the way in, chipping into the stairs behind her.

Blood pours from her mouth, trickling warmly down her chin and spilling from her hands. “Ha,” she says weakly. “Didn’t think it’d be you.” His eyes clear, and he releases the hilt. He kneels beside her, trying to frantically stop the bleeding.

She breathes hard, needles of pain stabbing into her lungs. False’s breathing becomes labored, oxygen struggling its way in and out of her lungs. Red stains the golden blade. “It was… foolish… of me to… trust…” she gasps out, leaning forward.

Her hands reach out, to the man with a look of horror on his face. His hands meet hers, instantly sharing their redness. Silent sobbing shakes his shoulders, sending earthquakes into False’s dying body. Tango’s mouth moves noiselessly, begging useless cries for help from the universe.

Blood splatters as she coughs. No longer able to support herself, she falls forward. False does not expect to be caught, but his arms are the protection between her and the cold stone floor.

Tears trickle from his cheeks as False looks up from his arms. She reaches a hand, still bleeding to wipe them away. Red stains his cheeks where her fingers brush skin.

False searches his face for some malice, some ill-will with slowly fading vision. The only things she finds are regret, sorrow and horror.

“It,” she starts, struggling for breath. “Ha, it wasn’t your fault, was it?” He shakes his head. His words are still stuck in his throat. “You were just… a weapon.” False breathes out, hand resting on the blade in her chest. “Like me.”

Tango mouths no, over and over. No words escape his lips. “It’s alright,” she gasps out. It’s warm, in his arms. It reminds her of better times, curled up on the couch together. “You could… never hurt me.”

His grip tightens on her hand. The edges of her lips curl up in a weak smile. “Maybe…” False starts. “In another life… another time…” Her breath slows down. It’s getting harder to breathe.

Tango’s hair is sharpening and blurring intermittently. She can see the bad dye job washing out, and the tears filling his eyes.

“I would… have… liked to see… you go home…” Someone stands over them, smiling at her. Her green eyes sparkle unnaturally. A man, with a rugged brown beard, holds a shield. He stands on her right. “Tango,” False whispers. Tears prick her eyes. It really hurts to breathe. “Tango, I’m scared.”

He rocks back and forth, in what is probably meant to be a soothing action. It only makes the sword in her chest swing. A chill pools in her chest. “Tango,” False manages. “It’s so cold. I…” There’s no feeling in her legs. Cold crawls up her body.

She smiles tiredly, soothingly, lovingly, one last time. “I’ll see you again, Tango…”

The Soldier of the Sun squeezes once, twice. Her light goes out before she can squeeze again.

.

.

.

.

.

Well, wasn’t that a twist?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[Falsesymmetry was slain by Tango using [The Sun]]

-

Haha, isn't that fun?

(Based off a game of mafia I played with my friends)

[thatonelightyear]

HI, YOU ARE 'BUILT' THEORY PERSON, YES? SIT. HAVE TEA. i HAVE MANY QUESTION...

Mkay but no seriously, some genuinely curious questions:

-When built, are the vehicles small/-er versions of themselves that grow into adults, or are they grown adults from the getgo?

-Are built vehicles' ages based off of the date they were manufactured? (I ask this in tandem with the above because I'm curious about how they would treat such things as childhood, ageing, and coming *of* age)

-Are there any parts of the built machines that are organic/semi-organic as to do stuff (ie eating/drinking)?

-What causes a vehicle to end up being built? Is it relative to two parents deciding "hey let's get a kid" and then their respective company creating one, or is it a more company, or god forbid government controlled "we make X amount of vehicles and they just go to homes and go out in the world".

-If they are already adults from the date of manufacture, do they just...instantly move into a garage somewhere? What constitutes as family to them, if they have any? Model similarities, company relations? Found family exclusively?

This list could probably be WAY bigger but I don't want to totally overload you any more lol. This is just a really interesting concept and perspective I've almost never dabbled in and I'm genuinely curious how these things might work through the built theory's lens.

I appreciate you reading this text wall btw :')

OMG ive never had such a long ask before aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa tysm :DDDD ahem now down to business

When built, are the vehicles small/-er versions of themselves that grow into adults, or are they grown adults from the getgo?

Ans: I personally headcanon that both versions would exist - that there are smaller versions that grow into adult frames, and that there are adult cars that roll straight off the production line (i hc that lightning is one of these cars, just manufactured then put on the track) but by and large cars manufactured at adult age tend to be a lot fewer than having children?? baby?? cars that grow up

Are built vehicles' ages based off of the date they were manufactured?

Yes I suppose so - but it really depends because from what I've seen in the Carsverse age seems to be a more fluid matter that doesn't nearly have as much impact on their lives? Case in point Lizzie who is literally a hundred years old and still kicking. Coming of age, ageing and childhood really depends from a car to car basis, maybe the families they were raised in, their personal preferences etc - tho obviously those cars who are small would *have* a childhood I'm more inclined to believe that adult cars - from the earlier point - don't nearly get this privillege

Are there any parts of the built machines that are organic/semi-organic as to do stuff

Nope. I believe in this world everything is just like the cars and vehicles in our world, and therefore the stuff they consume would probably depend on what kind of vehicle they are and therefore what fuel they will need. The 'food' is all fuel that has a changed appearance. Race cars don't normally ingest these foods because, well, their prime function is to race and the foods, however much they may be fuel-based, will never be the premium stuff needed to run a high performance engine smoothly

What causes a vehicle to end up being built? Is it relative to two parents deciding "hey let's get a kid" and then their respective company creating one, or is it a more company, or god forbid government controlled "we make X amount of vehicles and they just go to homes and go out in the world".

In Cars 1 Mack has a line that says 'thank the manufacturer you're alive' when he finds Lightning in RS, and so based off this- the Cars world has manufacturers and factories that manufacture the sentient cars, the nitty gritty details aren't known to the general population which is why they never really question it, it's just that they have manufacturers, and the sentient cars roll off the production line and thats that. Of course couples can opt to adopt one of these cars from any manufacturer (this would probably explain the differences in make and model in Carsverse families better imo)

If they are already adults from the date of manufacture, do they just...instantly move into a garage somewhere? What constitutes as family to them, if they have any? Model similarities, company relations? Found family exclusively?

Yep. I'd think that the companies settle them with a place somewhere and then good luck to you way out there!! They'll have no family, sad to say, and the first few years will get preetty lonely. Found family only ftw (might explain Lightning's whole... personality from this headcanon above lol)

Wow thats done :D was fun answering YIPEE feel free to send more anytime!!! (hopefully all my ramblings made sense. uh.) also would like to credit @whipplefilter and @the-kings-tail-fin since its from their stories that I literally got the basis of all this and like yeah :)

[stereopticons]

sevenish sentence sunday

Thanks for the tags, @rmd-writes and @rosedavid

“She’s been here for five minutes and she’s already inviting people over?!”

“Oh my god, David,” Alexis snaps, coming down the stairs that lead to his bedroom. “It’s not people, it’s just Stevie.”

“That’s rude,” David shoots back.

“No, she’s right,” Stevie calls with her mouth full.

“What the fuck,” he mutters. “What are you even doing here, Alexis? Is that my sweater?”

Alexis tugs the sleeves of his McQueen down over her hands in a way that it absolutely wasn’t meant for. David grits his teeth.

“Well, I, like, just got back from the shoot and I wanted to see my big brother?”

David narrows his eyes at her. “Yeah, I’m not buying that.” They’ve never been the kind of siblings who do that sort of thing. When Stavros broke up with Alexis the last time just over a year ago, it had taken six months for her to tell David she was actually living in the same city as him, much less that she’d enrolled in classes to get her PR certificate.

It doesn’t take long for her to crack. “Ugh, okay, fine, David,” she says. “Mutt and I broke up and I just didn’t want to go back to my apartment and, like, stare at all those stupid dead plants he gave me like some sort of sad, pathetic loser.”

“He gave you dead plants?” David asks.

“Well, no,” Alexis replies. “They were alive when he gave them to me.”

Tagging @housewifebuck @jettestar @hippolotamus @apothecarose @lizzie-bennetdarcy @chelle-68