#most of them surrounding la trip

[tirednotflirting]

very strange mix of many different anxieties going into this week. have a headache and stomachache. this is fine.

[jnkgrnde]

— can you stand the rain?, clarisse la rue, pjo

FREE PALESTINE: LINKS TO HELP

summary — in which, you and clarisse get into an argument that causes you to kiss in the rain.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

content includes — arguing, kissing in the rain, best friends to lovers, jealous!clarisse

authors note — TELL ME BABY CAN YEWWWW STAND THE RAINNNNNN 🗣️🎤 this is def butt but this has been in my drafts for way too long so!

it was a beautiful, sunny day in long island. the smell of strawberries from the fields established themselves as today’s scent for the camp, the lake was cool enough for a dip.

it was a perfect day.

and it was a perfect day for you and clarisse to hang out with each other. you wanted to convince her to take a day off from training and take a swim in the lake to cool off for the day, before eventually doing something stupid later.

you knew clarisse was up because she was always up before you, so you decided to knock on the ares cabin door first to find her. her younger brother told you she wasn’t there and that you could find her at the sparring field. you thanked him with a smile before leaving to find her. lo and behold, there was clarisse la rue in her armor with her electric spear, training with a dummy.

you didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but the training dummy looked about out of comission. “d’you wake up on the wrong side of bed or did you add him to your hate list?” she halted her movements, dust flying beneath her shoes.

“did you need something, sweet thing?” and there she went with the nicknames. she knew you loved them, and she also knew you’d get tripped up by them. “so i was thinking we’d take a dip in the lake today.” and you knew what she was gonna say,

“y/n, you know i have to train today—“ “but that’s what you do everyday, clar! please? just for today?” you begged. you gave her your infamous puppy eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t turn away from. she groaned dramatically. “… you got me. i’ll meet you by the canoes in ten.” you grinned with excitement. “thank you thank you!” you kissed her cheek before running off.

she stood frozen for a second before a smile started spreading across her face. her cheek felt tingly in the spot you kissed her in.

you wore a white overshirt with a blue swimsuit underneath, paired with jean shorts. you carried a bag, sunglasses in your hair. you walked over to the lake, a smile on your face knowing you could be in one of the places you loved most.

you saw clarisse standing near the canoes watching the water. she had a towel laid out and was just taking her shoes off when you covered her eyes. “boo.” clarisse feigned annoyance, but still let a smile grace her lips.

you set down your bag on the sand, taking your shirt and shorts off. “not gonna join me, clar?” “nah. gotta keep watch, y’know, for butterflies and stuff.” you rolled your eyes with a smile before walking into the water, eventually going deep enough to wear you can float. you swam out enough for the sun to beam down on you, and just let yourself feel the water.

clarisse watched you. she loved watching you anytime, but she especially loved when you were in your environment. she took note of the smile on your face and how you occasionally paddled your hands to make sure you kept yourself afloat, although with your powers and everything, it wasn’t hard.

clarisse admired her surroundings before her eyes caught a boy staring at you — carter from hephaestus cabin. he was deeply tanned with a good build and curly hair, and had scars all over his hands and face from working on weapons for the camp.

carter watched with a small smile. he held a gold necklace in his hands, twisting them around. it had a sea turtle pendant, and it shined in the sunlight.

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. she didn’t like what she was feeling — you were just friends, right? it’s just her being protective over you. she didn’t want you to get hurt or anything. she was sure that’s what it was.

it was a while before you decided to get out of the water. you didn’t realize how long you’d been there before noticing that it was starting to get a little cooler. you swam, then walked back to shore, but not before being stopped by carter.

to you, carter was a sweet, caring boy, just not for you specifically, because you had your sights set on someone else. he was starting to show he liked you, and got bolder as time went on. “hey, y/n. i made you something.” he told you nervously but still with a smile. he held out the necklace to you, the sea turtle shining in the light.

you let out a genuine smile before thanking him, not noticing the burning daggers being glared into the back of his head. he offered to put it on for you, so you turned and he slowly locked the chain together.

“thank you, carter.” you smiled before walking over to clarisse. you found her not so happy, actually stuffing things into your bags. “hey, clar, what’s wrong?” you reached out to touch her arm, and she pulled away like you were a hot pan burning her.

you furrowed your eyebrows in hurt and confusion. her face was scrunched up and she looked at you like you disgusted her. she shoved your bag to your chest before storming off back to the main campgrounds.

“clarisse!” you slung your bag on your shoulder and ran to try and catch to her, but she was already gone. your heart squeezed in your chest and you frowned before continuing to walk to your cabin.

a million thoughts swirled around in your head — why was she acting like this? you were just friends, right? you knew she was protective of you, yes, but not to this extent. you opened the doors to the poseidon cabin, where it was empty. you assumed percy was probably out with annabeth on a date, probably.

clarisse didn’t know why she felt this way; she hated it. she hated the way she acted when you touched her, or how she felt giddy and mushy inside whenever you look at her with your pretty eyes. she hated feeling the way she did around you, because she usually feels guilt, anger, or needing to please her father. that’s how she thinks she’s supposed to feel, how she’s wired to feel.

you make her actually feel like a good person, and she knew she impacted you with the way she acted that day.

it was later at night at the dining pavilion. torches were lit, dryads were flying around with silver platters with food, and campers from different cabins were chatting and laughing with eachother. the energy was high, seeing as there was a planned campfire tonight, with the apollo cabin leading the sing along.

you and percy sat at the poseidon table. his plate was full, and he had blue soda on the side. you gave him a small smile. “have you not eaten since breakfast?” you asked. “nah. annabeth wanted to go on a hike and i forgot to eat after.” you flicked his forehead. “why didn’t you tell me? i have a secret stash in the cabin!” you whisper-yelled. “i’m sorry!” he whined. you both laughed as the conversation flowed.

clarisse stole many glances from the poseidon table, specifically from you. despite what happened earlier in the day, you still smiled. her chest squeezed at the sound of your laughter. she poked her tongue against her lips before looking down at her plate.

it was after dinner where you and clarisse actually saw each other. she was sitting with the ares cabin, and you were sitting with percy and a couple other mutual friends. every time you looked up from the fire, there was clarisse who was staring at you no matter what. you quickly looked away every time you made eye contact.

the empty seat next to you was soon filled, but not by who you actually wanted it to be. carter sat next to, playing with his hoodie strings and smiling at you. “d’you need something, carter?” you asked. you didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you weren’t as enthusiastic as you were earlier.

“well, i wanted to know if you were free later this week? i-i had something planned and-“ “no, she’s not free.” and standing in front of you was the woman of the hour.

you snapped your eyes up at the familiar voice. she held a glare directed at carter. before anybody could say anything, chiron announced that the campfire had to end early, seeing there was a storm starting to move in. “so, um, are you coming?” carter persisted. “i’ll get back to you on that, carter.” you gave a small smile before getting up. you shot clarisse a look before walking back with percy to the poseidon cabin.

the night was dark, and thunder started rolling in. the camp turned in for the night, all except for one. there was a tapping on your window, waking you up from your sleep. you groaned, already starting to yell at whoever it was before you recognized clarisse.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what are you doing here?” she held her hand out without a word. you hesitated, looking back at percy to see him fast asleep. you looked back at clarisse, and she looked desperate. you slipped on your shoes before taking her hand and letting her guide you out the window.

she walked with you, out to the woods and seemingly to your secret spot, the spot that was reserved for you and clarisse only. “clarisse, why are we out here?” you asked her once you finally stopped.

your emotions were already starting to heighten, the rain slowly following. she stared at you for a second. “i’m sorry.” she apologized. “why? you left me with no explanation like i was some animal on the street and ignored me. why?”

she breathed out a heavy breath. “him.” she whispered. “what?” “because of carter!” she snapped. you were confused, “what does this have to do with him?” clarisse looked at you like she begged you to understand, like you were supposed to know why.

“because he likes you,” she put out simply, “and i don’t want him to.” you blinked while taking in her words. she was closer to you than before now, her breath on your face. she soaked you in, watching the rainwater run down your face. she came to the realization.

“i like you,” she barely spoke. “i like you, and i don’t want him to like you.” you stood in shock. clarisse liked you. she liked you back, and you had no clue. you cupped her jaw and pulled her down to your lips. it was passionate, like she would die without feeling you again. you pulled away, “so, you stormed off because you liked me?” clarisse rolled her eyes with a smile. “well, when you put it like that.”

you pulled her back with a laugh and the rain getting lighter throughout the kiss, eventually allowing the stars to shine.

[holdmytesseract]

Okay so I saw your post asking for an idea with Daryl in season one of his show, so here goes:

Reader is also American, who has been with the nuns for a while. Five years, maybe. She went looking for something (you can decide what!) and ended up stranded in France. Naturally, she picked up French and sort of became a translator for Daryl. One day, maybe when they’re at the school with all the kids and the sick teacher, the kids can see the way Daryl looks at reader, and vice versa, and they’re continuously teasing them about it. Daryl obviously doesn’t understand what they’re saying, but he figures it out by the way reader acts all shy and bashful and suddenly can’t look him in the eye when the kids are around. The ending is totally up to you!

Idk this is a silly idea. You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, ofc. I love and appreciate you regardless 💜

He loves me - he loves me not... 🌼

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When a strange man suddenly stumbles into your life, you didn't think much of it. Until you had to admit to yourself that you had fallen in love with him - and it didn't stay unrecognised...

Warnings: possible Spin-Off S1 spoiler, usual TWD stuff? fluff, some slight drama... idiots in love?

Set in S1 of the Spin-Off series!

Word Count: 4,2k

a/n: Thank you, @dixons-sunshine , for that wonderful request! 🧡 And a HUGE thanks to @fictive-sl0th , for being my translator and for helping me along with this. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"A bunch of bad decisions," was the man's answer to your question.

"How did you end up 'ere?" He threw it immediately back at you. "A bunch of bad decisions, huh? Well... I could say the same." You took a deep breath of the fresh Spring air. "I, uh, travelled to France for my boyfriend. He had a work trip which took him here. Paris, to be exactly. It was meant to be a surprise, but... When I arrived at the hotel he stayed in, I caught him in bed with another woman, so, yeah... Should've stayed at home in LA." He looked at you; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. "'M sorry 'bout that." "Don't be. He was an asshole." You immediately waved him off. "After a few days, I decided to fly back home, but then everything collapsed... The world collapsed. I was forced to stay. That's when I met Isabelle. We both needed help, so she took me with her. That's how I ended up here. Unfortunately, neither me nor the nuns were able to help her sister - but that's a different story." You gave the man a soft smile, which he answered with a nod; once more biting the inside of his bottom lip.

You had shown the stranger - Daryl, around the abbey and were now on your way to the kitchen, in order to get the man Isabelle had so suddenly dragged into your life something to eat. You weren't a nun, but it has been a long time since you had lastly seen other people besides the women who lived here - let alone a man... You felt nervous and awkward, but also a strange kind of happiness and excitement. Perhaps it was normal. Especially in a world like that...

He had followed you in silence then; his eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. However was the silence highly unpleasant - at least for you, so you decided to start another conversation - even though you knew that what you were about to ask him was probably the most stupid way to get him indulged in another chat... "Are your clothes fitting? They alright?" You gazed over at the gruff and visibly marked, yet undeniably handsome fellow American.

You noticed how he began to fumble with the beige suspenders he wore; giving himself a once-over. "Yeah, thank ya. Jus'... Ain't what 'm bein' used to." You could imagine. After all, you saw what he had been wearing when Isabelle had brought him in... Tattered jeans, a washed up black shirt and a more or less damaged and yellowed leather vest with angel wings on it. Oh, and that poncho. You reckoned he went from 'bad boy biker' to 'good boy church-goer' only within a few days. The black slacks, light blue woollen sweater and the suspenders were definitely not his style, and yet it suited him to perfection - that was at least what you thought.

"Sorry about that. It's the only men clothing we got around here. Obviously," you joked; trying to light the mood - and it worked. The man snorted out a small laugh.

That was the first memory you held of Daryl Dixon. You couldn't deny that your eyes had gotten stuck on Daryl that day - and now, a few days, weeks or even months, who knew, later you still hadn't been able to pull them away. Was it love at first sight? You didn't know. All you knew was that the man who had stumbled into your life out of nowhere drew you in like a moth to a flame.

When the abbey fell and only Isabelle, Sylvie, Laurent and you were left, you didn't even think a second about parting ways with Daryl. He certainly was stuck with the four of you now - and vice versa. The mission was clear... Bringing Laurent to the nest; first destination Paris.

Like always proved the way to be more difficult than anticipated; with a lot of stones getting thrown into your path. That was most likely the reason why you ended up imprisoned by a horde of kids and teenagers, who lived inside their old school. Well... 'imprisoned' wasn't the right term anymore after a thorough conversation - and a little white lie. Quite the opposite... You had become guests and even got invited for dinner; no longer being considered a threat. Luckily.

Now you were standing in the former classroom turned into a kitchen to do the dishes. You volunteered for this; wanting to give something in return for the kids' hospitality. To your slight surprise volunteered Daryl as well, what got only smiled at by Isabelle and Sylvie - much to your confusion. You didn't know what was so funny about that... Yet.

"Almost done," you stated with a smile and handed the man beside you one of the last plates needing to be cleaned. The archer took it with a grunt; his hand accidentally brushing yours - and you could've sworn that your stomach did a 360; his touch leaving a sizzle behind on the skin of your hand. It caused you to stop in your movements and lift your head to meet the mysterious man's eyes - blue-greyish pools, in which you got immediately threatened to drown. It took you everything to hold on. All you could see and focus on was him; causing the rational part of your brain to immediately send a distress message to your heart and asking what was going on. Well... Deep down you knew and it wasn't really difficult to figure it out... Falling in love with a man you barely knew. Was it a good idea? Probably not. Could you prevent it from happening? No.

"Madame Y/N, père (father) Daryl!" The voice of a young boy suddenly cut through the air and caused you to fall from cloud nine back down to earth. Blinking, you turned your head - and your attention to the approaching child, whose footsteps could be already heard against the wooden floor. Unbeknownst to you, did it take Daryl a second to get himself together as well; the archer highly confused about what just happened. The foreign feeling coursing through his veins did not fail to scare him a little bit.

"Dans la cuisine! (In the kitchen!)," you called back; leading him to the right destination. The boy appeared in the door frame within a few seconds; a huge smile on his face. "Allez! Nous avons allumé le générateur! (You have to come! We powered up the generator!) " The kid exclaimed happily; a huge smile on his face. "Nous serons avec vous dans une minute. Nous avons presque terminé ici (We'll be with you in a minute. We're almost done here.)," you answered and gave him a smile in return. He nodded, "Bien! (Alright!)" and stormed off again.

You turned back to Daryl; instantly seeing the question marks displayed on his face. He didn't even ask you to translate for him. You just did it. It sort of came naturally to you. By now you literally had become his personal translator - together with Isa. Sylvie was still a little shy around the man and Laurent was improving his English skills.

"He said we have to come. They powered up the generator. Guess it's time to watch some TV," you explained; smiling. "Let's get this done and go." Daryl nodded; the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "A'right."

Once you and Daryl were finished with the task at hand, you made your way through the building and up to the attic; side by side. "Did ya already speak French as you got stranded 'ere?" The archer suddenly spoke up to break the not necessarily unpleasant silence between the both of you. You shook your head. "No, I didn't. I remembered some words I learned back in school. Basic stuff, you know?" "So ya learned to speak French?" You nodded, "Yeah, I did." and shrugged your shoulders. "Had to. I spent now over ten years in France. Had a lot of time to learn the language... Isa was a good teacher, and Laurent the best classmate." The man beside you nodded; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. You noticed from the very beginning that he had the tendency to do that. A habit, possibly?

When you reached the attic, everybody was waiting for you and Daryl already. The kids were antsy and bubbly; full of anticipation and impatiently waiting for the big screen to light up.

Daryl sat down on an empty seat beside a young, blond boy. Your plan was to join him, but Laurent waved you over with a smile; silently asking to sit with him. Of course, you couldn't say no to the boy's wish, and sent your fellow American an apologising gaze, which he acknowledged with a jut of his head; telling you it was okay. So, you sat down beside Laurent with a smile and wrapped an arm around him; halfway hugging him. He meant a lot to you. After all, you knew him since the day he was born. He was family - just like Sylvie and Isabelle.

No minute later, the screen lit up and the 'TV programme' started to play - much to all kids' joy and excitement. The series you were watching was one you were familiar with... 'Mork & Mindy'. It was a series you didn't catch when it first got shown on TV, but your dad introduced you to it a few years later. Glancing over to Daryl, you could see on his face that he knew 'Mork & Mindy' as well. The man's lips were curled up in a soft smile. It definitely looked like he was visiting the past in his mind; probably thinking back to his childhood.

It wasn't the only glance you stole at Daryl that evening. Your eyes wandered way more often to him than you actually noticed. You didn't, but quite a few another pairs of eyes did... Familiar and unfamiliar...

It was already quite late when everybody returned from the wonderful 'movie night' and retreated to their rooms. You shared a room, and bed with Isabelle - not for the first time in all those years, so neither of you had a problem with that. Why would you?

The nun had already settled down in bed and watched you join her with a small smirk on her lips. A smirk you knew quite well by now. "What?" She looked at you; still smiling. "The French are very poetic and love poetry, you know."

Why is she telling me this? You asked yourself.

"Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point," the blond woman spoke in her native tongue to quote Blaise Pascal; her smile never faltering. You frowned. "The heart has reasons the mind doesn't know? What's that supposed to mean, Isa? Is there something you want to tell me, or...?" The nun just smiled. "Oh, I think you know what I mean. Well, at least your heart does. I noticed, you know." You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. "Could you please stop talking in riddles? Noticed what?"

A soft chuckle left Isabelle's lips. You didn't get it. "The way you look at him."

And suddenly, it fell like scales from your eyes, causing your cheeks to turn beet red. "I-I..." You stammered; looking everywhere but at your friend. "You, uh... You see that?" "I dare to say that it's not very subtle, Y/N." You swallowed. "O-Oh..."

Isabelle smiled and patted the free space on the bed beside her. Cautiously, you climbed in and sat down on the old mattress; criss-crossing your legs. "Why are you embarrassed? You don't have to. L‘amour, l‘amour - ça arrive toujours." You smiled softly at her; fumbling with your hands. "I don't know... It's just... I actually barely know him. How can I fall in love with a stranger?" Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, "Your heart knows. Isn't that enough? Don't question it." and placed a hand on your wrist. "Perhaps isn't Laurent and the mission the only reason God sent Daryl to us..." She smiled again, and you couldn't help but widen your smile.

Your friend wasn't the only one who noticed the looks you were giving Daryl - like you found out on the next day. You were supposed to go on a small mission with Lou - the kids' group leader and Daryl, but you headed out on the once intact and most likely beautiful school yard earlier; deciding to get some fresh air. You watched Laurent play with a some of the other kids; smiling. Some were playing tag, some hide & seek and a few others had a huge rope and were skipping. You didn't think much of it at first, but then you listened closer to what the two girls were singing while swinging the rope. Your brain instantly translated the song, since you knew it so very well. You sang it yourself, back in your school days...

"Y/N and Daryl sitting in the tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage!"

You blinked, had to listen twice to make sure you heard that right... You did. They were singing the kissing song, including your and Daryl's name... "Hey, ya a'right?" The sudden sound of the voice from the man in question urging to your ears ripped you out of your thoughts, but didn't improve your situation. Not even in the slightest. You could still hear the girls singing - now even louder as it seemed; given the fact that Daryl joined you to sit on the small wall by the fence.

Instantly, your cheeks reddened; shocked and even a little embarrassed that also the kids - strange kids noticed that, and of course, because Daryl's presence.

You cleared your throat; quickly nodding. "Yeah, uh, sure. All good." You could tell from the look on your crush's face that he was quite suspicious about your behaviour and answer, but he dropped it and accepted your answer with a nod.

The both of you continued to watch the kids with an unpleasant silence between you, until you noticed a young girl approaching you with a smile. "Y/N?" You gave her a smile. "Oui?" "Tu es américaine? (You are from America, right?)" You nodded. "En fait, je viens de Los Angeles. (Yes, I am from Los Angeles.)" The girl nodded and glanced shortly at the bulky man sitting beside you. "Et père Daryl, il est aussi américain? (And father Daryl is American, too?)" You nodded once more. "Oui, il est. (Yes, he is, too.)"

She smiled and brought out a daisy from behind her back. "Donc, tu connais la comptine 'Je t’aime' ou ça n'existe pas en Amérique? (Do you have the 'He loves me - he loves me not.' game in America as well?)"

You swallowed hard at her words; knowing of course exactly what she meant - or rather what she hinted at. "Je crois que oui, mais je ne l’ai jamais entendu en français. (We do, yeah. But I, uh, don't know how it goes in French.)" The little girl's eyes widened; now shimmering with excitement. "D‘accord! Je te montrerai! (Alright! I show you!)" She started the 'He loves me - he loves me not.' rhyme; all the while plucking petals from the daisy. You listened closely; trying to be attentive.

Meanwhile Daryl was 'just' a silent participant of whatever was going on. The archer didn't understand a single word - besides his name - of what you and the girl had talked about. Until she pulled out the daisy from behind her back...

She finished plucking the daisy until the last petal. A big smile lit up her sweet face as she gazed at you, then Daryl and back at you again. And before you could even say something, she brought out another daisy; now stretching out her hand to you. "C'est ton tour! (Now your turn!)" The excited child in front of you announced.

You would've lied, if you said you didn't see it coming. Of course you did - and that child was a smart girl. She also knew what she did.

Swallowing hard once again, you gently took the daisy from her small hand - a nervous smile on your face. Doing like the girl showed you, you started the rhyme; trying to remember how it went and plucked the petals of the little flower in your hand.

"Je t'aime, un peu, beacoup, tendrement, passionnément, à la folie, pas du tout..." Of course was destiny a lousy traitor and you landed at 'beacoup'- a lot... Now you couldn't prevent the blush from spreading all across your cheeks. You desperately tried to play it cool, given the fact that the man who literally was this all about was sitting right beside you - most likely knowing what was going on. Sure, he may not speak French, but you were quite certain that he knew the game you and the little girl had just played. He knew what was going on. You did not dare to look at Daryl; too afraid of his reaction.

And the little girl? She just giggled and once more looked from you to the archer and back, before she turned on her heels and ran away.

Unpleasant silence lingered between you and Daryl. The man knew the game you had just played - but he was still oblivious of your feelings for him. Yes, the little girl's looks were quite revealing, but why would such a beautiful, stunning creature like you fall in love with a brute, messed-up redneck like him? Impossible. He needed a proof; to test this insane theory.

"Y/N-" Your name leaving his lips was enough to send you into a frenzy - and you panicked. Hastily standing up from the little wall, you fled; quick steps carrying you as far away from the archer as possible.

After the 'incident' in the school yard, you and Daryl didn't talk for days. Only necessary conversations were held. Nothing more. And even during those, you struggled. You couldn't look Daryl in the eyes. Not even for a second. You were sure that the others noticed as well, but just didn't decide to intervene. Your usually extroverted and open self had turned into a shy, bashful woman - as soon as Daryl invaded your space. You were just too afraid of rejection and unrequited feelings - what in your point of view was most likely the case. You may not knew him a long time, but you could tell that he was a lone wolf. He didn't need your or any other company.

You sat on one of the big, wooden tables, close to the edge of the rooftop. A few candles were the only source of light, as you overlooked the once so bright and shiny city of love, which had turned dark, cold and dead. At least at night. The rusting, decaying Eiffel Tower looming above the darkness; only illuminated by the full moon shining from above the sky. It held a strange kind of beauty.

Footsteps and some rustling noises coming undoubtedly from behind you piqued your attention. Nevertheless, you didn't turn to face the approaching person. You didn't have to. You knew by the sounds of the heavy boots connecting with the concrete ground to whom the steps belonged - and it caused your heart immediately to speed up...

Daryl.

Wordlessly, he took a seat beside you; picking nervously at his hands. From the corner of your eye you saw that he was still wearing the black slacks, woollen sweater and suspenders. Did that man ever sleep? Apparently not.

Silence was still lingering between the both of you; spread over your bodies like an invisible blanket - until the archer cleared his throat. "Can't sleep?" You swallowed hard and shook your head; nervosity skyrocketing. "I, uh, needed some fresh air," you answered; still not deigning to look at him. Daryl nodded - rather to himself than to you, and chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a moment; contemplating his next words.

"Couldn't sleep 'n was thinkin' the same." You didn't answer; not having the slightest clue what to say.

Daryl kept quiet as well; recognising that what he had on his mind turned out to be way more difficult to say than he anticipated... His brain worked hard to try and figure out a new plan, but not really successfully.

He had to suppress a groan. Why were things like this always so difficult and complicated? He just wished he could just follow an instruction...

After a few minutes and a trillion failed ideas, Daryl just threw wind into caution and went: Fuck it - and go like a bull at a gate.

"Yer avoidin' me."

Three words... Three words shouldn't leave such a sting on your heart, right? And yet they did. You were walking a thin line between being ashamed and nervous. "I-I do?" Daryl snorted out a scoff; crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "Ya ain't shittin' me, woman. I ain't blind or stupid." "W-Well, I... I don't mean to, it's just... complicated...," you stammered; unable to find the right words to explain this to the man. "'S complicated now, but a week ago it wasn't? Why? 'S not makin' sense." And he was right. You knew he was. He had backed you up against the wall. You ran out of arguments and white lies; leaving you no space to escape.

"It... It's because..." You sighed. "You know why. You know what happened in that school yard. You're a smart man, Daryl. Don't tell me you didn't figure it out and count one and one together."

The archer's heart fluttered at your words. He did read the sign correctly - and the realisation made his stomach flip. A sensation he hadn't felt often in his life before. Something he never thought he'd be graced with experiencing.

Daryl could tell how nervous and antsy this conversation made you, so he tried to keep it together. For yours and his sake.

Though, nobody said this was easy... And words weren't exactly his strong suit.

"A'right, listen..." He may have been ineloquent, but he knew how to compensate it. Especially when body language failed him as well.

"There was this man. Jus' a normal guy in this broken world. He went out lookin' for somethin', but... All he found was trouble. 'N tha' trouble brought him to a place so far from home. All across the ocean, 'n... All the man wanted was to go back 's fast 's possible; this bein' the only damn thing on his mind... Gettin' back home; back where he thought he belonged. But then somethin' happened 'n suddenly he saw things with diff'rent eyes..." "What happened?" Your mouth spoke quicker than you brain could think. Daryl shrugged his shoulders; the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. "A woman."

Your eyes widened and you finally dared to turn your head to look at him - directly into his beautiful blue-grey eyes, and it almost left you breathless. "H-He... He fell in love?" You witnessed Daryl chewing on the pad of his thumb, before he gave you a nod. "Yeah, 's what people do, right?" He slid cautiously closer to you, until his hand brushed the back of your hand. "Fallin' in love..." Daryl whispered in his deep, raspy voice, and slowly took your smaller hand in his big, clammy hand; loosely intertwining your fingers.

Your heart almost stopped; a gasp leaving your lips as the final realisation kicked in... He reciprocated your feelings. They weren't unrequited. The love was mutual - and it caused a firework of emotions to explode within you; blowing away all the negativity. The shyness, the embarrassment, the shame.

A smile spread over your whole face - so bright it could light up the whole world. Daryl was sure of it. Throwing caution to the wind - driven by the love coursing through your veins, you quickly leaned over and pressed your lips against Daryl's. You could tell that he was slightly taken by surprise - but he did not pull away. The archer could never reject you. Quite the opposite...

He lifted his free hand and gently cupped your cheek in his palm; feeling your soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips and locking your lips to his. The kiss was clumsy and slightly chaotic; given the fact that he hadn't kissed somebody in a very long time. Not that you minded. You weren't better. In your eyes the kiss was perfect. Daryl-like.

You smiled; still with your eyes closed, before you slid closer to the archer as well. You rested your head against his shoulder; feeling the fabric of his woollen sweater slightly scratch your cheek.

"Yer comin' with me back home, right?" You nodded instantly. "I'd love to." Daryl smiled and squeezed your hand. "Yer gonna love Alexandria... The Commonwealth, n' all the people livin' there. I jus' know it."

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @dixons-sunshine @loz-3 @making-the-most-0f-it @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @whore4romance @mikaela-granger @sweetz19 @marvelcasey05 @mischief-dream @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @secretsicanthideanymore @stiveroon @mayday2007 @cakesandtom

If you want to be added or removed, please let me know.

[lintwriting]

I was here when mouthwashing was just a demo. here are some things I noticed.

I caught on to the fact that Curly was likely innocent and that Jimmy was an unreliable narrator based on the "Take Responsibility" word scramble and Jimmy's asshole behavior. Because of this, I also did not think there would be supernatural horror, I thought it’d be man-made and psychological, which I was right about.

What I did not expect was the subtle depiction of how workplaces fail victims of rape and misogyny.

What I did not expect was how backgrounded the late stage capitalism critique ended up being.

late stage capitalism: a red herring

From the Demo, you focus a lot on the corporation as the main antagonist, probably because Wrong Organ devs were hiding the villain protagonists.

Ominous posters, a Polle monster chasing you, those ominous TV commercials glorifying working for a corporation, the fact that all this horror was over fucking tooth-rotting mouthwash. Really paints the picture of a corporate horror or conspiracy a la “Time to Orbit: Unknown,” where every chapter unveils a new corporate conspiracy for money and power.

but instead, in mouthwashing, the capitalist aspects are merely plot devices to explore the horror surrounding mismanagement and its consequences.

A power tripping coworker and an enabling manager who got him the job. An eager-to-please kid and an established supervisor willing to take advantage. Flaws in how the hierarchy is decided, leading to the one person who shouldn’t have had power getting the power. Lack of sensitivity training (or whatever that’s called) surrounding things like Title IX concerns, such as the uneven gender dynamics or what to do in the event of a crime or the fact that the person doing the psych evals isn’t getting any evals.

Notice that none of these things are unique to capitalism, they’re issues you’d have to plan for in any workplace/organization, whether that be socialist or capitalist or whatever. The capitalism exacerbates the issues or catalyzes the consequences of them like a plot device, but the issues don’t originate from there.

For example: the lack of any woman other than Anya.

Yes, this was most likely exacerbated by late stage capitalism understaffing to cut corners, leading to skeleton crews, but that the crew we DO have is mostly male is more related to misogyny or gender roles.

Perhaps women don't want to work on these freighters because of the danger of being trapped in a confined space with men. Maybe the jobs required for these freighters, like mechanic or pilot, are male-dominated. Or maybe the hiring manager had a bias where they viewed men as more competent, etc. The fact of the matter is that the cause is the same when you dig down deep into it: misogyny.

Or the layoff. The laying off of the crew is its own form of evil, but its consequences aren’t the ones being explored within this story. Most of the crew die of the horrors within the ship before they ever have to face it. In fact, the horrors within the ship don't really even have anything to do with the layoff at all. It’s a bit of a red herring.

Rather, the actual cause of this game’s horror is the mismanaged fallout of Jimmy’s assault. Most obviously in that scene where we see Curly for the first time, wherein Curly doesn’t take Anya’s safety concerns seriously, even when Jimmy is actively threatening to make everyone disappear so neither of them have to face the consequences of the assault.

I initially misread that scene as Curly evilly conspiring to let Jimmy crash the ship so neither of them would take the fall, hence us finally seeing Curly's “true face.” Because I read what Jimmy said as inherently threatening and serious, I thought Curly had agreed to that awful plan and only got cold feet at the last minute.

It’s only from reading other comments that I realized Curly had most likely assumed Jimmy was blowing hot air and needed to cool down in that scene. Or that he was making an inappropriate joke akin to his 'sexually attracted to cartoon horses' thing and wasn't being serious. Curly didn’t realize Jimmy was actually talking about a real plan until it was too late stop it (makes me wonder if Jimmy was actually attracted to the horse, too).

Thus, it goes from a story about corner-cutting late stage capitalist megacorps to a story about cartoonishly evil, power-tripping men to a story about how we enable these men with failures in our system.

Much like how the beginning of the game, when Jimmy crashes the ship, a failure in the safety systems is what allows the crash to happen (Seriously? One pilfered key is all you need to send your ship into a crash?), a series of social safety nets had to have failed to let him into the cockpit in the first place. The true face is not Curly conspiring to crash the ship out of cowardice and greed, but his inability to face what his friend has done.

[u6is]

"wish you were here right now"

summary: at a lively yacht party celebrating his team's league win, Kylian ignores the chaos around him, staying on his phone with you—and the conversation quickly takes a steamy turn.

—kylian mbappé x reader: smut (PWP)

"The team are having this yacht trip to celebrate our win." Kylian said, his voice crackling over the phone line, "Would you like to join me?"

But you couldn’t. You had already promised your mom that you’d go on the family trip that had been planned beforehand.

"I'm sorry," you replied, trying to mask the disappointment, "I wish I could be there with you."

The line was silent for a moment before Kylian spoke up, his voice a mix of understanding and a hint of sadness, "It's alright, babe. I get it. You can't miss out on family time. I'll just have to party extra hard for the both of us." He laughed, attempting to lighten the mood.

You knew his teammates—or as he calls them, his "friends"—were probably lining up a night full of partying with female escorts in tow. Still, you trusted your boyfriend wholeheartedly. “Have fun, okay? Congrats again on the win. I’ll see you in a few days,” you said softly over the phone.

The family trip was nice. The sunsets were beautiful, and your mom’s cooking was always a delight.

But Kylian’s texts kept coming in. He sent pictures of the vast ocean and the lavish yacht. He talked about the fancy dinners and the wild parties, he said it wasn’t the same without you.

“Fireworks are set for tonight,” Kylian texted, attaching a shirtless photo of himself, clearly meant to tease you.

You couldn’t help but smile, imagining his playful grin and the way his eyes would light up when he knew he’d won you over.

You quickly typed back, “Sounds exciting.” But as you stared at the photo, you couldn't shake the feeling that Kylian was teasing you on purpose, his abs almost taunting you from the distance between you two.

The thought of him surrounded by those gorgeous women didn’t sit well with you, but you had promised yourself not to be that girlfriend.

“Send me a selfie?” Kylian texted, interrupting your thoughts.

You took a deep breath and stepped outside the balcony of your private hotel room, the cool sea breeze kissing your skin. You quickly snapped a selfie, standing in the sunlight. Your sundress, the one that hugged your body perfectly, flowed gently with the breeze, accentuating your curves. With a playful grin, you tilted your head just enough to catch the light, sending the photo with a casual, natural air, teasing him without even trying.

Kylian’s reply was quick, and you could almost hear the smirk in his words:

"Tu es la plus belle femme que j’aie jamais vue." (You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.)

"That dress is doing more than just looking good on you." His tone was cocky, playful, and definitely hinted at more than just teasing.

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. It was all fun and games until his next message popped up: "I would take that dress off you in the blink of an eye."

As the night went on, the party was in full swing, with his teammates living it up and the escorts they brought along.

Achraf, one of Kylian's best friends and teammates, noticed Kylian hadn’t put his phone down all night. Standing up from the couch with a girl by his side, he walked over to where Kylian was still smiling at his screen.

Achraf gently grabbed Kylian’s phone, and Kylian looked up with a raised eyebrow. "What's up, Hakimi?"

"You’ve been on that thing all night," Achraf said, laughing. "You’re missing all the fun."

"I’m having fun," Kylian replied, still smiling.

"Yeah, fun with your phone," Achraf teased, tossing the phone back to Kylian. "I’ll grab you a drink, but seriously, put the phone down. You’re no fun to the girls."

Kylian just smirked, getting up and following Achraf. As they walked, he quickly typed out a message to you: "I’ll talk to you later, babe."

Kylian wasn’t really a big drinker, but tonight he’d indulge for the celebration. Still, his mind kept drifting back to you in that sundress. He’d saved the photo and found himself glancing at it over and over. There was something about the way you looked in that dress that had his thoughts spinning, intoxicated, not by the alcohol in his hand, but by the image of you.

A few minutes later, with the alcohol starting to take its effect, Kylian found himself reaching for his phone once more. His fingers typed out a message before he could stop himself.

"Can’t stop thinking about you in that dress," he texted, his words slow and a bit more daring than usual.

He stared at the screen for a moment, then added, "Maybe I should come see you sooner than planned."

"You haven’t seen me in my bikinis yet," you replied, adding a pleading face emoji, hoping to make it seem like an innocent tease.

As you hit send, a rush of excitement coursed through you. There was something thrilling about flirting with him like this, especially knowing that despite the many people on the yacht, including all the stunning women around, his attention was completely fixed on you.

Kylian’s reply was teasing and direct: "You’re driving me wild just thinking about it. Don't make me wait."

With a nervous giggle, you stepped into the bathroom, the cool marble floor beneath your feet. You untied the strings of your sundress, letting it drop to the floor. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your heart racing. The bikini was new, a surprise you had packed for when you’d finally get some time alone on the beach. The neon blue of the top contrasted with your tanned skin, and the bottoms hugged your hips perfectly.

You took a deep breath and held your phone up, angling it just right to capture the reflection in the mirror. The camera clicked, and you studied the image for a moment. You looked amazing. You bit your lip, feeling a mix of excitement and naughtiness.

Achraf was talking to him when Kylian’s phone buzzed with a notification. He smirked as he looked at the screen, feeling a surge of heat rush through him. The picture you sent him had definitely stirred something inside, an arousing thrill coursing through him.

Achraf glanced at Kylian, who was smirking with his head down, absorbed in his phone. "You're no fun, Kyks," his teammate remarked, but Kylian didn't hear him, lost in his own thoughts.

He glanced at the picture again, his eyes lingering on your reflection in the mirror. The neon blue bikini was a bold choice and it had definitely paid off. The way the bottoms hugged your hips, it was a sight that made his heart race.

You watched the screen, your heart pounding in your chest, as you waited for Kylian's response. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a thrill of excitement that made your skin tingle. The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity.

Then, his message appeared. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now." It was raw, unfiltered, and incredibly arousing. The words sent a jolt through your body, and you felt your cheeks flush. You couldn't believe he'd said something so explicit, but the desire in his message was undeniable.

You took a step closer to the mirror, the cool air of the cabin brushing against your skin. Your eyes traced the curves captured by the bikini, and you felt your body respond to his words, a warm ache building between your legs.

Kylian's gaze was glued to his phone, his heart racing as he stared at the picture. His shorts began to tent as an erection grew, the fabric straining against his hardened cock. He shifted uncomfortably, the pressure increasing with each passing moment.

Amidst the laughter and chatter of his teammates, he couldn't ignore the ache in his pants. It was like a silent symphony playing only for him, a sweet torture that grew with every glance at your bikini-clad reflection.

Kylian excused himself, "I'll catch up with you later, mec," he says, struggling to keep his voice steady, thick with longing, and retreated to the cabin he had booked for privacy. The door clicked shut behind him, muffling the outside world.

He looked down at the bulge, a silent testament to his desire, and groaned. The shorts felt like a prison around his throbbing cock.

His phone chimed once more, a message from you lighting up the screen. "Your turn," you texted. "I want to see you."

Kylian didn’t waste a second. He sat on the edge of the plush bed in his cabin, the soft white sheets a stark contrast to his tanned skin. He looked down at the bulge in his shorts, his pulse quickening. With a devilish smirk, he unbuttoned his shorts, letting them fall to his knees, his cock springing free.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. It was thick and hard, standing proudly against his abs. The tip was flushed a darker shade of pink, begging for attention. Kylian’s hand wrapped around it, stroking it gently. He took a deep breath, feeling the headiness of his desire for you.

With a grin, he held the phone in one hand and began to stroke himself with the other. The camera captured every inch of him, the way his hand moved up and down his shaft, the way his abs tightened with each stroke. He knew you'd love watching him, the same way he craved seeing you in your bikini.

The room grew hazy with his building arousal, the scent of saltwater and cologne filling his nostrils. The sound of the waves outside was a gentle serenade to his own escalating rhythm, the stroke of his hand against his skin echoing in the quiet cabin.

He sent the video, his heart pounding as he awaited your response.

It took you a moment to process the video. Kylian, your sweet, loving boyfriend, was masturbating for you. The sight of him, so raw and vulnerable, made your core throb with desire. You watched him stroke his cock and you realized you had never wanted him more.

Your hands shake as you place your phone on the counter, pressing the record button. Your eyes remained glued to the screen as you reached behind and untied the strings of your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts bounced freely, the cool air of the room teasing your already hardened nipples.

You stepped closer to the phone, your heart racing as you slid your hand down the front of your bikini bottoms. You felt the wetness of your desire, and a soft moan slipped from your lips as your fingers grazed your clit.

As his phone chimed once more, Kylian watched the video you had sent in response. His eyes locked onto your every move. The sound of your breathing grew heavier, the sight of your hand disappearing beneath the fabric of your bikini driving him wild. He stroked his cock faster, his thumb swiping over the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip.

He couldn't help himself—his need to hear your voice was too strong. With one hand still wrapped around his shaft, he called you with the other. He facetimed you amidst the noise of the party, his teammates cheering and music blasting in the background. The line connected, and your face appeared on his screen, illuminated softly by the warm glow of your bathroom. "I'm so fucking hard for you right now," he growled into the phone.

Your breath hitched when you heard the raw desire in Kylian's voice. The sound of the waves outside the cabin grew distant as you focused on the sensation of your fingers playing with your clit, tracing delicate circles as you watched him stroke himself in the camera. "Oh, baby," you moaned, "me too."

"Take those bottoms off," Kylian ordered, his voice thick with lust. "I want to see all of you."

Your hands trembled as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You pulled them down slowly, your pussy exposed to the cool air. Your phone was propped up on the sink, the camera clearly capturing you as you stood right in front of it. Kylian's eyes were glued to the screen, his breaths coming in quick, shallow pants.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmured, his hand moving faster on his cock.

The sound of his voice, the sight of him stroking himself, it all sent you spiraling into a frenzy. You stepped closer to the sink, spreading your legs apart for the camera, giving Kylian the full view of your aroused pussy.

"Oh, baby," Kylian murmured, his voice thick with lust, "you're so fucking wet for me." His hand moved faster, the slick sound of his hand against his cock echoing in your ear.

From your perspective, everything is cloaked in darkness, as if he's in a private space, alone with his desire. The only sounds are his groans and the strokes of his hand on his cock. You feel entirely exposed for him, and it gives you the confidence you need.

You could feel yourself getting wetter just hearing him. You slid two fingers inside yourself, the sensation making your toes curl. "Kylian," you gasped, your voice a needy whisper, "I want you so bad."

"Fuck, me too, baby," he groaned, the sound of his hand moving up and down his cock a sweet symphony to your ears. "I wish I could be there to taste you."

Eventually, you notice it, Kylian’s eyes were hooded with desire as he watched you touch yourself. He took a deep, shaky breath, then spoke in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine. "Add another finger inside of you, baby."

Your body responding to his voice. The feel of your three fingers sliding in and out of your wetness was heavenly. "Just like that," Kylian instructed, his breathing becoming more ragged. "Imagine it's my cock, pumping deep inside of you, making you moan like you do when we're together."

You closed your eyes, the image of Kylian fucking you playing in your mind like a steamy home-made video. The sounds you made were pure, raw desire, echoing like a melody of forbidden passion.

"Turn around for me baby," Kylian's voice was a command, yet it held an undertone of longing, the kind that made your knees weak and your pussy clench with anticipation. You obeyed, feeling a thrill at the thought of him watching you so intimately despite the miles between you. You turned around, the soft curve of your ass on full display.

Your free hand reached out to the wall for balance as you began to finger yourself, the other hand buried deep inside your pussy. The sensation was exquisite, a delicious mix of pleasure and vulnerability that had you gasping for air.

You arched your back. The sensation was surprisingly erotic, and you couldn’t help but tip your hips back, pushing your ass towards the camera.

"That's it," Kylian's voice was strained, his need for you palpable through the phone. "Now, touch your clit. Slowly."

You shifted your other hand from the wall to your clit. You took a shaky breath, your heart racing at his command. Your fingertips grazing the swollen bud of your clit. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles, feeling your arousal spike.

He watched as your other delicate fingers move in and out, his gaze intense as he tried to mimic your motions with his own hands, imagining it was his cock instead

Kylian watched, his breath hitching as he stroked his cock in time with your movements. "Fuck, baby, your ass looks so good," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I can't wait to fuck you again."

Your ass and legs began to tremble, the tension in your body building with every stroke. You could feel your orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over you. "Kylian," you gasped, your voice trembling as much as your body, "I'm going to cum."

His groans grew louder, his strokes faster, "Do it, baby. Cum for me."

With trembling legs, you began to slap your pussy, trying to hold back the impending orgasm. Your other hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sounds escaping you, your body trembling with unrestrained pleasure.

The stinging sensation mixed with the pleasure of your fingering was overwhelming. Each slap echoed through the quiet room, a rhythmic punctuation to Kylian's strokes and your gasps.

You slid a finger again, feeling your cum ooze. The sight was so erotic, so raw, that you couldn't help but look at the camera behind you, a tired smile playing on your lips. You knew Kylian was watching, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh, and the thought made you hotter.

"Putain bébé, t'es tellement sexy," (Fuck baby, you're so sexy)

Kylian's voice was a hoarse whisper, the sound of his hand still working his cock in the background.

His hand move faster, his strokes becoming more erratic. The tension in his body was palpable, his muscles tightening with every second that passed. And then, with a loud groan, he came.

Kylian's cum shot out in thick ropes, splattering against his abs and stomach. The sight was mesmerizing, a beautiful mess of white and your desire. He painted himself with his release, his hand moving in slow, lazy circles, smearing it across his skin.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours, "That was incredible."

You watched him through the phone screen, panting and flushed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. You couldn't believe what had just happened—how you'd both given into the moment, separated by miles of ocean yet feeling closer than ever.

He took a picture, capturing his cum-covered abs and his still-hard cock. He sent it to you without a word, and you stared at the image, a strange mix of satisfaction and longing filling you. The stark white of his cum against his tanned skin was a powerful visual, a testament to the intensity of his desire for you.

With your own arousal still pulsing through you, you pulled your bikini bottoms back up, feeling the sticky wetness of your cum against your skin. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of naughtiness as you adjusted the panties. They felt like a secret, a deliciously dirty little part of you that Kylian had unlocked from afar.

"I want to fuck you, baby," Kylian's voice was a low rumble, the sound of his need resonating through your body. You could feel your pussy clench at the words, the desire for him to fill you up so intense it was almost painful.

"I want that too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "So much."

The line went quiet again, the only sound the distant laughter from outside the cabin and the steady beat of your own heart. You felt a sense of longing, a deep ache that no amount of self-pleasure could ever truly fill.

"I miss you," Kylian finally said, his voice softer now, the passionate haze of his orgasm giving way to a tender vulnerability.

You grabbed your sundress from the floor and slipped it on, your legs still trembling from what had just happened.

You felt your own heart swell at his words, the distance between you suddenly feeling like a tangible void that needed to be filled. "Me too," you murmured, leaning against the sink, the coolness of the marble a stark contrast to the heat of your skin.

Kylian took a deep, shaky breath, then stood up from the bed. He reached for a towel, wiping the last remnants of his pleasure from his stomach and cock. His erection began to subside, the need momentarily sated by the intense orgasm he'd just had. He pulled his shorts back on, his cock still half-hard, the fabric clinging to his skin like a second layer.

As he buttoned them up, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness that it wasn't your hand touching him.

"I'll be home soon," Kylian promised, his voice still thick with lust. "And when I do, I'm going to fuck you like it's the last time we'll ever be together."

The words hung in the air, heavy with desire and promise. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a thrill that was both terrifying and incredibly exciting. "I'll be waiting," you murmured, your voice a mere whisper of a promise.

Exhaustion enveloped your body as you whispered that you’d call him by morning, and with shared "I love yous," the call ended.

Kylian remained in a euphoric haze, as he stepped out of his cabin, he tried to mask the storm within. But his mind raced with the memory of your sounds, your body.

He found Achraf and walked over to him.

"There you are, the best player in the world," his teammate joked, his voice thick with drunken cheer as he raised his cup in a toast.

That night, Kylian felt like a God, basking in the praise of his teammates. Yet, his thoughts were consumed by the longing to return to you, to worship you—his Goddess.

note: ngl, that leaked convo from when he was still at Monaco..man’s a freak 😭 this fic gives off “I’m doing it, are you?” meme LMAOOO bye 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[maple-tree-hills]

Percy Jackson AU where instead of Poseidon being absent in Percy’s life, he helps raise him. But Percy doesn’t know his dad is Poseidon. He thinks Peter Johnson is a marine biologist and a fisherman who is frequently on long business trips for his job. Maybe Sally and Poseidon are divorced, and she marries Smelly Gabe or maybe they’re still together, who knows.

Just, instead of Percy being in anger at the gods for neglecting their children he’s in disbelief that his very normal father is Poseidon. They go on fishing trips together all the time and he dresses like a tacky Hawaiian tourist. Not a god. He refuses to believe this despite Grover being a satyr, and Mr. Brunner being a centaur.

I’m not sure if Percy should know all of the gods or not. Maybe he knows Mr. D already as Cousin Dexter. Cousin Dexter has shown up a couple of times in his life. He’s a devil for the drink and a known alcoholic, so why is he at this weird camp playing cards with Grover and Mr. Brunner? And they start talking about the gods and demigods again. And Mr. D calls him ‘mortal.’ And Percy’s like yeah, no Cousin Dexter has had a bit too much to drink despite the fact that he can’t smell any alcohol on him, and he’s only been drinking Diet Coke. Percy switches subjects as to why Mr. D isn’t drinking any alcohol. Apparently, his father won’t let him drink alcohol anymore and is forcing him to work at this summer camp. Percy is happy to hear this because at least someone isn’t having Cousin Dexter’s shit anymore.

Then they switch gears back into the conversion about gods existing and he’s sure Grover, or Mr. Brunner, or Mr. D will say sike, but none of them do. They all seriously believe in the gods. Well Percy is stubborn and won’t be convinced this easily.

And then he finds out that Hades stole the master bolt and has his mother, and he’s like uncle Hector? Uncle Hector is a god of the underworld? And he has my mother and stole Zeus’s lightning bolt? No way. Uncle Hector lives in LA and works at a music producing studio. He is not the god of the underworld. He is not Hades, this is insane and Percy does not appreciate being punked. He’ll admit some supernatural stuff is real because a minatur killed his mom, but being a demigod no way.

And they keep telling Percy about the family drama and he’s still in disbelief. All he knows about uncle Zane is that his father is not on good terms with him. There’s no way uncle Zane who his father HATES, who works in the Empire State Building is Zeus. There’s just no way.

And then he finds out about the Big Three and forbidden children thing. And he goes ‘That can’t be true uncle Hector has two kids: cousin Bianca and cousin Nico.’ And he just accidentally spoils to everyone that Hades has not kept his end of the pact about fathering more mortal children.

And then they’re on the road going through quests fighting against Alecto again, Echidna, and Medusa and Percy still can’t believe the gods are real.

It isn’t until he gets to the underworld that he starts believing. There seated on a dark throne surrounded by skeletons is Uncle Hector? Uncle Hector is actually Hades? He’s freaking out he’s never seen his uncle this way before. He’s terrifying and keeps demanding this Helm of Darkness thing in exchange for his mother. Where’s Nico he wants to hang out with his cousin?

And maybe Percy sasses him because what the heck uncle Hector sending furies after your nephew and holding your sister-in-law hostage and accusing your nephew of theft is not cool. And things for the most part will proceed like they do in the book for the most part. I could see Hades when he’s pretending to be a human behaving similarly to Jay Duplass’s portrayal of him in the TV show. Just a comical uncle who is most certainly not lord of the underworld.

(I’ve only seen the TV and I’ve almost finished the first book so far, but I do know Hades has two kids named Bianca and Nico)

[formula-hamilton]

Antarctica (Lewis Hamilton x Reader)

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: You and Lewis have been dating for some months when suddenly the video of him in Antarctica with a girl on his lap emerges. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Angst, stupid Lewis, swearing, mentions of cheating, but not really (no real infidelity), fluff.

A/N: I wrote this because I really wanted to read this type of fic as soon as I saw the hot tub video. If anyone has written anything similar, please tag me because I live for these kind of fics and I would love to read it. Also I obviously don’t know what went down in Antarctica, so this is purely fiction. No hate to the hot tub girl. 

-- 

Stupid. So stupid.

That was how you felt as you sat at your desk at work staring at your phone. Just almost wanted to roll your eyes at your stupidity. Instead you closed your eyes and tried to hold back the tears you felt prickling behind your eyelids. 

You were supposed to leave work early this Friday. Lewis was going to fly you out to LA to celebrate his birthday Saturday and then you were going to stay with him for the coming week. He was going to introduce you to his friends. A few you had already met, but he insisted that it was time for you to meet the rest of them. 

You’re gonna love them, I just know it.

No need to be nervous about it baby, I’ve told them loads about you and they already love you.

He would always beam with excitement when talking about them. His smile would hold so much pride. 

You felt stupid for assuming. For being naïve. You never talked about being exclusive. Meeting friends, meeting family, you assumed that the two of you were serious about each other. That you were on the path to making your relationship official. Sitting at your desk you came to the realization that this thing wasn’t a relationship. It was clearly just a situationship and honestly that wasn’t what you were looking to find yourself in.

Maybe this is how it is dating someone not normal, you thought. Maybe there are different rules to follow. You hadn’t realized this before, but clearly the two of you were living in two different realities. 

For Christmas he brought you on his family’s ski trip. Just for a few days as you had your own commitments for the holidays. But he brought you, introduced you to everyone, held your hand in front of his family, kissed you in front of his family, called you his when you were in bed at night. He never called you his girlfriend and that didn’t bother you until now. You didn’t even spare it a thought until now. When you were younger, you and your friends always joked that if you kissed someone in public in daylight, it meant that you were official. If meeting family wasn’t enough to make a relationship official, to make it exclusive, you really didn’t know what it would take. 

24 years old. The woman, if you could even call her that, was 24 years old. That was all everyone talked about. Apparently this was not unusual for Lewis. Apparently she was just his type. Young and beautiful and a model. But still, Twitter was going crazy. 

Normally you didn’t indulge in gossip surrounding Lewis and F1 in general. You didn’t even seek out this piece of information yourself. Your younger sister sent you the video on Instagram. You almost missed the ending where Lewis sat in the hot tub having the time of his life with someone sitting on his lap. 

You wish you could erase it from your brain. Go back to the fantasy in your head. But you couldn’t. Instead you found yourself dug down in a Twitter hole trying to soak in every single detail possible. What stuck to you the most was how they apparently used to see each other in the past. If that wasn’t proof enough, you don’t know what was. You normally thought it was crazy how people found so much information about celebrities. You and Lewis always joked about it. Joked about how the fans would make great detectives. And then you would laugh about how none of them had any clue about the two of you. 

You were a very well kept secret. You both liked it that way. It made everything easier. Made the whole “getting to know each other” stage more simple. Obviously, people close to you knew, but the public didn’t. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of Lewis’ grand plan. By keeping his flings secret he could have one in every city he visited. Maybe you were just his London bed warmer. 

Silly of you to think that dating in your thirties would bring more maturity to the table. Honestly, the men were just as immature and on top of that, they brought all the baggage from shitty relationships in their twenties. For some reason you thought Lewis was different. Your heart ached for him to be different. 

You almost jumped out of your chair when you heard a knock on the door. Fuck. You quickly blinked the tears away and sat up straight before calling for the person to enter. Your boss poked his head in.

“I didn’t expect to see you here still, don’t you have a flight to catch?” He asked. 

“Yeah, but I have quite a lot of work to do so I think I might just stay a bit longer,” you said while trying to smile without it looking forced. You must have looked weird because he looked worriedly at you. “Really. It’s no trouble. I still have time before I have to leave for the airport, and if not I can always take a later flight.”

“Well, do whatever suits you, but remember to relax during your vacation. You deserve it,” he said while smiling. As he left, you slumped back down in your chair. You looked up at the ceiling while massaging your temples. What the fuck am I gonna do? You thought. 

It was clear to you that going to LA wasn’t an option. You didn’t want to continue whatever the two of you had going on. You didn’t want a casual thing. You had even told Lewis that. Told him that you were finally content with your career and was ready to pursue a serious relationship. You had shared your thoughts and your dreams for the future. You thought that he wanted the same things even though you hadn’t explicitly talked about in the context of your relationship.  

You knew that you were falling for him. You thought that he was falling for you as well. Stupid of you to assume when none of you had said the words. 

Your phone buzzed on the table. It was a text from him. You quickly opened it. 

Have a safe flight baby. Looking forward to seeing you again x 

Your eyes narrowed as you read the text again and again. Surely he must have seen the things being said about him in Antarctica. Or someone must have told him. His lack of explanation annoyed you immensely. It proofed to you that he didn’t even view it as mistake as you had maybe hoped he would. Clearly you were the one on the wrong page. 

You wiped a few angry tears that had escaped and typed out a reply. 

I have decided against going. Sorry for the late call, but I’ve realized we clearly want different things and I think it would be a mistake going knowing it would just postpone the inevitable. I hope you enjoy your birthday. All the best. 

As you hit send you noticed your shaking hands. You hastily turned off your phone and shut down your computer before grabbing your coat and bag. You almost ran out the office and decided to walk home instead of taking the tube. The thought of the tube right now was almost enough to send you into a full blown panic attack. You needed fresh air and to clear your head. 

--

As you shut the door behind you to your flat, you almost stumbled over your packed suitcase. “What a fucking shitty day, for fuck’s sake,” you mumbled to yourself, as you pushed the suitcase away and kicked off your shoes. Finally, you reached your destination, your bed. You told yourself that you would spent the weekend indulging in self-pity and then Monday you would try to find something to do for the rest of your stupid work break. 

But of course the tears wouldn’t come now that you were finally in the safety of your own home. You decided that they needed a little push and therefore turned on your phone again and found a playlist on Spotify named “Sad songs”. Perfect, hopefully that would get the job done. The messages popping in on your phone didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you chose to ignore them. Instead you opted to go to Instagram again to speed up the pity party. 

After taking a quick scroll through her Instagram you decided to spare yourself for further damages. There was no need to start comparing the two of you, that would only make matters worse. This was about Lewis. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t commit. Whilst putting down your phone, you finally felt the tears making their way. As you sobbed your way to sleep that night, you kept wishing that this would all just be a bad dream. 

--

When you woke up the next morning you had an awful headache from clenching your jaw too tight all night. Rolling to your side, you grabbed your phone. 8AM the display read. You’d slept for almost 12 hours. You couldn’t ignore all the notifications anymore. You quickly answered your sister that you were okay and that you had ended things with Lewis. Some of your friends had texted you and wished you a nice trip. You chose to ignore those messages. You would fill them in at a later time. Lastly, you got to Lewis’ texts. He had also called you numerous times. 

Please pick up the phone

Has something happened? I’m really worried. Pls call me

I just wanna talk to you to make sure you’re alright. I’m sure we can fix it baby

I just saw the video. I’m so sorry, it isn’t what it looks like. Just let me explain

Nothing happened with her, I promise you. I would never do that. Just pick up the phone so we can talk

You tossed your phone to the bottom of your bed. You were so angry. Both at him and at yourself. You were angry about his excuses. You had heard them all before and in the end it always turned out to be true. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, your past experiences told you. You were angry at yourself for trusting him, for letting him into your life. For hoping that what you had was genuine. It had all been too good to be true. 

--

As the days went by, you got better and better. You were hoping to book a vacation for somewhere sunny, but they were all too expensive because it was so last minute. Instead you found yourself content with living in your bed and catching up on all your favorite tv shows. Lewis kept calling and you kept ignoring his calls. You almost felt bad about it because of his birthday Saturday, but then you decided he could fuck off. If this had affected his birthday it was his own fault. Monday afternoon you were dozing off while watching the newest season of Grey’s Anatomy. Suddenly the doorbell woke you up. You hurriedly wiped some droll from your chin and tried to fix your hair in a ponytail before waddling to the door. 

As you opened the door Lewis appeared with the biggest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. You almost wanted to shut the door on his face and just go back to sleep. As if he could read your mind he stepped forward just enough for you to be unable to close the door.

“Please let me in baby. Let me explain everything,” he quietly pleaded. He looked like a wounded puppy. Dark circles under his big sad eyes. You had never seen him like this before. Always happy and positive Lewis. Sometimes too positive, you had thought before. Seeing him like this made you realize that you’d rather see him disgustedly positive, than this sad ever again. 

Deep in your mind you had a feeling he might show up like this. You were now wishing that you had just picked up the phone so you could be spared this interaction with him. Nevertheless, you gestured for him to enter your home. You noticed how he glanced at the forgotten suitcase in the entryway. 

“So, explain away,” you told him as you both stood in your living room. You with crossed arms and him with that ridiculously big bouquet in his arms. 

“I’m really sorry about that video,” Lewis began slowly, as if he wanted to test the waters. You scoffed and cut him off. 

“You’re sorry about the video? What the fuck Lewis? Did you expect me to not find out or what? Or did you think I wouldn’t care?” You angrily said. “Fuck the video, I’m glad I saw it. I probably never would have known if your friend wasn’t stupid enough to share it. I’m glad that guy was so stupid. At least he spared me wasting any more time on you, on us. I can’t believe I thought there was an us.” You felt the tears were about to appear once again and wiped them away with your shaking hands before it got too bad. 

“You know what? I kept feeling stupid and angry at myself for thinking we were something real. But I realized I’m in my full right to feel angry at you and not at myself. I don’t know what delusional celebrity world you’re living in, but in the real world, stuff don’t work like that. Bringing someone round for Christmas kinda means that you are not fucking some Instagram model the week after in Antarctica!” You yelled at ham. You had never yelled at him before and Lewis wished for you to never do it ever again. He hadn’t understood the seriousness of the whole situation before now. 

“I, I didn’t. I didn’t sleep with her,” Lewis said with eyes so wide it looked like they might pop out. If it wasn’t such and awful situation you might have laughed. He took a few breaths and seemed to collect his thoughts. 

“I know what it looks like, but nothing happened. She sat on my lap because there wasn’t other seats. I didn’t think, we were all drinking, and I didn’t think anything about it. I can see now how it looks from the outside, but that was the closest I was to her the whole week. I know that people are saying the she was my guest, but I didn’t invite her for the trip. She was with some other guy. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by pushing her away. I know you probably know about our history and I didn’t wanna be an asshole to her, but it was wrong of me to have her sitting on my lap like she was my girl.” The tears welled in Lewis’ eyes. He felt absolutely awful for the way he had made you feel. 

“I understand if it’s over between us, but it’s very important for me that you know I didn’t cheat on you. I know that’s your worst fear in a relationship and I would never ever do that to you,” Lewis finished and tried to make eye contact with you. Tried to get a sense of what was going on in your head. You looked down at your feet and closed your eyes. Trying to think of what to say. What to believe. You wanted to believe ham, but a part of you wasn’t ready to let go of the doubt. 

“You looked very comfortable with her sitting there. Very happy.” You finally looked up and your eyes met. Only for a second though. This time Lewis was the one to look down. 

“I wasn’t. I was happy with my friends, but I wasn’t happy with her sitting there. As soon as there was a free seat I pushed her off me and she sat there instead. I am so sorry that I let her sit there in the first place, but I promise you, nothing more happened between us.” Lewis felt his tears well over and run down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them with his shoulder seeing as his hands were full, but it didn’t really work. 

“Bringing you to meet my family was so special to me. I haven’t introduced anyone to my family in years. This isn’t something I just do with anybody. Since we met in September you have become such an important part of my life and I haven’t opened my heart to anyone like this before. I’m so sorry for hurting you and making you think you’re stupid. I’m the only one stupid here. This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but I’m in love with you. I’m so sorry that these are the circumstances I’m telling you under, but you deserve to know, ” Lewis looked in your eyes and tried to read your feelings. His eyes were filled with hope. You just stared at him while nibbling on your bottom lip and he couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. He decided to break the silence. 

“These are for you,” he said while handing you the flowers. “I hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive me, but I’m gonna leave you to it. Once again, I just wanna say how sorry I am.” As you stood there with the bouquet, Lewis slipped out of your living room and out of your flat. Out of your life, just as you had wanted. 

You stood and watched the flowers in front of you. Thoughts running wild in your head. Thoughts about how people always brought baggage from previous relationships. You never thought it applied to you. Yes, Lewis had made a mistake, but you didn’t have any reason to not believe his words. He hadn’t given you any reason to believe that he was like your exes. It wasn’t right of you to let past trust issues follow you into this thing with him. You had finally made a decision.

The flowers got thrown on the table and you ran to the suitcase in the entryway. Zipping it open, you threw the clothes on the floor until you finally found what you were looking for. A little box wrapped in green gift wrap with small bulldogs on it, tied up with little gold bow. You slipped on some sandals and ran down the stairs. The cold January air hit you hard as you ran to the street. You were only wearing sweats and a t-shirt. You looked around you, trying to search for Lewis. Hoping he hadn’t already left. You jogged down the street and frantically tried to see if you could spot him. 

As you crossed the street, you finally spotted his car. Parked, just a couple of cars in front of you. You let out a breath of relief and slowly walked towards it. As you got closer you could see Lewis sitting in the driver’s seat with his head in his hands. It was obvious that he was crying and you felt a deep sting in your chest. Carefully, you knocked on the window to the passenger seat, trying not to startle him. You didn’t succeed as he jumped slightly in his seat. When he looked at you, you smiled softly and give him a small wave. He leaned over and pulled the handle on the door for you.

As you sat down just rested your hands in your lap and held the small gift on your thigh. 

“I’m in love with you too Lewis. These past four months with you have been the most amazing months in my life. I’ve been so happy, but I’m also so scared to get hurt again. Obviously I don’t approve of the hot tub situation, but I know it was wrong of me to shut you out like that. It’s difficult for me to trust people, but I already trust you so much even though we haven’t known each other for that long.” You took a deep breath. “What I wanna say is, I forgive you and I wanna give us a go. Officially.”

Your hands reached out to Lewis’ face. You wanted to wipe his tears away, to wipe away any sadness he might feel in the future. He looked at you with the kindest eyes you had ever seen in your life. You had never seen eyes as beautiful as his before. As your fingers stroked his cheeks you hesitantly leaned in. Noticing what you were trying to achieve, Lewis did the same and met you halfway. When your lips finally touched after being apart for two weeks, you knew that this was the right decision. One of Lewis’ hands found your hair while the other found your thigh. Nothing had ever felt so right in your life. 

Remembering the gift, you pulled away from Lewis. 

“I have something for you. For your birthday.” You handed him the small box.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

Lewis smiled at your choice of wrapping paper. He carefully tore off the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. Inside the box was a necklace with a small moon pendant. 

“Remember the moon on our second date?” You asked and he nodded, smiling so big he thought his face might break in two. 

“Of course I remember baby. The moon was so bright that night. You looked so beautiful in the moonlight.”

“You looked so handsome as well and I remember thinking already back then that you were someone special. Someone I wanted in my life. And then you later told me to always look at the moon when I’m missing you. That that was what you did when you missed me and I just thought that was so sweet. Every time I miss you I look at the moon and I instantly feel better. So I wanted to give you something so you always have me with you when we’re not together. Your own little moon,” you told him while smiling.

“Thank you so much sweetheart, this is the best birthday gift I ever could have wished for,” Lewis beamed while pulling you into his chest. You crawled onto his lap and straddled him. He took your face in his hands. “I really love you,” he told you before connecting his lips to yours once again. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you instantly gave him access to your mouth. As you started to grind down on him, he interrupted the two of you.  

“Come on, let’s go upstairs again baby. I wanna show you how much I’ve missed you,” Lewis said with a smirk as he pulled you off him. You let out a small whine at the loss of contact, but eventually gave in. You held hands with swinging arms and you both laughed as you ran back to your flat. 

[callmewrinkles3]

Long story short - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist.

Summary: Summer break 2023 means a trip back to Perth to see how construction is going on the farm and but especially to spend Em’s birthday with family.

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive family dynamics, mentions of sex, past pregnancy loss.

Words: 6k

A/N: Hey hey! We know you’ve missed oneshots so here’s Em’s birthday for you to enjoy. We may have cried multiple times writing this, just very normal. It was pretty great lol. Hope you enjoy it and let us know what you think! All our love, Alex and Cíara.💜

August 2023

The summer break every year - with the exception of 2018 and 2020 - had involved being in the States. It was usually LA and sun for a few days, or a week somewhere in the mountains for Dan to do altitude training to prepare for races like Brazil and Mexico. But that summer things were different. With the farm construction happening fast thanks to the baby’s due date coming so soon, and Blake and Charlie being adorable, the three of them were flying back home to spend the full two weeks of the shutdown in the Australian winter. It was still milder than a European one, Em giggling as the boys changed into thick hoodies before ending the journey that had started in Italy.

Dan wanted to take full advantage of the time off, conspiring with Charlie to plan Em’s thirty third birthday. She knew it was happening and just let him plan it. Even with her dislike of parties she knew Dan wouldn’t go too overboard, so she just laughed and told him to do what he wanted. Having it surrounded by people felt strange. The year before had been just the two of them in their little bubble, and before that it had always been with Dan. She hadn’t had her parents involved since she was ten and had her final birthday party before secondary school. Because she was a summer baby her parents had acted like she didn’t need a party. The kids in school wouldn’t realise there was no party to be invited to.

She insisted it wasn’t necessary to organise anything but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Dan wanted his pregnant wife to be as happy as she could be before the chaos of the last half of the season happened so it was a full thirteen days surrounded by their people before the flight back to Faenza.

Em had to admit that it was a perfect idea. Ever since she’d found out about the pregnancy and told Grace she needed her mother there for all the questions she had. It was a blessing to spend time and to ask the questions she was embarrassed about - even when Michelle butted in and made jokes at her expense. It was there with her family and she felt good. She could call either of them any time that she wanted but it was no substitute for actually being there. She needed the hugs and physical contact that only a mum could give.

What Em had needed the entire time was for the woman who’d promised to love her as her own to wrap her in a cuddle and remind her that everything was going to be fine. That she was going to spend Christmas with her beautiful newborn baby girl. And when Grace said it Em believed it.

They got to spend the two weeks with family and eating good food, being looked after before the world could intervene. That’s what Grace and Joe had always done for Dan and they pulled Em into that world, looking after their kids when they needed it the most.

But the best thing about staying with her in laws and not the building site that was currently their farmhouse was getting to stay in Dan’s childhood bedroom. Grace hadn’t redecorated since he’d left for Italy half his life ago, the old school NASCAR posters on the wall and karting trophies on shelves. The photos of his family and friends were there to surround Dan with reminders of his childhood. Em refused to mention the one of Dan and Michael on their school football team that had disappeared when she was in the shower one morning. She couldn’t ruin their time at home talking about something like that. As far as she was concerned the picture was never there. It was the same way they were all pretending Michael had never been in their lives. Grace and Joe knew better than to ask about him.

That whole situation hurt a little less every day, but it still ached. It was easier when they weren’t in the paddock. The plan was to spend more time in Italy so Dan could be at the factory more where Michael wouldn’t really be. In London and Perth they could avoid his neighbourhood and the places he liked to go. But race weekends it was impossible. They shared the same garage, the same hospitality. They turned left to go into Dan’s driver room at Budapest and Spa and knew that he was the other side of the too flimsy wall having turned right. They could and did run into him at any time. Em wanted to tell him how she was, how the baby was. How his niece was. But Lulu wasn’t going to be his niece. She wasn’t going to even know him. It gutted Em that her brother wasn’t in her life anymore but he’d made his decision and it didn’t hurt as much. But it hurt the most during the parties Dan held in Perth.

The first one was ridiculous and unexpected, held two days after they arrived in Australia. It was part Charlie’s idea and part Dan’s, the decision made between them to celebrate Blake and Em. Neither of them realised that it was happening when they arrived back at the Ricciardos that afternoon. Blake had brought her to take a look at kitchen fittings for the farmhouse, the plan to bring Dan back to look at her top picks before they were put into the rebuilt kitchen. She was getting the kitchen of her dreams and she was taking advantage, copper fittings and marble countertops on the wooden cabinets. There was all the storage she wanted, the plans were ready for her to show Dan and see what he thought. It was their forever home and she couldn’t wait.

She arrived back to Grace and Joe’s to their family there, Charlie’s brother Cal and his boyfriend standing near the back nervously. Blake’s parents had flown out to be there too. Dan stood on a rickety kitchen chair, his hand on Blake’s shoulder to stay steady.

“I’m usually good at saying stuff but this is really hard. The last…the last year or so has been really hard. And there’s two people who could have walked away but didn’t, and this is to make sure they know how loved and appreciated they are. Blake, you’re my brother. You more than anyone else had a reason to yell at me and tell me to get my shit together - sorry Ma.”

“Just this once!” Grace called as Dan collected himself.

“Emmy, you married me and you love me and we’re having a baby and I still don’t know why you decided to stay through everything that was said about you. But you are the best woman I’ve met in my life, and I love you to pieces. You know. But this is just to say thank you to all of you for being there and helping. Cause I wouldn’t be in a seat again without you all.”

It was scattered applause and Em reached for her husband to give him the biggest hug, pulling him tight for a moment as Lulu kicked against him.

“You’re gonna be the best dad, Dan. We love you so much. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The words were completely true, even with everything that had happened. The emotional and physical pain. The embarrassment being turned away from the paddock in Spa the year before thanks to stupid mind games. The hospital visit and the therapy and the near screaming match with her parents. Because they were home with their baby coming soon and in love. It was hard and worth it.

She spent that day swapping between Isaac and Isabella on her knee, Cal and Ryder taking the other child and playing. The last thing she said to Cal before he left was that Ryder was a keeper, watching the younger man blush. He was a sweetheart like the rest of their family.

Blake and Charlie were the last ones to leave, hugs to everyone the order of the day. Finally they left, Em going nearly straight to bed to sleep thanks to missing her usual afternoon nap.

Em told Dan not to make a huge fuss of her birthday, that a relaxing day would be fine. But she knew really that there was no chance her husband or family would let her birthday pass like that. It was the one day where they could shower her with love and affection without her complaints so they took full advantage.

She woke up that morning to Dan covering her in kisses, pulling her in for slow birthday sex that had them both gasping for breath and desperate to keep quiet. Her husband held her even tighter for a few moments before they got up, Dan leading her to the kitchen where Grace and Joe sang Happy Birthday as she came in. There were pancakes and bacon waiting for her with a candle lit on the top of a lavender iced cupcake. She started tearing up immediately, not even attempting to pretend that it was the pregnancy hormones that caused her emotions. It was happy tears. She was happy and loved and that was what she cared about. She and Dan had made it through, and the joy that morning compared to the worry of the previous year was so different.

It felt like a dream compared to the year before, her husband by her side and she was pregnant with their baby. They were getting everything they wanted and life was good. Nobody was taking this from her and she spent her morning curled up against Dan on the couch as he kept whispering how much he loved her, making her grin and kissing her cheeks with each smile.

Nothing had prepared her for the birthday party that Blake, Charlie, and Dan had prepared for her at the Clarke’s farm. Dan led her into the barn where they’d held their wedding, a shout of “SURPRISE” ringing around the room. She loved it so much, lavender decorations everywhere as their families were all there. She started tearing up of happiness again, tears spilling over as Isaac and Isabella came running over to her yelling “happy birthday Auntie Emmy!”.

She honestly didn’t expect gifts from people. Dan had been the first person to give her gifts just because, but there was a table tucked away in the corner with presents for her to open later. It was insane to her how many there were, everyone saying she could open them later. Charlie’s parents hugged her and pulled a chair out to urge her to sit, Em watching as Isaac and Isabella brought over their presents for her.

The first one that Isaac insisted on her opening had Toy Story wrapping paper, and inside was a huge box with everything she could ever want to make friendship bracelets with. They had a tradition to make new ones every time they were in Perth with the kids, weaving thread and beads together to make cute ones. Isaac explained how he wanted new ones, and he wanted them to make new ones for the baby too.

“They’re gonna be teeny tiny cause the baby’s gonna be like Iz’s dolly, but we need them to have lots so they grow!” He explained to Em, clearly happy to have a new cousin to play with.

“You’re so right, Baby. I love it, thank you! You’re gonna come over at the weekend and we can make some before I go back to Europe?”

With a nod and a kiss on his aunt’s cheek Isaac ran back to his uncle Dan, the promise of getting to go look at the cattle on the farm too alluring. Instead his little sister took his spot on Em’s lap, handing over a box wrapped in lavender unicorn paper. Inside it was a bright pink Barbie box. The doll had brunette hair like Em, complete with a travel set. There was a neck pillow, a suitcase that looked like Em’s own one, and everything else Barbie her could need.

“It’s just like you!” Isabella exclaimed as soon as the paper was ripped away and dumped on the other side of the table. It really did nearly look like her.

“Oh my God, I love it.” She kissed her niece’s curly hair, holding on tightly as Isabella pointed out the phone and camera. “Thank you so, so much, Baby girl. I love it so, so much. It’s the best.”

“Can we play tomorrow?” The little girl asked, looking up with big eyes and an angelic face. It was nearly impossible for Em to say no.

“After school, ok? But then we can, promise. And we’ll have some more cake, but don’t tell your Mum and we’ll make sure to save some for her.”

At the start she didn’t ask why a Barbie doll, it came from her niece and that was what she cared about. But while during the party Isabella kept asking about the baby and patting Em’s tummy, she couldn’t stop wondering why. Once Isabella was safely occupied with one of Charlie’s nieces she decided she had to ask, walking over to her sister in law and getting the words out. As soon as Michelle began to speak Em regretted asking.

“We were in the kitchen and she came to tell me and Mum that you come up with the best stories for the Barbies while you play, but you never had one growing up so you didn’t have a favourite Barbie. She thought because you travel so much Travel Barbie would be your favourite. I couldn’t say no, Em. I’m sorry you never had one.”

Em never thought Isabella would remember that single conversation. It was months ago, the week before her wedding. If she’d realised Isabella would think about it she wouldn’t have said it.

Part of the therapy that Mildred was working on with her was giving her that allowance to be a kid. She’d never gotten to be, but Mildred told her to do the things she wanted to. Spend time with her niece and nephew and play with them. She’d made a bundle of friendship bracelets before seeing Taylor Swift as part of it. So when Isabella asked if she wanted to play Barbies Em said yes immediately.

She and Dan were on babysitting duty, the four of them were downstairs playing with Isaac’s cars. Instead of playing he and Dan had fallen asleep thanks to exhaustion and a sugar crash from the final wedding cake tests. The two girls were alone and Isabella pulled Em upstairs before taking out a Barbie carry case and asking Em to do braids in Skipper’s hair.

It was while Em was twisting the slick strands of plastic hair when Isabella asked her about her favourite Barbie as a kid. She couldn’t tell the truth and break her niece’s childhood. The truth was that her parents thought dolls were ridiculous and she was never allowed to have them growing up, that she had puzzles and non fiction books. Even fiction books had to be by certain authors or she couldn’t read them because they wouldn’t “develop her brain”.

The short answer, the easy one, was “Oh, I didn’t have any Barbies.” Followed by asking if Isabella wanted her hair to match Skippers and a child sitting in Em’s lap to get her french braids put in the subject matter was closed. She was convinced that Isabella had forgotten about it. The next topic of conversation was how pretty her flower girl dress for the wedding was and how she looked “like a fairy princess” in it. But she hadn’t.

Her thoughts were pinned on the topic after she spoke to Michelle. Em went mostly through the motions for the rest of the party, hugging her friends and talking to everyone. Chloe and Scotty made a surprise appearance for her, a giant hug and a promise that Em was coming out with Chloe and Charlie in a couple of days for lunch.

The box with the doll stayed in her hand and all she could imagine was a couple of years time when her daughter started playing with it. She couldn’t imagine having a baby, going through pregnancy and labour to not even want the result. To never really want a baby like her parents never wanted her. Even thinking about her baby girl not having the entire world hurt so much it made her want to cry. It was still four months until she’d arrive and Em and Dan would do anything to keep her safe and love her. Her nursery in London was ready to go, the last thing a photo collage Em wanted to make of all the adults who would love Lulu. The only reason her room in Perth wasn’t ready was because of the construction, but the furniture had been delivered and was sitting in an outbuilding. They already had enough to fill the playroom and the nursery even though Lulu would sleep in their room for the first few months. The travel arrangements were ready to go. They even had Lulu’s luggage all set.

Em had never really understood how someone couldn’t love their own child, but as she counted down the days to her due date it was even harder. She knew there was reasons why, she knew some people weren’t pregnant in good situations. But when she was pregnant and married and had tried for a baby? It was irrational to her that you wouldn’t want that child.

But while the birthday party continued she refused to let herself go there. She wouldn’t let herself think about why her parents were the way they were and how much that hurt. And she definitely wasn’t thinking about how the last time she came home from this room her former best friend had left her life in the most unceremonious of ways. That wasn’t raining on her parade, not today. So she walked over, hugged her husband, whispered how much she loved him and how thankful she was for the wonderful day she was having.

“Remember when you weren’t the party kind and I had to drag you anywhere?” Dan joked, kissing her cheek as she smiled.

“I reckon you were the one who dragged me to different ones ever since we met. But you know me, Dimples. I still don’t like big things much but this? This is nice. These are the ones I like.”

Even at 33 she hated when she was the centre of attention and people sang happy birthday to her. She wasn’t sure if anyone actually liked being surrounded by friends singing off key and out of tune, but for the first time it didn’t feel weird. The people who were around her had been supporting her through every single good and bad moment in the last five years. They loved her no matter how broken or weird she felt. They made sure that she knew how loved she was, no matter what. Every single person had wormed their way into her heart when she’d tried to keep people out. So when the singing ended and she took a deep breath to blow out the birthday candles in one breath she had one wish in her mind. To keep every single person in this room in her life forever.

The winter meant the sun was setting early, exhaustion hitting Em hard. She’d needed naps more and more since she’d become pregnant and this was the second time in a week that she hadn’t had one. After her third yawn and as the kids were getting cranky they all decided to head home. It took Dan to make her sit down and not help clear up, Charlie’s parents half shooing them out of the barn warning that the cleaning was sorted, to go home and rest. Joe drove them back, Grace in the front seat as Em rested her head against Dan’s shoulder and half dozed while the other three made conversation in low tones.

Her husband had to shake her to wake her up when they got back to the house, Em stretching as she undid her belt. It was tempting to stay and sleep in the car, but her back was sore enough after a night in a comfy bed. Sitting up in a car would be worse.

Dan didn’t want to wake her when they arrived back at the house, but it was safer for her to get out of the car on her own instead of Dan lifting her out. He helped her up and closed the door behind her.

“Did you have a good day, Kiddo?” Joe asked a half awake Em as they walked back into the house. Dan’s arm was around her waist to help keep her up and stop her from tripping up with tiredness.

“Best birthday of my life. You didn’t need to do it, but thank you for doing it for me.”

“It’s what you deserve, Darling,” Grace insisted. Her mother in law pushed a kiss to her forehead before Dan brought Em up to bed.

Before they made it into their room Dan dragged her into the bathroom, getting Em to sit on the toilet as he took her makeup off fully and helped rub her moisturiser in. She was too tired to do it, almost deciding to just sleep without washing her face. But as delicately as possible Dan wiped it off, using crouching in front of her as an excuse to stroke her cheek and steal kisses from his wife.

Once they were ready to go to bed Dan lifted her off the toilet and across the hallway to deposit her on the bed, Em giggling at his actions. It didn’t take long for him to pull her dress and leggings off, replacing them with clean underwear and one of his old, worn shirts that was soft enough for Em. She laughed as he kept stealing kisses from her as he pulled the shirt over her bump, rubbing gently

“I’m lazy and sleepy but I can still change my clothes on my own, Babe.”

“You know very well that I love undressing you. Even if you actually have to wear something to bed because we’re at home.”

If they were in the apartment or even on the farm they wouldn’t be wearing anything. The skin to skin contact in bed always made Em relax and help her sleep better but considering they were at Dan’s parents they had to be semi decent. Em wore one of his shirts and Dan would at least keep his underwear on. Even when he complained more than once.

“Any excuse to see me naked, right?” Em smiled before kissing his cheek and finally laying down to be able to rest. “C’mon Dimples, your wifey is exhausted. Come to bed.”

She patted the mattress beside her to wait for Dan to crawl into the bed and she could get into his arms. She knew it’d take him longer to fall asleep than her. Every night since she’d gotten that positive pregnancy test he’d started his own little night time ritual of telling the baby a story while kissing and stroking her bump. He wasn’t joking about wanting to be a hands on dad, so since day one he did everything in his power to connect with their baby. It didn’t matter how long was left until she was in his arms, he wanted his daughter to know who her daddy was from day one.

From all the things he did or could do those five or ten minutes as they wound down for bed were some of his favourite of the day. Most nights Em stayed awake listening to what her husband was saying while she read. Other nights like this one she fell asleep easily and left her loves to have their late night chats.

“Before I get in I have one last thing for you.” Dan pulled a colourful Happy Birthday gift bag that was hidden in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. “I know you’re going to say I’ve given you too many gifts, but it’s your birthday and our anniversary so birthaversary rules mean I get to spoil you. If you let me I’d spoil you every day. I’m so lucky to get to love you and be your husband. I couldn’t say this earlier cause I’d start crying, but I just…thanks, Emmy. I couldn’t do any of this without you. And you’ve made me the happiest man in the world. I love you.”

“I love you too, Danny. So much. Marrying you is the best thing I ever did. And this better not be lingerie that won’t fit me anymore.” He laughed at her words and handed over the bag, sitting up beside her in the bed. It was six years of being around Dan, of him getting overexcited and determined to spoil her rotten at all times. She’d jokingly complain about how he got her too much, but he was like that for everyone. She learned to get used to how Dan showed his love with gifts and making life easier for people. This was another one of those occasions so she sat up on the bed with a pillow supporting her back, looking at her husband as he smiled.

“You’re the hottest mama in the world, Baby girl. But no, it’s nothing like that. Just open it, ok?”

The second Em opened the bag and saw the stuffed crocodile inside she started crying. Pregnancy hormones couldn’t be blamed for these tears.

When she was three her parents brought her on a trip to a holiday camp in Wales. She barely remembered any of it apart from a little playground beside the pub there, but it was the kind of place that was where they could take her for a weekend to prove how normal they were. An hour from Liverpool, two nights and enough photos to prove they took their daughter away on holiday.

One of the few things she did remember was how much she loved Captain Croc, the crocodile mascot that wandered around. They’d gotten her a teddy, the first one she remembered having. He was vivid green and yellow, blue dungarees with yellow interlocking Cs and big white eyes. He was her comfort toy, hugging him in her tiny arms and bringing him everywhere until she started primary school.

She thought she remembered the feeling of having a new best friend to play with and make up games. Now she knew it was probably her brain trying to make a memory to help her cope with a messed up childhood.

The one definite memory that Em did have was how thirty years later she watched her husband tear up as he looked at a photo of her tiny self holding Captain Croc. Dan held it together until they made it back to the hotel after they left her parents house with the final box of things she was taking. Once they were in that room he started sobbing because he didn’t understand how nobody was there to hold that little girl and tell her how perfect she was. He sobbed because he knew that it was one of the few really happy moments she had in her early childhood. Not that she realised that it should have been better then.

But above all Dan sobbed because that’s what their baby might have looked like. It was the week after she should have had their first baby. They should have been parents. Imagining how their baby could have been hurt like that by anyone cut him to the core and he sobbed in Em’s arms as she held him and promised that they would do better. They would make sure their baby was so loved. She was used to the casual cruelty of her own parents, the way they used words as weapons. Dan who’d never known anything but support and love didn’t understand it.

This teddy meant more than just a gift from her husband to remind her of a bright spot in her life. It was the reminder of slowly healing wounds that still weren’t fully scabbed over. That photo had opened them up more again, and the teddy reminded her more. The day she told Dan the story he held her as they both sobbed. He’d have done anything to have a little girl who looked just like his Emmy. Anything to see his Emmy holding their mini me baby but life was unfair and cruel. Instead of holding their baby that day they held each other, promising that one day it was going to happen. They were going to get to have their family and be happy, no matter what.

But in the final hours of her birthday, thirty one years after she first held her teddy, Em started sobbing again. She had no idea how Dan had found an exact copy of the Captain Croc she’d loved so much but he did. Hers was too delicate, kept in a box in the apartment in London to be shown to her kids as a memento. But he’d found a brand new one, making child and adult Em sob with happiness.

“I knew that a certain little lady wanted to give you a Barbie because you never had one, so I thought that Barbie could do with having a friend. And in a couple of years when our little lady is able to she’ll want to play with them too.” Dan helped Em pull him out of the bag. It should have been easy but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get him out fully.

The adrenaline and relief flowing through her body made her shake like a leaf in Dan’s arms. Em didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky. She had friends who flew hours to see her for her birthday, a family who loved her enough to make a big deal of her. And the most loving and caring husband in the world. She still didn’t know what she did to deserve it and get it, but she was so thankful for it. It was yet another day where even with everything that had happened, even with the way her parents acted and her family was it was worth it because she had Dan. She’d have done it over and over if this was the result. She was married to the love of her life, she was having their baby, and they were happier than she thought possible.

It took longer than she expected to calm down her sobs, Dan holding onto her tightly. He ran his hand against her back, whispering how much he loved her in between pressing kisses to her face and head. It was whispers of how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how wonderful she was. And most importantly how he knew that their baby loved her already.

“Marrying you a year ago was the best decision of my entire life, you know that, right?” Em whispered, her voice still shaking with sobs. “Y’know, right?”

“I know. We’re still a couple of hours away from exactly a year.” Dan checked his watch, it was ten in Perth, two in London. This time a year ago he was waiting for Em to come back and pick out wedding rings with him before their four pm appointment.

“Happy anniversary, my Love. It was the best idea we ever had.”

Her birthday overshadowed the fact that it was their first wedding anniversary. A year ago they were running around London, Em buying her wedding dress in Marks and Spencer as Dan wore a suit she loved him in. The two of them standing in the registry office in Kensington and promising to love each other, desperate to keep the other happy and get through the next few months together.

It was hard to believe that 365 days had passed since she finally became Mrs Ricciardo. She loved it. She’d loved being his wife every single day, even the horrible ones. It was a year where she’d woken up at her husband’s side every single morning and she could never take it for granted.

“Happy anniversary, Baby girl. You and our little one here are the greatest things that ever happened to me,” Dan whispered as he pulled her up, close enough to finally give Em a kiss while he rubbed her bump.

“Happy anniversary, Danny. Here, for you.” Em reached across and pulled the wrapped package out from under the bed. She’d been wracking her brain about what to get him, but in the end it was an easy decision. Dan opened it quickly, Em watching as he realised what it was.

Traditionally the first anniversary was paper, and she found someone on Etsy who made star charts of the night sky on important dates. It was the sky above London the night they met, Monaco the first night they spent together, Spa when they said they loved each other for the first time, and London when they’d got married. The poster was their important moments highlighted and she saw the grin spread across his face.

“You are amazing. Thank you. This is…it’s everything.” He put it to the side as he pulled her in, holding her as she began to lull to sleep.

“You know what’s crazy? Next year we’re gonna be celebrating our birthdays and anniversaries with her.”

“That’s all I want. The three of us snuggled up together doing nothing all day.”

Em couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it would be to wake up with their baby and her husband right there. No plans needed except spending the day with the loves of her life. She didn’t want anything else and it felt greedy to even consider asking to get anything else. She got to marry her Dan and love him openly, and their baby was strong and healthy and growing. It was more than she could have imagined.

“We’ll cuddle and eat cake. She better like lemon drizzle. I mean I’ll settle for chocolate fudge if I have to.”

“She might not. I mean I’ve been eating it so much she might hate it. Or she’ll be obsessed.”

“Lulu’s half you, Emmy. She’s obsessed already I think.” Em laughed at his tone, curling into Dan.

“Can I sleep like this?” She asked, hiding her face against Dan’s chest. She felt ridiculous holding Captain Croc in her arms as she could feel sleep hitting her while her husband was holding her tightly. But she felt just as defenceless as the little girl in the photos. The big difference between the Em of thirty years ago was that now there were people who looked after her and hugged her on the bad days. Who made sure she was eating and cared for. She’d never had someone love her unconditionally like that until Dan was in her life.

“Anything you want, birthday girl.”

Em’s wishes were Dan’s commands, so she fell asleep in her husband’s arms, head on his chest as her teddy was between them with Dan’s low whispers to their baby echoing in her ears. It might be immature, a grown woman and soon to be mother getting that comfort, but she wanted and needed it. The rest didn’t matter. She and Dan were happy and that was what was important.

—

Taglist: (Let us know if you wanna be added!)

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

[potionroulette]

📌 POTION ROULETTE ✧

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All about the comic and characters ‼️

This story takes place in the end of the 19th century. Webbigail gets crowned as the queen. Her sister, Dori is jealous of the position and with her right hand woman called Skylar and manipulated helper, Dylan, who's also Izaacs husband, they start a persuasive gang to take Webbigail down. Chilli and Oliver need to stop this and bring Dylan back, while Izaac and Millie need to uncover the mysteries of Dori. In the end, it will end peacefully, but nobody knows who the ruler will be.

📍#comicpage for comic pages

📍 #ask for asks

📍#potion roulette webcomic for anything related to PR!

📍#textpost for textposts

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Protagonists:

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Oliver Sallow:

Name: Oliver July Sallow

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Species: Border Collie

Job: Farmer

Partner: Chilli

Voice Claim: Jack Kline from Supernatural

Theme: Alien Blues - Vundabar, Johnny - American Murder Song

Oliver was born in Clovelly, and lived there for most of his life. After his mother broke up with his dad and moved out, his dad decided for them and his brother to move to London for a while. When they decided to move back to Clovelly, Oliver stayed, now 16 with the excuse that he’d be better by himself. That wasn’t true though, as the only reason he stayed is Chilli. They grew up together and when the new queen was elected, everything changed. In general what you have to know about him is that he’s EXTREMELY happy go lucky, but gets sick extremely easily so his trips to the doctor are monthly (mostly because he refuses to eat other fruit other than lotus). His voice is melodical and fun to listen to, and he usually wears his cape, but sometimes doesn’t. His favorite color is green and blue cause he wants to do anything to be matching with Chilli.

Chilli Frensby:

Name: Chinyere "Chilli" Frensby

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Species: Labrador

Job: Unemployed (Later opens a restaurant)

Partner: Oliver

Voice Claim: Antes De Las Tres - Un Fantasma

Theme: Same as above. + Little Dark Age - TGMT + Blah Blah Blah - The Oozes

Chilli had an immensely difficult childhood. His parents were thieves and we're hung for their crimes when he was 4. He lived with his beloved grandma in a poor condition and one day lost her. A few days later he met Oliver, who he ended up connecting to more than anyone. Chilli is the bright logical mind of the group and sadly the one who understands everything. In addition, he has a very monotone voice which only shows emotion when he's scared or surprised. He always carries the compass that tracks down Dorothy with him. One thing you need to know about Chilli is that he never ever forgets difficult times.

Millie Tuffin:

Name: Millie Tuffin

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Species: Cocker Spaniel

Job: Babysitter

Partner: None

Voice Claim - Jerry from Soul

Theme: Bella Belle - The Electoswing Circus + The Angry River - The Hat

Millie lived in a poor condition as a kid since her family didn't have much money but she succeeded in life and visits her family regurarly. She loves looking for her significant other and when people do tell her about a person she always gets nervous and turns them down. For now she's a babysitter, mostly babysitting Izaac and Dylan's kid, Jason. She met Izaac when shed temporarily work at an office a few years prior. Now, she follows the gang in their little aloof adventures to uncover the mystery that surrounds the Queenies.

Izaac Clampitt:

Name: Izaac Clampitt

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Species: German Shepherd

Job: Office Worker

Partner: Dylan (Broke up for a day or two until the incident.)

Voice Claim: And When I Die - The Heavy (a little more low pitched)

Theme: Same as above. + Poor Isaac - The Airborne Toxic Event

Izaac has always been a calm individual, but due to his anxiety of losing close people due to him losing his sister at a young age, he and Dylan's break up hit harder than anticipated especially since they have a son. He is a sucker for the color purple and loves bubble baths with Dylan. When he and Dylan got together again, he was filled with hope for the future, nothing will go wrong when they're together. He has a straightforward voice and always gets the point across no matter what. When he cries he breaks hearts due to him being so fragile when he loses people despite his muscularity.

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Antagonists:

Dylan Bluebell:

Name: Dylan Poppy Bluebell

Age: 30

Gender: Trans Male

Species: Australian Shepherd

Job: Florist

Voice Claim: Pineapple Soda - Hi, I'm Chris

Theme: Same as above. + Yeah Yeah Yeah (V2) - Jack Conte

Although he was an antagonist for a small period of time, Dylan was abused for 3 years by his ex and when he met Izaac his life changed. He has an obsession with snow and ice and loves pretty shades of blue. He painted the spirals on his, Oliver and Chilli's clothes himself. He is easily manipulated and when he and Izaac got back together he promised he'd never leave. He has a soft, shy voice and stammers easily when he's nervous. Dylan usually flicks his ears when he is excited.

Skylar Husker:

Name: Skylar Husker (Real Lastname is: Ashworth)

Age: 30

Gender: Female

Species: Husky

Job: Bookshop Keeper (Works for Dorothy on the side.)

Voice Claim: Ellen Harvelle from Supernatural

Theme: Ghosting - Mother Mother, Let Down - Radiohead

Skylar always had a hatred for the world and how unfair it is since she was young. After her best friend went to war and never came back (American Civil War) she decided to do anything in her power to ruin the world. When she met Dorothy, she knew exactly what to do. She and Dori were inseparable, and had a few one-of flings together, but never actually ended up feeling like that. She is a master of manipulation, and she changes her voice accordingly to the person she is controlling.

Webbigail Queenie:

Name: Webbigail "Webby (ONLY BY MURIEL)" Queenie

Age: 40

Species: Samoyed

Gender: Female

Job: Queen

Voice Claim: Lindsey Perez from Saw

Theme: John The Revelator - Depeche Mode + Run Rabbit Run - The Hoosiers

Webbigail never wanted to be queen, she hoped her sister would but her father's request haunted her life. She is terrible as a queen and does her best to always keep everything under control but she's unable to. She has a husband, unofficially since they decided to keep the relationship a secret, Muriel and a son, Charlie, who she sees only on weekends. She and her sister never had rivalries but she knows her life won't end well. She has a melancholical voice and always droopy tail and eyes.

Dorothy Queenie:

Name: Dorothy "Dori" Queenie

Age: 34

Species: Miniature Pinscher

Gender: Demigirl

Job: Unemployed (Terrorist kinda)

Dorothy was always cheerful and full of joy. When she realized her sister became Queen instead her ego took over her and she now hunts down people who support her and kills them with her two helpers. She doesn't trust Dylan, however she's fully aware of Skylars capabilities and they're partners in crime. Her last target is her sister, and she knows how to destroy her, let's just say she knows how to mix plants a lot...

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Side/Minor Characters:

Jason C.B:

Name: Jason Clampitt Bluebell

Age: 8 (10 when Libby and Lola are born, 14 when they're 4)

Gender: Male

Species: Bull Terrier (Izaacs grandad was a bull terrier)

Job: Child.

Voice Claim: Mackenzie from Bluey

Theme Song: Present Tense - Radiohead

This critter hasn't appeared many times in the comic however he is an absolutely feral child and chews on chairs and jumps on beds. He loves playtime and waking up people in their sleep to see their reaction, however he is always protective of his loved ones.

Libby C.B and Lola C.B:

Name (s): Libby Clampitt Bluebell and Lola Clampitt Bluebell

Age(s): 4, 4 (after the story ends)

Gender(s): Intersex Male, Female

Species: German and Australian shepherd mixes

Job: None, Children.

Voice Claim(s): Libby: Jean Luc from Bluey in the french dub, Lola: Little Ivy from Lackadaisy

Theme Song: Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

The two little inseperable siblings. They don't appear in the current story, however they will appear in mini comics and in a time skip in the end! Lola is a smart daring and adventurous naive child whilst Libby is shy and introverted but still follows his sister in her shenanigans.

Muriel Melville:

Name: Muriel Melville

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Species: Shetland Sheepdog

Job: Office Worker

Voice Claim: Sherlock Holmes from the Sherlock Holmes Movie 2009 (Robert Downey Jr.)

Theme Song: Too Close - Sir Chloe

I don't remember him appearing...

(I won't be adding June and April here! (Olivers Dad and Brother) Or Any other relatives my apologies)

Credit to @peteytheparrot for textpost inspiration

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E04 - La Dame de Fer

without a doubt the weakest ep of the season, it stars with Daryl having some sort of premonition dream, in which he sees Laurent surrounded by walkers passing right by him without even noticing he's there. all this supporting my theory the Nest people want to turn the kid into a walker so he can rise again as the new Messiah.

(exactly how i feel after the work week i just had!)

anyways more thoughts and ramblings after the jump...

Daryl strolling through Paris, listening to music, seeing old couple sharing precious time together while people watching through windows gives me the frenchest vibes ever. unfortunately, he cannot read a map to save his life.

i don't hate Genet, and i can even understand her pragmatism. i feel this will turn into a religion vs. science debate, in which both sides want to use to boy to "cure" humanity.

i will never ever forgive this show for killing Antoine the pigeon dude, who was legit one of the most likable characters in all of twdu with only a couple of mins of screentime. his dying wish was to free his pigeons. "The birds. Free. Let them free. The pigeons." - here we go, if he was the one making an analogy between Caryl and the pigeons always returning home to the one who waits for them in the last ep, this also seems an omen for caryl being set free of their responsibilities, trauma and guilt so they can finally fly freely together. and if so, then it's kinda poetic.

Daryl is usually a fighter not a hugger, but we need to care about his bonds with this random people, so Isa hugs him. how fun would it be if you were not left to wonder what will happen next. Daryl cares about people, it's just who he is. and guess what? he already knows where Laurent run off to.

"Paris kinda sucks." Daryl, YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT! but it makes up for it in beautiful cinematography.

oh look, now Isa knows how to kill walkers! poorly, but at least she ain't just acting like a deer in headlights.

the dude they take hostage is slut shaming the heck out of Isa, and Daryl be like *shrug* je ne comprends pas, bitch, but let me tell you a story about little Jimmy being forced to kill his piglet one day. the most random Christmas tale ever told, but despite Daryl saying he made up the whole story, i can't help but think it's his story. and that is heartbreaking!

ironically, Daryl who was wholly against torturing a whisperer back in s10, is now full on let's fuck this guy up for info right in front of a nun! of course, i can't help but think it makes total sense cause at the time, he was really just trying to protect Carol from that kind of violence when she was already on edge.

Isa needs to tell Daryl something, he be like NAH, i'm busy, i got a kid, your kid, to save, please schedule an appointment.

Sylvie is finding love for the first time ever, and she's wondering if Isa is harboring any romantic feelings for Daryl. he's the one, the messenger to deliver Laurent, so he is a means to an end. she already loved and lost a lot before the apocalypse. which probably means she is totally getting the feels for Daryl, she just doesn't know he's taken already. just wait till you meet his formidable wife!

Daryl learned some French already. he grunts "bon appétit," as he leaves piglet!dude to be eaten by walkers. SAVAGE!

Daryl fights Quinn, but let's him live cause he's Daryl - he wouldn't kill the kid's father right in front of him.

we have come full circle. Daryl returning a lost kid to his "mother" (*whisper yells* Sophia), and watches her make the ultimate sacrifice by going back to Quinn so she can give the kid a chance to leave the city. not before, she sorts of totally guilt trips him into taking Laurent to the nest. obviously, for some reason, Daryl is the only dude in the whole of France capable of taking the kid there. *rolls eyes loudly* remember, there's reasons everywhere. the universe keeps working to keep Daryl there, so Carol can find him (and together they will save Laurent - that's my theory!).

and it finally ends with Daryl looking at some Paris landmarks, and giving the most longing look at Lady Liberty. he is homesick!

see y'all next week for ep 5!!! it's gonna get interesting!

35 days left until the premiere of THE BOOK OF CAROL!!!!!

[garbinge]

Opening Up (3)

Angel Reyes x OC Isabeth ‘Izzy’ Flores 30 Day Fic Challenge (20/30)

Word Count: 3.2k A/N: Sorry I missed uploading two days! I've been in a bit of a mental rut and just haven't opened my laptop but back at it with the rest of these 30 day fics :)

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst. Trauma. Bad Thoughts. Series Finale Spoilers. Mentions of blood, violence, abuse, assault, murder. Arguments. Heavy topics discussed.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @kmc1989 Continuation from Wanderlust (1) and Library Day Care (2)

Despite the summer months being well and over, the sun hadn’t really gotten that memo. The coastal heat in La Paz was still just as brutal in October as it was in June. Angel spent most of his day outside in that heat, but he didn’t mind the slightest. This job brought him everything he needed. Besides the paycheck, the job gave him a place to live on premise. A modest two bedroom cottage that although could have been toured in less than a minute due to it’s size, was exactly what the two Reyes boys needed. Maverick wasn’t exactly in the market for a huge room being only 2 and with the extra cash Angel was bringing in and using to spoil his young son, it would have soothed the desire anyways. It was much better than the house he had been renting before, and now he only paid a fraction of that, only having to shell out for the utilities, not the space itself. The location of the ranch overall felt like he was in his own planet, so far away from the world he used to be in. It was peaceful, it was beautiful, it was honestly everything he could ask for, but it didn’t stop the memories from sneaking their way in. As he’d work in the field, throwing seeds or harvesting things, his mind would suddenly start to sneak away from the task at hand. At first it’d be peaceful, thinking of Maverick, how his day at the library was going, how big he’d been getting. Then it’d move to dinner, what he planned to make or pick up, then it’d quickly go from there to the kitchen in his childhood home, where he’d remember his mother cooking for them, talking to them about the steps she’d take to make the perfect meal, he’d see himself, as a kid, at that kitchen table watching his mother intently, then see his brother, not far off from Maverick’s age on the seat across from him. It’d be almost instantly where the scene of stabbing the knife into his gut flashed in his mind, which would follow by the gurney with his father being brought out, and his mother on the floor of the carniceria. He’d try and shake the thought, bring himself back to the nature surrounding him and his list of tasks. When it’d be time to move onto the livestock pastures, or repairs, he’d be relieved. Those two tasks tended to keep his mind off his thoughts, it’s why he’d always jump at the mention of them.

As he’d head down to his truck to drop Maverick off at daycare, he’d always stop into the main office to get his list first. The de Valle family had welcomed the Reyes boys with open arms. The matriarch of the family, Paulina, always mentioned how her and her mother would gladly watch the boy if ever needed while Senor de Valle himself even mentioned bringing him to the few school field trips that would come to see the farm. They’d often ask him down to dinner on the weekends, and sometimes he’d oblige and join the family and other farm employees. 

Currently he should have been picking up today’s list and making his way down to his truck with Maverick to drop him off at daycare but, today was a little different. Angel had already woken up early to get started on a few things that were always better to get done before the sun was up. With Maverick asleep, and a baby monitor on full blast at his hip, doing the work in the few fields in his backyard was his way of getting a jump start on his day. Until the thoughts got the best of him and time became nonexistent. Angel stood practically frozen as he remembered the blood all over the floor, it became like a wallpaper in his brain, EZ’s voice echoed in his head. “Tell your boy about me. Tell him about mom.” It was then that the bloodied wallpaper in his head turned to a different one, one with more memories tied to of him as a boy. The shop, where he practically grew up, ruined by one instance. He couldn’t help but to worry that what his mind was, ruined by the instances that he could blame no one but himself for. Selfish worry quickly turned outwards as he thought about his own kin, how would he grow up, would he be ruined by the memories of his past, the memories his father gives him? It was then that the crying from the baby monitor pulled Angel back to the weeding he was currently doing. As he came more to it, he saw the sun rather high and it was at that moment, he realized, he was late. 

Quickly he ran back to his cottage, mere feet away and went to the bedroom where Maverick had woken up rather crankily. “It’s okay, shh, it’s okay, daddy’s here.” Angel quickly bounced the boy up and down in his arms before moving to get him changed and ready for the day. His eyes constantly glanced at the clock now as the minutes passed and the later he became. 

His normal entrance into the library of holding Maverick’s hands and lifting him a couple inches off the ground was not possible in this moment, he replaced it with a quick pace so he could get to the children’s section quicker. 

“You’re late.” A familiar voice spoke up without even looking at Angel. Izzy was heads down into some paperwork at the children’s circulation desk, the sign in sheet still sitting on the counter but looking almost full. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I got–” Angel stopped as he realized what prevented him from being on time. “I lost track of time.” He moved Maverick to one arm as he quickly put his information on the sign up sheet. 

“You know, I pass the ranch on my way into work. We could pick Maverick up for you. Even drop him off.” She still wasn’t looking at him, her focus was on the stuff in front of her as she moved a few stacks of papers around and continued writing things down. 

“I couldn’t ask that.” He shook his head, adjusting Maverick in his grip. 

She smiled at that, “Good thing you didn’t ask.” 

“Izzy.” He said as his head fell to the side begging for her to be serious for a moment. 

That made her look up and almost widen her eyes as she took in the sight of him. He had dirt everywhere, his shirt, his face, his arms, and his eyes looked tired and tormented all at once. 

It was instinctual to ask immediately if he was okay or what happened, but she bit her tongue and just stepped out from behind the desk to take the young boy into her arms. 

“I live in La Huerta, right of 286. I pass El Ranchitos everyday, it’d be no issue to add 5 minutes to my commute to pick Maverick up and drop him off.” Her voice was sincere but serious too. 

Angel clearly didn’t know what to say, so Izzy just kept talking. “Look, you don’t have to make the decision right now, I’ll bring him home tonight and you can let me know then. I’m happy to do it.” 

Angel just nodded, still stuck in whatever frozen state his body was in but just when Izzy was about to ask him if he was okay to drive he was quickly planting a kiss to Maverick’s head and moving right back the way he came in. 

____

Izzy pulled up to the ranch to see Angel waiting at the entrance, leaning on his truck. He pointed to where she should park and jogged over to her driver’s door and opened it for her. 

“What service they have here at El Ranchitos.” She joked as she stepped out of the two decade old Xterra. 

“It’s what they hired me for, welcoming service.” Angel joked back and looked over the car. “Nice ride.” 

“Thanks, it was my dad’s.” She hung off the door frame of the car as she looked at it. “Been through a lot but I keep her as up to date on repairs as I can.” 

Angel peaked in through the open door to see both kids in the backseat and waved. Maverick kicked his feet and giggled, waving back quickly at his dad and then pointing to the girl next to him and saying her name a few times. “Abrielle, Abrielle, Abrielle!” 

Angel let out a chuckle. “You guys have time for a quick tour of the farm?” He turned to ask Izzy. 

“Yea, don’t see why not.” She shrugged and closed the door before opening the back seats to get the kids out. 

“You can let ‘em roam. Maverick kind of knows where to and where not to go, Abrielle will stick close to him anyways.” He said as they began the trek up the dirt road. 

Angel showed them the livestock barns, the open grazing fields, showing the kids horses, goats, and cows. He let them sneak into the garden, and made each one of them promise to not say anything because Senora De Valle took her greenhouse very seriously. And after that, he picked a couple strawberries for the kids as well as Izzy. They ended their tour at the general store, which was closed but Angel had a key. 

“Figured, you could grab whatever you wanted for dinner.” Angel lifted his hands up and pointed around the store. “My treat, as a thank you for today.” 

“I thought that’s what the tour was for.” Izzy was already looking around at what she wanted to grab for dinner for her and her daughter. 

Angel just laughed and shook his head, grabbing his own food and then placing a hundred dollar bill near the cash register, which Tatiana, the store manager would have known was Angel’s doing. 

“We can eat up at my place, it’s a two minute walk from here.” Angel pointed up the hill.

Izzy nodded, giving her young daughter a piece of food to hold and eat as she trekked up the hill. 

“Holy shit.” Izzy mumbled under breath as she reached the top of the hill to see Angel’s small cottage, more open fields, and the most beautiful sky as the sun began to set. 

“Ain’t bad, right?” Angel laughed before nodding his head so the woman would follow into the home. 

It wasn’t long until the kids were passed out on the couch, the remnants of their different dinners all over the bar counter where Izzy was currently sitting sipping the last of her soda while Angel leaned up against the back counter of his kitchen, the fridge directly to his right, and the living further out to his right. 

“You want a drink?” Angel used his foot to kick open the fridge, and leaned forward slightly to look in at what he had. “Have beer, wine, water…” He began to name off. 

“Cerveza, por favor.” She spoke so fluently it took Angel by surprise hearing it, he was so used to talking to her in English. 

He grabbed one for himself and pointed to the sliding door connected to the living room. “Sit outside?” He asked, already walking over. 

Izzy followed him, still in awe of the view he had here. 

“It’s pretty amazing isn’t it?” He plopped down on one of the lawn chairs that sat on the small patio deck. “Hard to believe this is my life sometimes.” 

“I get that feeling.” Izzy was nodding as she slowly moved down to sit in the chair and looked out across the field. 

“I’m sorry about this morning.” Angel brought the beer just shy of his lips before he apologized and then quickly brought it to his mouth right after to stop any other words from coming out. 

“You think anymore about my offer?” As hard as it was to not look at how beautiful the sky was, Izzy pried her eyes away to look at Angel. 

“Feel like all I ever do is think.” Unlike her, Angel couldn’t look over at her, his eyes were still looking out at the field, the very field where everything started this morning. 

“Well maybe you should turn that thinking into talking.” Izzy had a bit of an attitude in her voice, not a harsh one, but more of an obvious one. 

This got Angel’s attention. His head snapped to look at her, a confused frown filling his face, clearly picking up on the tone. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s not good to keep it bottled in. The thoughts. You gotta get them out.” She shrugged, casually bringing her legs up to sit criss crossed in the adirondack chair. 

“And you?” Angel matched the tone she had earlier. “Who do you talk to?” 

“God–sometimes.” She tossed her head back and forth and smiled “Myself.” She nodded so confidently. “I journal.” At those last two words she had pointed her hand with the beer in it like it was a forgotten thought. 

“You tellin’ me I should journal?” His eyebrows were furrowed but also raised. 

“I’m tellin’ you,” she mocked his language before returning to her own, “that you need to do something. Keeping it inside is going to kill you.” 

Angel laughed at that. The idea that now, where he was at in life, his thoughts would be the thing to kill him. Not an enemy, not his club, not the cartel, but his own fucking thoughts. 

“You suggestin’ I talk to you?” His voice had humor in it, it was deflection and Izzy knew it which is why she didn’t give in to it. 

“Doesn’t seem like you have many other options.” She turned her head to sarcastically look around. 

Angel smirked again, deflection still coursing through everything in him. “But you talked to yourself, or God.” He was leaning forward now, his hands resting on his knees, almost as if he was antagonizing the girl. “Oh and your journal.” He pointed to her copying exactly what she did earlier. 

Izzy stood up, finishing the beer in a huge chug before turning around and staring Angel down directly in his eyes. “I did that shit because when I came here, I had no one. It was me and my newborn. So yea, Angel, I made due with what I had.” She broke her eye contact and went back inside, tossing the empty bottle in the recycle bin and moving to grab her daughter from the couch. 

“We’re gonna head home.” She stepped back out onto the patio, her bag on one shoulder, and an asleep child on the other. 

Angel realized he fucked up the minute she was getting up. His head was starting to hurt between the thoughts and what just occurred. And now the headache was filled with regret and stress. 

“Give me a minute, let me just put him in his crib and I’ll walk you to your car.” Angel didn’t let the woman answer, just stepped inside and quickly moved Maverick to his bedroom before meeting Izzy back outside. 

The walk down to the car was silent, only the sounds of the birds and bugs as the night started to settle around them along with the crunches of the dirt below them. As they approached her silver SUV, the sounds escalated to car doors opening and the clicks and snaps of car seats and seatbelts. 

“Hey, look. I’m sorry.” Angel spoke up when Izzy was turning back around from strapping Abrielle in and lightly closing the car door. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Refusing to make eye contact she moved from the back seat to the driver’s door. 

Angel grabbed the door as she opened it, hoping his hand resting on the frame would get her to stop for a minute and look at him. “It’s just hard. I come from a place of not being able to trust anyone, trusting the wrong people, and just keeping a lot internal so it’s just tough for me.” 

Izzy turned around now, her body was inches away from Angel, the tension growing immensely as she stared up into his eyes, trying to fully grasp what he meant and was saying.

“My father was killed by a cartel hit squad, the person that killed him was looking for me, because I was pregnant with his child and planning to run away.” 

It was a sentence that lacked any detail at all, it was simply fact and really only said to make a point. Angel was lost for words, he could tell Izzy had a past, but he hadn’t expected it to be that dark. 

“So when I say I get it, Angel, I get it.” 

It was then Angel realized that she already knew, she knew where Angel came from without him having to say a word. She might not have known the names and the logistics but she could pick out the similarities between them easily.

“I was in an MC–motorcycle club, we had a deal with a cartel–worked for them, it ended bad. Lost my family, everyone except Maverick.” Angel offered up his story, similar to Izzy’s lacking all the detail but just something so she knew he was open to talking to her. 

The silence felt heavy and very apparent to Angel after he spoke up. His thoughts racing a mile a minute, was this the wrong decision, should he not have said anything. But then Izzy cut through that tension. 

“Looks like we have a lot in common.” Her face was still stiff, it was a side of the girl he hadn’t seen but he realized it was likely a part of her that was entirely who she was for a while based on what she told him. 

“If you’re up for it still, I’d love to take you up on what you said, picking Maverick up and dropping him off?” 

“Depends.” Her looked hardened even more. “Are you done?” Angel wasn’t sure what she was asking and apparently his face said that for him because she spoke up again. “Is that part of your life done, Angel? The MC, the cartel?” 

He felt sick thinking about it, all the death, the blood, the loose ends tied up. “It is.” 

“I can’t get involved in that again.” Her face had loosened up from his answer, but she still wanted to make her point clear. 

He nodded and then frowned. “Involved?” 

That’s when a small smirk flashed across her face for a moment when she looked down at the ground but then straightened out when she looked back up at him. “Yea my offer depends on if you plan to actually treat me to a proper dinner on your back patio.”  Angel’s eyebrows raised, a little in shock and the corner of his mouth turned up as he nodded.

“Yea, yea I think we can arrange that.”

[sleepiexx]

Love is a Battlefield (and I’m Nothing if Not a Soldier)

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to pt.2

Note: I pushed graves betrayal back just a lil bit for story purposes.

Summary: (Y/N) struggles when faced with a tough situation surrounding her girlfriend or alternatively Graves postpones his betrayal plans so my fave sapphics can have a moment

Warnings: bullet grazes reader, very very very slight mention homophobia (just the fear of it in like one sentence, no one’s homophobic in the fic), lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 2337

(Y/N)’s thoughts ran rampant throughout the entire mission as they went from ship to ship in a harsh storm to stop Hassan’s missiles. That in itself was stressful but what took the president in her brain was something more deep and conflicting.

The mission before, she’d worked with Soap, Ghost, Graves, and Alejandro to take down Las Almas most wanted: El Sin Nombre. She hadn’t expected the mission to be easy, she never did. There is no such thing as an “easy” mission, not with the military, and certainly not with 141. What truly came as a shock to her was that the main person she and the team had been after since Gaz and Price went to Amsterdam and found out that the cartel had been involved in the transport of these missiles, had been her own girlfriend all along.

Scrutinizing glare met conflicted gaze as Soap tightened handcuffs on Valeria’s wrists. (Y/N) was silent the entire time, clutching her rifle tightly on the roof and not letting go even as they made it back to Los Vaqueros’ base and into a storage crate for interrogation. Alejandro was glowering, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who previously knew Valeria. She let him and the others take the lead in the interrogation. His arguing with Valeria was drowned out in (Y/N)’s head. Valeria didn’t much care what Alejandro had to say either, her eyes gravitating towards the girl just behind him.

Valeria truly hadn’t foreseen this. While neither knew it, the two of them had a similar situation in their relationship. Neither knew the other’s occupation because neither of them wanted the other to ask about their own jobs. Valeria hadn’t seen that as a problem, she figured that it was uncharacteristic for (Y/N) to work a job like the military and that she likely worked somewhere more fitting, like with puppies or flowers. More realistically, somewhere where she always had to go on work trips like she’d claimed.

Finding out (Y/N) was military shocked Valeria almost as much as it shocked (Y/N) that Valeria was cartel. (Y/N) cried over kid’s movies, she was sensitive, a trait Valeria loved. It made absolutely no sense; how could the soft, kind woman she knew live such a harsh lifestyle?

As Alejandro droned on and on about betrayal and the son of La Araña, Valeria desperately tried to get a read on (Y/N). Were it anyone else, Valeria would know then and there that things were over. But it wasn’t just anyone, it was (Y/N), her (Y/N). (Y/N)’s emotions were usually written all over her face, an open book that Valeria knew very well. Yet now, Valeria faltered to interpret her feelings.

It wasn’t over, it couldn’t be. The life they’d built together was too much to just drop everything, wasn’t it? Still, the one thing Valeria could not mistake was the sad look in (Y/N)’s eyes, nor could (Y/N) shake Valeria’s cold stare, even hours later, far out at sea, deep into their next objective.

“Romeo,” not even the screaming of her call sign pulled her out of her daze.

A sharp pain bit at (Y/N)’s bicep, “Goddamn it Romeo! Now is not the time to be spacing out!” Ghost called out over comms. “Are you hurt?”

(Y/N) looked at the small gash on her arm that stung as rain water poured over it. It hadn’t looked that bad so she repositioned herself back into a fighting stance before speaking into the comms. “No… no I’m fine. I’m sorry Lieutenant.”

“We’re talking about this after the mission.”

“Affirm.”

Pull yourself together (Y/N). She thought, shaking her head in attempts to shake away thoughts of Valeria. It wouldn’t work but she at least shifted her focus toward the mission at hand, working more diligently than before to take down enemies and protect her teammates.

By the end, it had been a success. The missile blew up in a safe area, everyone was fine. They’d saved the world, yet again. But it didn’t feel like a win to (Y/N). As the adrenaline of the fight wore off in the afterglow of victory, no longer any distraction from her thoughts, (Y/N) was left with only the bits and pieces of her relationship to dwell over.

When they’d made it back to the compound, her body moved on autopilot, pulling tac gear off. She only stilled when Ghost pulled her aside into another room. She’d almost completely forgotten about him wanting to talk,

Ghost huffed, a glare on his deep brown eyes. All she could think was how it wasn’t the first time that day that dark eyes she held in high regards had glared at her, “What was that out there?”

“Nothing, sir. Just distracted is all.” Her voice was meek and wavering, completely unlike her, Ghost had noted.

“(Y/N), you are one of the best soldiers I know. Your track record is sparkling. In all of the time I’ve worked with you, you’ve been nothing but focused and on task. I will not let you chalk this up to a simple distraction because that isn’t like you, what’s wrong?”

They were stuck in a staring contest that (Y/N) knew she couldn’t win, at least not in her current state. Her eyes traveled to the floor hoping to avoid Ghost’s piercing gaze.

“I- uhm, I’m having some uh… relationship issues.” (Y/N) sighed, “I’m sorry sir, it shouldn’t have interfered with the mission. It won’t happen again.”

Ghost’s eyes softened, he had always carried a small hint of favoritism toward (Y/N), but never enough to get involved in her personal life. She left him alone and got things done in a timely manner, just how he liked it. Not only that but her presence was comforting, like a little sister, but he wasn’t the type to let himself get close. He hadn’t even known (Y/N) was in a relationship up until then but in that moment he felt a responsibility towards her not as his subordinate, but as his friend.

He thought very hard about what Price would do in this situation. The older man had always been good with stuff like this, he was like a father figure to the 141 with his unending wisdom.

Ghost’s mind drew a blank, so he figured he’d be better at listening than at trying to give advice, especially without knowing what the situation was.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

(Y/N)‘s eyes shifted off the floor and slowly met Ghost’s. “I- I really love her Lieutenant, I don’t want it to be over.”

(Y/N) froze at her own words. She hadn’t come out to the team yet, she didn’t see a point, and deep down some little part of her was worried they’d judge, or see her differently. She winced, waiting for Ghost’s next words.

He placed a steady hand on her shoulder, “If you love her, then fight for her. You’re a catch (L/N), you can make it work with her.”

(Y/N) nodded solemnly, mind buzzing, hope renewed, “thank you, sir.”

“No problem Sergeant. Now get to medical and have that arm checked out.” He patted her shoulder and left the room.

Unbeknownst to Ghost, he’d sparked an insane idea in (Y/N)‘s head. They say love makes you crazy, in that regard, Sergeant (Y/N) ‘Romeo’ (L/N) lived up to her callsign.

After she went to medical, she told everyone she was turning in for the night early, that she needed more rest so as not to be so distracted the next day. Sleep would not come to her, however. She waited hours, passing the time by looking at (and crying over) old texts and pictures of her and Valeria. She waited long enough that everyone else would be fast asleep, long enough that there would be no one wandering the halls, that the only people awake would be the guards outside of the facility.

When she was sure it was safe, she slipped out of her room and quietly stepped through the halls. Anxiety ran rampant throughout her mind and body but she refused to turn back now. Not when she’d put so much into this relationship.

The thought of betraying her team made her physically sick but the thought of losing Valeria was infinitely worse. It hardly consoled her but hanging onto that was better than leaving the feeling of impending doom to eat away at her conscience.

If you love her, then fight for her.

And god, did (Y/N) love her.

From the moment she’d met Valeria she loved her. Before 141, before everything, back when she was just a rookie, just Private (L/N), she’d been given the call sign “Romeo” for her unending laments of love for the woman that she’d rattle off at any chance she got.

Of course, as she’d grown older and more paranoid, she kept Valeria to herself. A secret love more akin to Romeo and Juliet than ever before.

Valeria was her heart, her soul, her everything.

When she’d made it to her destination, she stared at the storage crate for exactly 5 seconds before opening the door. She cringed as it creaked, instantly catching Valeria’s attention. A million words she’d rehearsed in her head while waiting in her bedroom, not a single one came out.

“What are you doing here?” Valeria asked in hushed yell as (Y/N) shut the door behind herself.

She made careful, chillingly calm steps toward the chair that Valeria was tied to.

“I’m a U.S. marine working with British SAS members in task force 141. Sergeant (Y/N) ‘Romeo’ (L/N).” She walked behind Valeria.

Valeria felt a pressure at her wrists where they were tied before all at once there was nothing. (Y/N) avoided touching the skin near the rope at all cost, as if it would burn her to feel the ever comforting touch of her lover.

“I can see that. What I mean is what the fuck are you doing?” Confusion hidden under anger.

Anger came easy to Valeria, anger was safe. She was not angry in this moment, not at all. She was scared. She was upset. She wished more than anything that she would just wake up to this all having been a bad dream. That she’d open her eyes and see her beautiful girlfriend wrapped in her arms, nuzzled up against her chest, still asleep. She’d kiss her forehead and thank whatever higher power there may be for the light of her life.

(Y/N) dropped to her knees in front of Valeria, beginning to untie the rope on her ankles. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Valeria was shocked. (Y/N) was loyal. So loyal she’d rather cut off her own hand than hurt someone she was close to. Valeria hadn’t been around 141 long, but she knew all too well the bond between soldiers. (Y/N) wouldn’t do this of her own volition. Guilt seeped into Valeria’s bones.

“No.”

(Y/N) disregarded her and continued on the ropes.

“No, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) looked up, “What? Do you not want out of here?” Her tone was uncharacteristically defiant as it slightly broke showing how she really felt. An open book.

Still, she turned back to the ropes.

Valeria cupped her face in both hands as the ropes fell off her ankles, forcing (Y/N) to look at her, “Don’t do this (Y/N), you don’t want to do this.”

(Y/N) tried to bask in her touch but she couldn’t, knowing their fate. Tears streamed down her face, “I can’t live without you,” if her voice had broken before, it had shattered now.

“And I couldn’t live with myself if you went down for my crimes. I’ve got lawyers, (Y/N). I can get myself out of this. Let me get myself out of this.” Valeria’s grip on (Y/N)’s face tightened, firm, but not painful.

“What if that doesn’t work, Valeria? I love you so much it hurts, you are my everything, you are in the blood that pumps through my veins, you are in every thought that runs through my head, you are the air that I breathe, Valeria, I cannot fucking breathe without you. I. Cannot. Lose you.” Sobs escaped her lips, her whole face wet. Her arms reached around the back of Valeria’s neck, desperately trying to stay in her embrace. Eyes shut tight.

Valeria’s palms were already soaked from holding (Y/N)’s face so she turned her hands to wipe at (Y/N)‘s cheeks with her knuckles in a futile attempt to chase away tears that hadn’t stopped flowing. She pressed her forehead to (Y/N)’s, closing her eyes too for a second before opening them back up to ensure to herself that (Y/N) was still there, that she hadn’t just up and disappeared, a trick of her mind.

“And you won’t, mi amor. You won’t lose me, I promise you. I will fight this in court and if that doesn’t work, I have connections that can get me out of there. I will dig my way out of that prison cell with a plastic spoon if I have to. I will make my way back to you, I promise.”

(Y/N) opened up her own eyes, meeting Valeria’s. She unlaced one arm from behind Valeria’s neck so that she could hold out her fist with her pinky sticking out, a silent prompt.

Valeria knew exactly what she meant and interlaced their pinkies, a smile creeping onto her face.

“I promise you.” She whispered.

(Y/N) lunged at her, meeting Valeria’s lips with her own.

Now situated halfway in Valeria’s lap, foreheads still pressed together, lips chasing one another, (Y/N) breathed out a quiet, hopeful, “you fucking better.”

[milky-fixx]

day 5, gin + aizen: threesome

kinktobruary day 5

gin ichimaru x reader x sosuke aizen // bleach

summary: you meant what you’d said when you told ichimaru-taicho you would follow him wherever in the world. while hueco mundo was the last place you’d expect, it seems aizen has plans to test your loyalty….

tw/cws: 18+ only, threesome, domination, dubcon, deepthroating, thigh-fucking, coercion, gin's manipulative personality, aizen's god complex, no boundaries are respected

word count: 2.3K

--note: what in titty kubo’s name have i brought into this world

—

Hueco Mundo is a vast, barren palace. Perfectly reminiscent of the man whose idea it was to defect here.

Almost everything in Las Noches is dismal, awash in monochrome. The infrastructure, the rooms, the desert sands, the very clothes you wear. It makes you feel negated, as if your very identity is being wiped clean and integrated into your surroundings.

But you suppose there’s some truth in that. You are a traitor. You can’t go back to the Seireitei; you came here for one reason and one reason alone: Ichimaru-taicho.

While your loyalty to the man wasn’t nearly as blinding as Izuru’s, perhaps it was worse, in a way. You didn’t justify all the awful things he had done. He hadn’t manipulated you, per se, so much as you let him pull the strings, followed along with whichever whim suited him. Maybe you were worse than Izuru, because you were aware of his true nature, but allowed yourself to be puppeteered. That’s why you’re here in Hueco Mundo, and not him. And why your new life here is off to a shaky start.

If anything is proven when it comes to Ichimaru-taicho, it’s that he doesn’t think much of loyalty, or at least he doesn’t treat you any differently. While the frown and furrowed brows on his normally-smiling face had betrayed his—confusion? dare you say, even frustration with your decision to jump into the portal with them?—it’s almost as if he’s cloaked himself an even thicker mask than before. He’s been nothing but piercing quips and sly jokes the entire time you’ve been here, repelling you even further with the mind games he strings along. 

And he never offers any assistance. As various Arrancar eye you like their newest snack, trip you in the halls, and make disparaging remarks, you take it all in silence. Ever so slowly, however, you find your faith in Ichimaru-taicho fracturing, like hairlines in china.

Is it faith you even have in him at his point? Or is it something closer to despair?

“Oh~ Yer here early.”

“Ichimaru-taicho,” you greet, only slightly surprised. He has a penchant for showing up announced wherever you are, before slipping away like the breeze. He situates himself by the window, observing you like his most interesting doll for throwing. 

“Please, we’re not even in tha’ Seireitei anymore.” He waves his hand dismissively, the mischievous smirk carved into his face. “Why don’t ya call me Gin?”

The letters feel foreign on your tongue. “Gin.” Short, brusque. Much like him and his attitude towards you recently.

“My my, such a lovely sight outside, don’t ya’ think?” he says, surveying the view outside. The white moon. The eternal night.

Your lips tug into a frown. “It… never changes.”

“Oh? Ya’ hate it?” He leans closer to you, seeming particularly interested in your answer. “Why’s that?”

“I guess you could say… I like things that are unpredictable.” You give him a knowing look. His grin doesn’t waver, but he does straighten, lean back out of your reach.

“Well, look at ya~ Kinda masochistic of ya ta’ say that, don’t ya think? Especially with...” His voice lowers, conspiratorially. “Aizen’s eyes and ears around.”

You shoot him a begrudging smile. You are all too aware of how tightly wound Aizen-taicho’s grip is around here. “You’re right.” 

But you do wonder if he really intends to warn you, if he truly cares for your safey. If Gin Ichimaru is more like the ever-stagnant moon forever out of your reach, or if perhaps the barren desert lands are exacerbating the distance between you two.

You shake your head to quell those thoughts. 

“I promise I’ll be careful...Gin.”

—

“Gin,” Aizen’s voice carries, thick as caramel, as he enters the throne room. “I’ve been wanting to discuss something with you.”

“Oh?”

“Regarding that seated officer of yours that followed you here.” Aizen’s eyes seem to gleam with something. Gin internally grimaces.

His ever-permanent smile betrays little of his emotions or thoughts, but this is a conversation he’s been anticipating, ever since you deserted with them here. Aizen exploits any kind of weakness, Gin is well-aware of that, after the many years he’s known him and served under him; where else did he learn to cultivate his own brand of wiliness? But while Gin is a fox, Aizen is a practiced hunter, and he knows when he’s staring down the glint of metal when he sees it.

“Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“They seem quite loyal to you,” he remarks.

“Ya. Pretty dumb, in’t it?” Gin scratches his chin, cocking his head. “Ya’d think Izuru woulda been the one for blind loyalty, but he’s got ties. Reasons to stay behind. (Y/N) on the other hand...” He pauses. “They’re an impulsive one.”

Aizen’s steady gaze seems to penetrate even Gin’s impervious facade. He gets the sense he’s being watched, closer than he assumed. “I wonder… Their loyalty to you is one thing, but I’ve hardly had any interactions with them since we’ve been here. There’s no way to determine their loyalty to me.”

“Gin.” He balances his chin on his open palm, his fingers splaying towards his face. “Do you think they’d ever betray me?”

There it is. The question. “Dunno. Why don’t you find out yerself?” Gin mocks.

When the air around Aizen’s placid countenance churns with something wicked, Gin has the itching sensation he’s decreed your fate.

As he turns away, he frowns. Life was a lot easier when you weren’t involved in the mix. 

—

When Grimmjow stops by to announce you’ve been summoned to Aizen’s throne room, you’re surprised. Your mind runs over all the possibilities that could cause him to summon you—Did Ichimaru-taicho tattle on you? Was your faith in him an utter mistake? Was this just another one of Aizen’s whims?—but they all come to a halt when you enter the room and the molten chocolate of gaze falls on you. Gin is also in the room, waiting in the shadows with his ever-present grin.

“(Y/N)... how are you today?” Aizen says, pleasantly.

“I’m... doing well, Aizen-taicho.” You bow.

“Good.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Unlike Gin, who smiles all the time, but never reveals his eyes. You wonder which one of them is worse to encounter in the wild. “I was just discussing something with Gin. I find it interesting that you decided to follow him all this way....” Here it comes.

“What made you decide to leave behind your life?”

“I—when I joined the Third Division, I promised Ichimaru-taicho—Gin—I would follow him wherever.” You swallow roughly, hoping the sound isn’t loud enough for them to hear.

“Ah... but... even if that meant betraying the very pact you’d made to the Seireitei? After all, your loyalty was sworn to the Gotei 13.”

“When I made that promise, sir, it was actually to—to him. To Gin.”

“Interesting....” Something in his gaze flickers. You get the sense Aizen has found a winning move. “(Y/N), I’m curious. How would you define the nature of your relationship with Gin?”

You still. “E-Excuse me?” you say, when you manage to find your voice.

“It seems to be a rather close bond, if you ask me.” He laughs, a hollow, light sound that dissipates swiftly in the air. “I’m sure Momo would have done the same for me, but....” His amused smirk grows. “It takes a certain kind of person to be able to be willing to start anew”

“I…. respect Gin on many levels.” Even though you shouldn’t, a voice in your head nags. You brush it asiide. 

“Oh? I find respect to be an... interesting concept. How far does this respect of yours go?”

You gaze up at him, not quite understanding. “Ah... Sir?”

“How far would you go to prove your loyalty?” he muses. 

Your mouth runs dry, as you begin to get a sneaking suspicion as to what Aizen is entailing. Your heart pounds hard enough in your chest you worry for one second that it’ll burst through your ribcage.

“Bow down,” he commands. Even without the wave of reiatsu he could be sending towards you, it has the same effect.

You tense, your knees dropping to the ground. You hear him moving towards you, and when you look up, you’re face to face with the tent slacking Aizen’s hakama. You freeze.

“Undress me.” His tone leaves no room for questions; in fact, he looks terribly amused with this entire situation. 

You chance a glance towards Gin, and even he looks startled, the smile slipping from his face.

“Aizen, ya’ naughty thing, what d’ya think yer doin’—”

“Or…” His gaze remains focused on you. “Would you rather be doing this to Gin?”

“I—” You swallow again, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Is this a trick question? His eyes betray nothing other than aloof amusement. He finds your situation entertaining, you realize; he looks down on you in more ways than one.

You swallow down your pride, taking up his challenge. Slowly, you undo the ties to Aizen’s hakama, and are greeted with his sizable girth. Your fingers around its rigid circumference, tugging slightly. Your hands tremble at first, but you still them as you grow bolder in your movements.

He makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat, and you nearly jump at the sound of his voice. “I can hardly feel that. You’ll have to try harder.”

You pump his cock slowly, glancing up at him. When his expectant expression fails to change, you lower your mouth to suck at his tip. He tastes salty, and despite his coldness, his cock throbs in your mouth. Then Aizen takes the opportunity to thrusts into your face, past your teeth and nudging the hollow of your throat. You’re choking, your eyes watering, as his hands fist into your hair. 

He begins plunging his dick into your mouth in rapid succession, and you can just barely manage to keep your mouth open and teeth covered to take it. As he rams himself to the very back of your throat, letting out a grunt, he glances to the side. 

“What do you plan on doing, Gin?”

You’re surprised to see Gin closer now, just a few feet away, watching you both with a slight frown, his arms crossed.

“Hey Aizen, this ain’t fair. They’re my seated officer, ya know.”

“And?” Aizen’s gaze is cool. He laughs. “I’m not stopping you from doing anything. So I repeat—What are you going to do about it?” He thrusts all the way back into your mouth, and you choke again.

Several brutal thrusts into your mouth later, each accompanied by your gagging sounds, you hear cloth rustling. You glance towards him, and Gin is dragging his half-hard cock out from between his hakamas, jerking it off. Aizen chuckles, digging his fingers into your scalp to draw your attention back to him before picking up the pace. You choke, tears slipping from your eyes and drool dripping from your mouth when he pulls away, as Gin comes up behind you. 

“Oh? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” Aizen smirks.

Gin urges you onto all fours, making quick work of your hakama, before shoving it down to your knees. His dick prods your backside as he leans forward. You hear a “Sorry, (Y/N)~,” not nearly as playful as it usually is, as he yanks your thighs together, and slips his cock in between them. Then he’s thrusting into you as if he’s fucking you. 

You look down, and the sight of the head of Gin’s cock popping between your legs has you moaning. Aizen’s length re-enters your mouth, and Gin’s thrusts pick up.

“Geez, (Y/N), sure seems like yer enjoyin this~” His fingers dig into your hips harsh enough to bruise. Almost like he wants to leave a mark on you. 

Aizen chuckles as he pulls out of your throat once more, a thick strand of saliva and pre-cum connecting the two of you. “Why don’t you stick it in, Gin?”

Gin’s voice is sharp despite his playful expression. “I like to tease ‘em a lil.”

“Fair enough.”

The two of them continue their assault on both sides of you. They don’t even attempt to establish a rhythm or synchrony; rather, each of them seem determined to claim a part of you: Aizen’s hips drive past your lips like he wants to excavate your throat, and Gin’s pounding has his thighs slapping against yours with every thrust forward, the friction of him being so close to where you want him to causing your thighs to tremble in anticipation. 

Aizen suddenly surges into you, his hands gripping your locks as he grunts. Hot ropes of cum are released into your throat, while Gin isn’t too far off. He slams into your thighs, his fingers clenching the meat of your ass. With a hiss, his spend splatters between them. Both men are breathing heavily, and when they release their hold on you, your arms and legs wobble, before giving out. Your face nearly hits, if it were’t for Gin grasping you around the stomach and Aizen holding you up by your chin. 

“Gotta be careful~ Wouldn’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours, right?” Gin leers.

“I think that’s satisfactory enough.” Aizen relinquishes his hold, slipping himself back into his hakama. “Take care of this, will you, Gin? I have a meeting with the Espada.” He turns, exiting the chamber.

He leaves the two of you there to clean up, and it’s not until the echo of his footsteps fade entirely that Gin’s grip on you tightens. 

“W-Why?” Your voice is hoarse, your throat sore, but you still ask. You still need to know—

His mouth a thin line, he yanks up your hakama before swiping Aizen’s release from your face with his sleeve. As he finally faces you, his lips curve into their signature grin. 

“This is what ya get for comin all this way with us, darlin~ Regret it, yet?”

[lipglossanon]

wild unhinged idea,,, sorry for so many long asks i really cherish your mental health and i feel bad filling your inbox so much with such long ideas but i hope you’re doing better <33333 (i can’t remember if you said this or not but i remember you said monster fucking is underrated and my brain conjured up this mess, i hope it doesn’t overstep boundaries,, love you <3)

las plagas dark!stepdad leon one shot,,,,,, like he goes on a work trip to Spain and comes back different but not like ~bad~ different 🤭, like equally as possessive and unhinged just something’s are more noticeable like his monster dick 👀 like black veins fading up his arms, an incessant need for biting you and tasting your blood slightly more than the usual or at the least he’s not leaving the marks in places just he can see, a longer tongue 🫣, more pronounced canines you get the vibes,,,,, eventually your mom goes out of town and it’s just you and leon and you wake up tied to the bed face down while he tentacles you everywhere (that is now a verb lol). down your throat- blocking your nose occasionally, prodding your back to see what makes you wet, spreading you open with his claws and grabbing your ass till your skin is bruised and bleeding. after days of him using you in the most obscene ways he finally lets you see him and the universe can’t save you now lmao, his cock is longer and thicker (how?!) than before making you cry before it even hits the back of your throat from the girth alone while he tells you you’re his good girl and strokes your hair followed by skull fucking you into oblivion 🥵 and like imagine calling plagas leon daddy, he’d malfunction 🤭 also like lactation plus plagas leon or like period sex plus plagas leon 🤔 not asking you to write it but like how would that go??? probably too well 🤭 and we know he loves eating you out- how far can that tongue go though? 👀,,,,, also canon divergence??? kinda?- i guess lol but barbed dick plagas leon? similar functionality to knotting but make it MonsterFucker??? (i also think i just discovered dark stepdaddy leon is just plagas leon minus the parasite writing this and trying to distinctly make it plagas leon but it’s just Unhinged Horny™️ leon, like dark stepdad would definitely get permanent vampire fangs just to bite you 🤭)

- 💀

(it’s so long already but my brain had a partial thought sorry if it’s overstepping any boundaries i just kinda bullshitted my way through this before i forgot lmao,,, you wake up head facing the bed realizing you’re- suspended? by what? trying to grasp your surroundings you look to the other side vaguely seeing tentacles out the corner of your eyes before seeing Leon for the first time since you woke up in here. he looks, more muscular with faded black veins everywhere, 👀 he watches you look at him studying the way your body responds almost- clicking? in response, you moan loudly feeling something wriggle it’s way into your pussy trying to tighten your walls around it you realize something- two something’s? are holding you open before searing pleasure washes over you at the feeling of that- tentacle? latch onto your g spot making you cum without a second thought so overcome with pleasure. you finally open your eyes to see Leon next to you stroking his cock, barely able to get his hand around the base, thumb more than an inch away from his fingers. eyes watering you realize he’s not even hit the back of your throat and your lips are already stretched to the point of bleeding, you must black out because when you wake up he’s holding your throat with his claws, digging them in slightly while fucking your face to the point of pain. the haze of everything makes it hard for your senses to tell if he’s close but he finally releases himself in the back of your throat screaming around his length you feel- barbs? he grabs your hair forcing all he has down your throat the pain quickly absolving into euphoria as his body violently shudders and the barbs retreat leaving you coughing up blood before a tentacle covered in black goo shoves it way down your throat. you feel electricity course through your body at the sudden intrusion before it’s replaced with shock and violent squirming when a tentacle makes it was onto your clit, making you succumb to the pleasure. you watch Leon stand between your legs pushing his foreskin back to expose his tip, leaking the same black goo as the tentacles inside you and to your horror and excitement you watch him roll his neck and the black veins become more prominent when he runs his fingers over his tip and his entire cock lengthens and the girth- no way that’s going to fit in you. he lines himself up with your held open cunt, screaming when you’re stretched even further so he can barely shove in the tip alone- once he’s bottomed out you see a prominent bulge lower in your belly from how deep he is moaning in ecstasy as the onslaught of sensations mingle with each other. he’s so deep in you at that point your own pleasure became background noise to you, only feeling the need to have your stepdad cum in you over and over again when finally his mandibles release your face and his tongue retreats from so far down your throat you’d think he was in your stomach. swallowing the goo you shuddered as you came quickly screaming the most blood curdling scream you could as the barbs on his penis protrude once again this time into your walls as you pulse around him milking him for all he has which if you had any sense of time you’d think it wasn’t that long until you watched the sunset out the window, realization set in your stepdad had been in you the entire day, barbs still pricking your walls as you feel another orgasm wrench it’s way through your body every few minutes? hours? you must’ve passed out, waking up in your mom and Leon’s bed thinking it was all a dream but quickly realizing your stepdad was on top of you- and still in you, barbs and all, the thought alone of all that happened hours? ago has another orgasm washing over you making you spasm, while- looking normal as before- your stepdad whisperers “it’s easier if you don’t move too much sweetie, keeps it from taking me over again”. before dropping his head back into the crook of your neck.)

💀 anon, I am dead

And this is what killed me: “it’s easier if you don’t move too much sweetie, keeps it from taking me over again”.

The whole thing has me wanting to gnaw on my walls like a rat 🐀

I have nothing to add but I will be thinking thoughts friend 🤭

[galzydraw]

To Ganz Gusev: You can show a profile of Eliz la revenant V (I loved her design on Instagram) I'm excited to hear about his role in Promised! Tale and what is the trait of his soul.

Promised!Eliz (Timeline V)

Elizabeth Will (20 years old) Granddaughter of the "legendary P! Gerson" and fifth returnee of Tamara's group

When Promised! Tale was created She was found hanging from a pine tree waterfall (for 4 hours) when she was just an orphaned child.

And who was the one who rescued her? "P! Gerson" found her after retiring from her position as a royal guard due to her age and poor health. She was surprised when she tried to return home and saw the little girl in trouble and very tired. Without much thought she cut the pine tree with her bone sword. and he took care of the girl since she was in very bad condition.

Although the girl was not responding due to lack of food. She realized that she was the girl that many said stole food at the waterfalls. Despite her oath to hand such people over to the royal guard to the empress. She saw the girl in need, but apart from that, she was a girl and didn't see that as necessary. But if you go with all those who ever see you steal something from them. She gave those inhabitants a joy to see that the girl did apologize for her past actions since P! Gerson showed her that those actions of hers would not take her anywhere.

To which, after being able to feed her, something in her had a hard time talking to her. since little Eliz barely knew how to say a word. That put more stress on old P! Gerson to find out more about the girl and her past. to which she went to her old friend empress toriel to ask if she knew anything about the girl or her family…

To which the empress is surprised to see Eliz after a long time. and she responded that Eliz was a creation made to give a family to a human couple. But at the time of creating her she ran away from her (since she became nervous when she met her new family) and shortly after she was searched by the entire line of sentinels but they never found her whereabouts. until now that P!Gerson found her

To which Father Gerson understood and saw the little girl shortly after meeting her and for several months he walked around the island asking who the girl belonged to and if they knew about her family. He became attached to the girl during that trip and search.

To which he offered to take care of her and adopt her. giving him a good life and education.

Eliz grew up surrounded by good friends in Waterfell and at the same time helped her grandfather with her medication. Until everything fell apart due to the fall of the kingdom by Error!Sans. causing the fateful death of Eliz, who with her sacrifice saved her grandfather but at the cost of her life she was disintegrated by space and time.

Leaving P! Gerson heartbroken over losing his only family…

Years passed and we talked about how after Tamara she reset the world after obtaining the fourth reset fragment. (Timeline V was created) This is where Emperor Gaster after failing in his attempt to dominate the Au in the fourth timeline. He finds the code and Eliz's soul in the underground. And thanks to his ignorance and his thirst for revenge because of Tamara and a small group of returnees who were previously his allies, he turns Eliz into a returnee and as one more in Gaster's plans he orders poor Eliz to attack and finish the beings from Ebott Island and Tamara's silly team who were just becoming known as the saviors.

And this is where the story begins of Eliz being a returnee and how she fought Tamara against her will due to Emperor Gaster's curse….

(I am NOT going to give any more spoilers about Eliz and her story since "This subplot of the comic is the one I liked writing the most and it would be bad for me to tell it all): 3

Curiosities:

1- Eliz is bisexual

2- The bone sword she uses is a gift from her grandfather P! Gerson (Maintaining the legacy of her former grandfather)

3- she likes pizza with pineapple

4- She loves to collect cascading gemstones. This is a hobby that P! Gerson himself dedicated himself to entertainment when he was barely 6 years old.

5- She likes to read superhero comics.

6- The reason she can levitate is because her powerful soul that has the "optimism" trait is released through magical waves that make her levitate slightly.

7- The Cap she has was found in the waterfall dump even though she had to fight with P! Dummy to get it when she was an orphan. She says it's her favorite cap. and that if she were lost she would go crazy and would not tire of looking for him.

8- She suffers from Brontophobia (Fear of storms), reason? Lightning struck him after he failed to control her levitation.

Statistics:

HP: 30 ATC: 5000 Per hit with her "Bone Sword" (she is the strongest in terms of melee weapon damage)

Level: 1 Soul: Optimistic Species: Human and (Revenant Alpha)

Art by: @ganzdraw

[jaggedwolf]

Ace Attorney ficlets

uh spoilers for AA4, AA5 and AAI2 I guess, in that order

Awakening

The last person Mia expects to see walk into her hospital room is Phoenix Wright.

The doctor explained to her the circumstances of her injury and subsequent coma. He'd done it with the kind of patient benevolence that would have infuriated Mia, if it weren't for the aching of her body and the wall calendar saying 2022.

She expected Maya, maybe. They said they'd call her, when Mia's first words upon awakening were just her sister's name repeated, but Maya must be the Kurain Master by now, busy and far away. She hadn't expected to see the boy she'd defended, the man whose career she'd only so briefly touched.

Phoenix stares at her. There's a stupid-looking blue beanie in his hands. "Hey, Chief."

"They don't care about you"

The beauty of dressing as brilliantly and as boldly as Klavier does, is that it is child's play to navigate even Los Angeles without drawing attention. The people expect the purple jacket, the Gavinner necklace, the styled blond hair. 

He has given it to them recently enough. Last week, even. He roared into the concert venue's parking lot on his favorite blood-red motorcycle, to thunderous cheering and eye-watering camera flashes. Dozens of autographs granted. A few soundbites. He played the — what was it the Fraulein Detective called him — ja, yes, the glimmerous fop to a tee, a loose smile as he ignored the few questions about the Misham trial. Most of the media understood the deal. If they accepted that Klavier the lawyer would not answer their questions, they would get as much of Klavier the performer as they wanted. 

Not as much that night. He was there to lend publicity, not steal it. The Gavinner's opener from that last peformance with Lamiroir had had their own tour derailed from the murder case. Attending their concert was the least Klavier could do. Not a hardship, to be surrounded by music and people who paid no attention to murder trials, even ones as big as Kristoph’s. 

Today, Klavier dons a disguise. A baggy blue windbreaker that hides his excellent figure, his necklace, chain and rings absent, topped off with an inspired final touch, if he says so himself. A plain black beanie, all of his hair stuffed and twisted within it. He even abandons the motorcycle.

His ride is a beat-up car, picked up from an out-of-the way garage. He drives for an hour or so, strip mall after strip mall and yellowed hill after yellowed hill passing him by on the highway, the telephone wires and billboards blending together. His head grows warm. The car is too quiet. 

He opens a window. Leaves the radio untouched. The beanie stays on. 

The prison’s parking lot is mostly empty, and when he passes his ID to the guard, the woman barely blinks. All part of the routine.

Not part of the routine is the guard returning within five minutes to say that Kristoph will see him. Klavier stumbles out of his plastic seat so fast that he almost trips. Kristoph never sees him. Klavier has made the drive every week since his return to LA. He’s been turned away every time.

Perhaps Kristoph’s final collapse in court has brought about a change of heart. Unlikely. Yet an opening is an opening, and is meant to be pursued.

Solitary Cell 13 is as plush as it appeared in Wright’s video. Plusher, possibly. Kristoph sits in the floral pink armchair with crossed arms. As Klavier steps closer to the cell bars, a small smile grows on Kristoph’s face.

“Come to boast of your victory?” Kristoph looks as put together as ever. “You always were a sore winner, Klavier. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I wouldn’t call it my victory.” Klavier points out the inaccuracy before Kristoph can. “I lost the Misham trial. I didn’t prosecute your case.” He watched from the gallery as Prosecutor Debeste brought the trial to its final conclusion. 

“It’s good to know the limits of your abilities,” says Kristoph. The corner of his eye twitches. “I would invite you in, but I am no longer trusted with that privilege.”

“I prefer the view out here,” says Klavier. The hallway light flickers above him, a crackling that catches his ears’ attention and will not let go of it.

“Weren’t you listening? You don't get to choose,” snaps Kristoph. His gaze narrows. “Why are you here?”

For the first time, Klavier understands his brother. As neat as his hair is and as pressed as his suit is today, Kristoph will always appear to him as he did at the end of the Misham trial. A pathetic, cruel man, with no allies and no escape. 

The purpose of Kristoph’s question then, is plain to any lawyer who’s been in court. A trap. 

Klavier walks into it. “You’re my brother.”

Satisfaction sparks in Kristoph’s eyes, and Klavier is brought back to a distant memory, of his mother cooing over the similarity of the brothers’ eyes, over a teenage Kristoph’s disgruntled objection that their eyes were different colors. 

Kristoph tilts his head. “Does that mean something to you now?”

“It has always meant something to me,” answers Klavier. More honesty. More fodder for his brother.

“I find that hard to believe,” says Kristoph, an edge creeping into his voice, “given the way you offered me up to the slaughter.” He laughs.

Klavier loathes that laugh. In a few months, he will never hear that laugh again. Sooner, if Kristoph decides so. 

“And your attire,” continues Kristoph, “is even more ridiculous than usual. Are you taking tips from Wright?” 

Kristoph glares at Klavier’s beanie with more passion than Klavier himself has felt for any article of clothing. It hadn’t been intentional, but as with music, who is to say where one’s influences came from? 

“Perhaps,” says Klavier. 

“Wright.” Kristoph spits the name. “Don’t be naive. They don’t care about you.”

“What?” 

“Phoenix Wright. Apollo Justice. Trucy Wright. That detective.” The growl in Kristoph’s throat grows with every sentence, and Klavier finds himself distantly grateful that Skye's name has escaped Kristoph’s notice. “None of them care for you. You were nothing more than a tool for a trial already planned.”

“Oh,” says Klavier. He shrugs. “I’m aware.”

“You—what?” Kristoph rears back as if he were slapped.

“Do you think it was sentiment that moved me?” Klavier steps closer. “A worthy adversary in court. A teenage fan. A man I got disbarred. A capable if distracted subordinate. Did you think I cared more for them than you? I thought you were cleverer than that, ja?”

Kristoph’s mouth moves, but no sound emerges.

Klavier has a dazzling smile, one that breaks the hearts of men and women around the world, one that can make the peak of a guitar solo even higher, one that photographs beautifully. He flashes it. “At the end of the day, Kristoph, all of us are tools. Of each other, of the system, of the truth. The past year has taught me that much.”

“Caring about me,” says Klavier, “is not something I expect of them. Or ever will, I think.” 

“It’s time for you to go,” says Kristoph, a venomous look in his eyes. Of all the points in their conversation to upset him so, Klavier had not anticipated this one. Kristoph raises his voice. “Guard!”

“I will be back next week,” says Klavier, though his brother must already know that. “Do you have any food requests? I assume the guards will permit it, given your cell.”

“I can get anything I want here.” Kristoph’s expression grows more spiteful. “Your assistance is unnecessary.”

“You have always been good at going after what you wanted.” Klavier laughs. He raises his hand to run it through his hair, only to run into his beanie. He skims his fingertips against the top edge of the brim, well-aware that Kristoph has cataloged the mistake. 

The guard arrives to escort him out. As he turns to leave, Klavier adds, “I learned that from watching you.”

For your own good

"Athena, have you found Aura's-"

"No," says Athena, her voice distant.

The headphones are so light. That's Athena's first thought, when she picks them up from the mess of a desk drawer. Her second is that her hands are so big around each of them. Had her head really been that small?

"What?" says Simon's voice. "Oh."

When Athena looks up, she thinks: You're standing too far away.

He's back by the lab window, his hands behind his back as a look of surprise crosses his face. They're used to each other in court, she swears, a flurry of "Objection!"s and "Silence!"s, a case and the truth on the line. Here in this lab that belongs to neither of them but is undeniably theirs, Athena is reminded of all those times Simon casually patted her head as he walked by, or the few occasions she'd dared to tug on his sleeve to ask him something.

She makes a face. It'd be weird for any of that to happen now. She doesn't want it to. But she does want to be friends with Simon. She stomps over to him so he can actually see the stupid headphones.

Simon frowns. "I thought I cleaned it off and left it with you."

"Mom always kept extras in the lab." Athena shrugs. "In case I forgot them upstairs." Her eyes dart to the photo of her mother on Aura's desk. "I'm surprised she didn't throw them all away."

Simon opens his mouth, and then shuts it, apparently thinking better of what he was about to say. Athena spins one of the headphones around her index finger, letting it go round after round before catching it in her palm.

It's funny. As a kid, Athena liked Aura more than Simon. Simon was new and talked way too loudly and spent so much time with her mom using words she didn't understand. Her mom left conversations with him using even more of those words. Athena didn't enjoy one of the few voices she could stand being taken from her that way.

Aura liked and knew how to explain her robots to anyone, even Athena and often Junie. And sure, sometimes Aura got into moods where she'd spend hours on her robots, with Mom saying she didn't want to be disturbed, but Athena understood that. She hid from people so often herself. It wasn't like now, every person an opportunity for discovery, a potential puzzle to be probed and resolved. Back then, people's voices bled straight into her heart with no interpretation to mediate, a flood of warring emotions, false faces, lies to themselves. Retreating to the lab to scrawl out a drawing felt so much better. Mom and Aura had never minded.

Athena wanders over to where they've organized all the other stuff they've found. "We can toss these into the throw pile."

She's halfway through digging through the rest of the mess in drawer when-

"The headphones were to help you," says Simon suddenly, from his own messy corner.

"I know," snaps back Widget, before Athena can. She doesn't hate them. She's just not that little kid who needs them anymore.

When she looks at Simon, there's a tension around his eyes, as if he needs Athena to understand this. As if he hadn't already said this in court. As if it's important he says it outside of court too.

Maybe it is, Athena thinks, remembering all those hours that his sister and her mother spent working together here, spinning up ideas that had nothing to do with space travel. She shifts the headphones to a different pile, the one for unfinished projects that other engineers might pick up. "Maybe they can help someone else."

Simon opens his mouth. Pauses. This time he charges ahead, saying, "She wanted you to see the world, you know." His words are slow. He's reluctant to betray her mother's confidence, all these years later. "She hoped that your ability could be a gift to you, not a curse. That you wouldn't have to spend years trapped here. Or anywhere."

Every word is wrapped in a thin layer of fear.

Athena wants to scream. She wants to yell at him again for what he did, to ask him if her mother's words were why he did it, if it was worth what has become of his sister.

Instead, she grins, holding out her hand in a peace sign. "I've been to so many countries, Prosecutor Blackquill. Way more than you!" She takes a step back towards the desk, and then turns back to point at him. "What was the most annoying thing about my mom as a mentor?"

"What?" Simon looks grievously offended. It makes him look years younger. "Your mother was an excellent mentor."

"There had to be something you didn't like. Anything. You have to tell me, you know."

He squints. "I'll....think on it. I doubt there is anything."

"Think harder! Come up with something before I'm done with this drawer." Athena dives back in.

Beauty

It's unusual of him, Miles knew, to have disclosed his history with Wright to Kay. There were too many possible causes to fault. That Kay was an adult, for long enough that she'd stopped reminding him of that fact. That they were thousands of miles away from Los Angeles - her on a grand tour of Europe for purposes he'd prefer not to hear about, him studying yet another law system in yet another country. That halfway through pouring small glasses of scotch from the bottle kept in his desk, he realized it was Von Karma's favorite kind.

That Wright's latest email revealed little and accepted even less.

Kay leaned back against his desk next to him. She gestured with her glass, the liquid sloshing dangerously within it. Kay spoke before Miles could encourage some restraint. "Mr. Edgeworth! That's so beautiful, your friend would make a very good thief. Not as good as me, of course."

"I-" Miles sputtered. He reached up to place his own empty glass on the desk behind him. "A thief? How does that make any sense?"

Kay gulped down more scotch. When she grimaced at the taste and tried to hide it, Miles couldn't help but think of the first time Franziska had drank with him and Von Karma. He'd never seen Franziska drink whiskey since Von Karma's arrest, only the occasional pilsner.

(He tried to remember if his father had drank.

Miles could ask Mr. Shields.

Miles wouldn't.)

The comparison with Franziska was dismissed from his mind when Kay passionately clenched her fist to her chest, her eyes softening.

"Von Karma stole you," explained Kay with unwarranted confidence - perhaps he shouldn't have poured her that second glass - and she turned towards him, "and Mr. Wright stole you back!"

"It's not theft when it's a person..."

It seemed there would be no end to the thief metaphors. Or the Jammin' Ninja metaphors, for Kay then deemed it necessary to compare their past to some absurd plotline from that inferior show, casting Wright as the Ninja and Miles as Princess Misola. Ridiculous. Wright had no knack for music.

Furthermore, there was a Steel Samurai storyline from three years ago that fit the situation far better.

The conversation drifted to which European countries they've both been to and which they haven't, Miles grateful that Kay either forgot to or declined to ask what happened with Wright next. He had no intention of spreading the news of the man's disbarment. A disbarment he knows must be unwarranted.

Yet the few emails he'd sent to Wright had been met with nothing more than polite bemusement, casual acceptance of the end of a career and mentions of that new daughter.

If Wright needed him in the courtroom again, Miles would be on a plane tonight. If Wright was in the hospital again, Miles would be on a plane tonight. But Wright's emails were clear. Wright had no need of him, and so Miles had no right to interfere.

Stole you back, Kay had said. Thieves, as did most criminals, cared little for what their rights were.

Miles Edgeworth was no thief. He was a prosecutor, through and through.

I owe Wright too much, thought Miles, his chest warm from the alcohol, to be the one to steal him.

"It's broken"

“I spy an incongruity between our victim and these surroundings. The full autopsy report might offer an explanation, of course, but…Sebastian. What do you think explains it?”

Sebastian had heard the last question a lot ever since he started shadowing Mr. Edgeworth. Usually, it meant Mr. Edgeworth already knew the answer to his question, and wanted to see if Sebastian could figure it out on its own. Maybe he’d already solved the entire case in his head? No, Sebastian reminded himself, Mr. Edgeworth doesn’t like wasting time. If he had solved the case, he’d be storming into the coroner’s office by now.

His conducting baton flexed between his hands, Sebastian considered the question. The victim was a middle-aged man dressed in a fancy-looking tuxedo, the kind Pops hated wearing, but the body was lying in a shabby studio apartment that was smaller than the garage of Pops’ house. My house.

He shook off the thought. Mr. Edgeworth was still waiting for an answer, his arms crossed as he stared at Sebastian. Sebastian would’ve thought it a glare, but he’d learned over the past few months that Mr. Edgeworth’s face was just like that.

An answer came forth. The victim didn’t live here…which means someone moved the body here….maybe the killer? The killer lives here, and was interrupted. Yes, that must be it! Sebastian opened his mouth.

He closed it. He reminded himself that he couldn’t trust his first guess. His gaze traveled to the victim’s face, and then to the pictures stuck to the fridge, the bills on the table, and the shoes by the door. “He lived here. There are photographs of him on the fridge in that scarf that’s on the couch.”

“Hmm,” said Mr. Edgeworth.

Sebastian pressed on, “I-I don’t think the outfit is his. The shoes are too big. I think someone either lent him the clothes, or dressed him after he died. Maybe the second one, because there isn’t blood anywhere other than on his clothes.”

“We haven’t looked under the body yet,” pointed out Mr. Edgeworth, and Sebastian winced. Mr. Edgeworth continued, “However, in essence, I’ve arrived at the same conclusion.”

Sebastian straightened up, pleased. A loud CRACK! erupted between his hands, and sudden pain whipped across his chin. He staggered back. Two sticks dropped from his hand. Two? But—

He dropped to his knees, grabbing one of the pieces of his baton. It was the bottom half, a sharp edge across it that explained the throbbing of his chin. He’d bent it too hard. Stupid. He needed to find the other half. It’s from Pops, I can’t lose it. 

“Sebastian,” said Mr. Edgeworth, suddenly next to him and not across the room. When did that happen? Mr. Edgeworth’s hand hovered over his shoulder. “Sebastian, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s broken,” said Sebastian, tears welling up in his eyes. Mr. Edgeworth looked confused, and Sebastian realized how stupid he sounded. He stuck his hand under the couch, relieved when he felt the other half of his baton. He showed both pieces to Mr. Edgeworth, and tried to explain. “I don’t want to laminate—I mean, contaminate, the crime scene.”

Mr. Edgeworth’s gaze dropped down to the pieces in his hands. Sebastian didn’t like the way Mr. Edgeworth’s forehead tensed up, as if he were solving a crime scene. 

“A well-founded concern,” said Mr. Edgeworth. “To that end, Detective Gumshoe should be able to assist you with that injury. He is well-supplied with band-aids, given his own mishaps.”

Sebastian nodded, jumping to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He fiddled with the broken pieces of his baton in his pocket while waiting for the elevator. He’d only ever had the one baton. He didn’t even know it could break. Of course my idiot son found the one way to break it, says Pops’ voice. Maybe he could find out where Pops had gotten this one? Justine would help. More tears came.

No, retorted a part of Sebastian, that’s enough. He blinked hard. He—he didn’t need a stupid baton to prosecute. Especially not one from him. He needed to stop reacting to every little thing like this.

Pops had alternated between floods of tears and fires of rage, leaving Sebastian and everyone else in suspense as to which mood was next. Sebastian had meant what he’d told Mr. Edgeworth. He wasn’t going to be like his father. If he wanted to be like another prosecutor, he wanted to be like Mr. Edgeworth. He wanted to be even better than Mr. Edgeworth.

And Mr. Edgeworth didn’t cry.

Sebastian stepped into the elevator, and swallowed down his tears.