#no one else had uploaded this so i figured i might as well

[cyn-write]

"You've Bewitched Me"

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - NRC Students x F!reader

Warnings - Gossip, Incredibly Shy Reader with Stage Fright, Depictions of Anxiety, Not Beta Read

Song - "Bewitched" by Laufey

Prologue (Here) - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

When @/thegreatestmagealive uploaded a video of the Ramshackle Perfect singing a love song, to say NRC nearly blew up would be an understatement.

The song, the poster titled “Bewitched,” became an instant hit across campus, but also became the source of tension as everyone was asking the same question: Who bewitched the Ramshackle Perfect?

“20 Thumbmarks on Leona!”

“15 on Kalim!”

“Kalim? Really, no it has to be Vil!”

“30 DOLLARS ON LORD MALLEUS!”

“EVERYONE HUSH! Now Francis, how much on Vil?” The Halls of NRC were filled with gossip on who the song was about. There were multiple pots floating around of people betting on who it was about, and just as many heated discussions.

“Who says it’s a housewarden? She spends most of her time with the Freshies so it has to be one of them! My money is on the Red Head on the Basketball team, he is always hanging on her!” A Scarabia student chimed in at this corner table of the Cafateria.

“Ace? He’s an ass, no it has to be Spade! Anytime someone makes a comment about he at practice, he gets all defensive.” A Heartstyble student on the track team chimed in.

“That runt? Na, he has nothing on Jack.” The Savannaclaw student across from them chimed in.

“The Wolf? He barely says any words! Besides, the Perfect has more class than that, it has to be Epel!” A Pomefoire Student retorted getting glares from the Savannaclaw student.

“All of you are wrong, I ran the data,” The Ignanhyde student pulled out his tablet and showed them a chart, “Out of all the possibilities crossed referenced with the lyrics of the song, it has to be-“

Debates across the school were happening as people discussed who she was singing for. While some advocated for others, others advocated for themselves.

That night, in the midst of the debates, a poor Grim was looking for a place to stay the night. So he went first to Heartstyble.

Grim walked through the portal and saw *chaos*.

“CAULDRON!”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL!”

“Calm down you two! No one is going anywhere till Riddle gets back!”

Trey helped Ace out from under the cauldron while Cater tried to calm down Deuce who was red as roses. “Yuu’s private song was just released and all you can think about it YOURSELF!” Deuce called out to Ace as he attempted to wesal himself out of Cater’s grip.

Ace dusted himself off as Trey helped him up, “Well, it is pretty obvious! Who else could it be about? You Loosey Duece? Or maybe Mr. Magicam? Chef Dad? Or maybe, our esteemed leader? No. It has to be me, so I am going to go check on her-“

Deuce tackled Ace, again, so Trey and Cater had to dive in to separate the two.

It did not take long for grim to realize it might be best to come back later. So he went back through the portal to try Savannaclaw.

But his scruff was grabbed before he could step through.

“Heeeey, Sealie!!” Grim gulped as he knew that voice all too well. Floyd turned Grim around so he was facing the two most terrifying smiles in NRC. “Mind clearing something up for Jade and I? See, he thinks Shrimpy’s song is about him, but I say its bout me. And every guppy is saying a different name, so we wanted to get info from them inside fishie~”

“W-what are you talking about!” Grim said crossing his arms. He knew he was in deeeeep dodo.

“Come now Grim, you must know who she’s singing about?” Jade said with a sonically smile on his face, “Now, as Yuu’s close friends, we just want to know, who bewitched our dear friend?”

“Yeeeaaah Sealie, who?” Floyd sung melodically.

“I-I ain’t saying anything!” Grim kept his mouth shut. He had already made Yuu mad, he didn’t want to make. It any worse.

“Oh come on Sealie! Everyone has a price! What’s yours??-“

“What are you two doing?” Came the harsh voice of Vil, Grim’s savior. The housewarden meeting must have finished. Early as all seven, yes even Malleus, came into the hall of mirrors to witness poor little grim shiver in his fur.

“Heya Beta!” Floyd said and waved Grim around, “We’re just asking Sealie a question! That’s all!”

“I’m guessing it’s about Yuu?” Azul asked as he made his way over to his Eel’s. “How is the Ramshackle Perfect? We missed her at the meeting.”

“Yuu… wellllllllll….” Grim scratched his cheek and the other housewarden’s came over, all wondering the same thing, “She is kinda sorta mad at me. And kinda sorta threw me out for ‘not respecting her privacy’ which I didn’t mean to get her upset, I just wanted to show everyone she had a pretty voice and she got all mad.”

“We’ll if you need a place to stay, Octavinelle is always open to poor souls! And I am sure we can work out a pi-“

“We all know what you want Azul, just ask him now so we can clear this up!” Leona said, clearly annoyed at the Mers underhanded methods. “Whose the song about?”

“I-I don-“

“Why are we even asking this question? It is clearly me!” Vil said shaking his head.

“What makes you so sure Schoenheit?” Malleus asked, “I spend more time with the Child of Man and have more magical prowess, it is defiantly about me. I was just about to grab her the-“

“No way the songs about you Lizard!” Leona retorted, “She clearly-“

“The Song’s about Nii-Chan! I ran the-“ Ortho chimed in with Idia listening in on his screen.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET!” Riddle yelled, somehow getting the attention of the others, “This is disgraceful! You are. All concerned with your own selfish needs when you should be worrying about our fellow housewarden whose privacy has been breached and is probably distraught!”

Kalim nodded and said, “Yeah, we need to go cheer her up! Besides, it was probably just a song about love, nothing else!”

Grim sighed and added, “Oh its about someone, You she hear the other songs she wrote about him-“

“About WHO!” Everyone asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Grim said and got the glares of everyone.

Azul sighed and said, “You just said you knew.”

“I said I knew she has a crush and wrote more songs about him. I never said I knew WHO it was.” He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, “And she threw me out before I could ask. I tried going back in but she sounded so… upset. When I asked to come back in and apologized she said she just wanted to be alone…”

The group looked dejected at this. Floyd let Grim go and sighed, “Poor Shrimpy…”

Azul looked at Jade and Floyd, “Let’s go, Lounge won’t run itself.”

As Azul left with his Eels, Leona and Kalim also branched off their dorms, “Jamil is probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, I gotta make sure Savannaclaw is still in one piece.”

Vil and Ortho branched off next with Vil grumbling about wrinkles and Ortho talking to Idia.

Riddle and Malleus were the last two left with Grim.

“Grim, your welcome to stay at Heartstyble. It might help keep Ace and Deuce in.” Riddle said then looked to Malleus, “The Perfect probably needs a night, but if you do check on her, please let her know I-… We are here if she needs us.”

“I will Roseheart,” Malleus nodded to his red haired companion as he and Grim walk through the Heartstyble Mirror. Malleus turns and before he can make his way to Ramshackle, Lilia is there. All he has to do is shake his head and Malleus knows what his mentor is trying to say, she needs time alone.

The next morning, the first years go to Ramshackle to walk with Yuu to breakfast as they do every morning, but when they got their, the ghost intervened and said she needs to sleep in. The three ghost refused to let any of them enter and even brought Grim’s stuff to the door.

Yuu did not show to any of her classes or reply to any text, and all of her friends quickly understood why. Yuu’s song was all everyone was talking about, more specifically, who it was about. All the pots from the nights before had tripled and almost every students had a guess on who it was about. Yuu has never felt more embarrassed.

By the time night rolled around again, Yuu had read every text, post, and comment about her song. People were making guesses and demanding she confess who. In the midst of the chaos and rumors, all she could think about was what her crush was thinking. She had liked him as more than a friend for a while now, but had no clue if he returned the sentiment. All the worse possibilities were running through her head.. ‘He probably thinks I’m some obsessed freak, this is so embarrassing, Grim ruined. everything, there is no coming back from this. our friendship is ruined, I can never show my face at school again…” Thoughts like this combined with her stage fright made her mood worse. She wrote songs and sang them to help her work through things, it was incredibly personal for her and she never intended to share any of them, not yet at least. Now she was lying in her bed, curled up in her blankets with her phone lighting up with text next to her. She could not bring herself to talk to anyone, she was too scared and embarrassed to.

The Ghost have been kind enough to fend off Grim (who she was still mad at) and her friends (who she was still too embarrassed to see) so she could have some time alone. They worked as her guards and caretakers, making her eat and get up every now and then. They were also the only ones who knew who her songs were about.

So when he arrived on her doorstep, the ghost decided to let him in.

Yuu was looking at her notebook, pouring over the lyrics again and again when a knock came at her bedroom door.

“Yuu… can I come in?” His voice carried through the door.

Yuu felt her heart stop. She held her notebook tightly and sighed, “I guess its now or never…”

She got up from her bed, notebook in hand, and stood in front of the door. She was shaking and as she stared at the door, terrified of what would happen next, when he cast a spell over her once again:

“Yuu, I… I don’t. know if that song was about me but I want you to know. You’ve bewitched me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: This is the Prolouge to a small series! Be on the look out for each characters part and if you want tagged please let me know! Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[timewillpasssoon]

NO ME QUEDA MÁS

pairing . Joost Klein x singer-gn! reader

content . you are addressed as 'reader', reader can be seen as male or female, mentions of unrequited love, jealousy, insecurities, suggestive mentions, making out, best friends to lovers, angst to fluff

summary . you find out that your crush of three years, Joost Klein, might have a girlfriend, you can't hold onto your feelings anymore.

word count . 2.7k words, 15,6k characters

author's note . i love Selena, i grew up with her music and this song is the bomb. i HAD to make a fic. wanted to make this pure angst but the angel on my shoulder said no. sorry for not uploading, gas leak in my house iususisjhs, also sorry to all the Jazlyns...

These past three years have been an agonizing struggle, concealing your true feelings in the depths of your heart. Having to pretend that you don't see him in a romantic light. During meet-ups with the friend group, you have act as if his light touches don't affect you, that they don't make you think of unspoken actions.

Despite knowing Joost for a decade, it's only recently, three years ago, that you've confronted your true feelings. The realization that your heart yearns for more than just a friendship with him shattered your view of Joost. You recalled of all the time where you dreamt of him. The way he loved you in those dreams made you squeal with excitement, though, you always remind yourself that those are just silly dreams. The weight of this secret is unbearable. No one can know of this, especially Joost.

A year ago, a new addition was made upon the friend circle you are apart of. Appie introduced her into the group, Jazlyn. She quickly found her place among the group, being welcomed with open arms by everyone, which included you. With each gathering from then on, the dynamic shifted, letting her in on the activities the group does. As precious time went by, everyone could see the slight bond between Jazlyn and Joost.

You got word that the two were hanging out privately within nine months of knowing her. There was an unwelcomed feeling in you, jealousy, which was brewing up inside you. The horrid feeling took root within your heart. The thought of Joost being with some else haunted you. When they were seen to have a moment together, shadows filled with doubt and insecurity casted over you.

They were seen as a cute match, flaunted as a picture perfect match. That ignited a volcano of emotion within you, a blend of rage and sorrow. You longed to be the one by his side, to be his perfect match. Yet the shards of your broken heart prevented you from vocalizing your feelings. Your silence was too haunting that Joost couldn't help but notice. He was accustomed to your endless support and enthusiasm, so when you kept to yourself for a few months, he sensed the complete switch.

The announcement of Joost's acceptance into Eurovision was exciting- thrilling. You were overjoyed with happiness, your heart filled with support. You were planning on congratulating him with a typical hug with words of support and love. But before you were able to, Jazlyn took the chance to lunged at him like a leech. She showered him with affection.

She held him in her grasp, not letting Joost go for what felt like two whole minutes, he didn't let go. You hoped he did, but he embraced her as well, pulling his right hand over her. Looking at everyone, then to you. Full eye contacted was made, Joost really could sense something was wrong.

That night, you made a conscious choice to retreat into silence, to shield your heart, sacrificing the warmth of his presence to protect yourself from further pain and heartbreak.

Your interactions with Joost reduced to mere small talk. Despite his much persistent attempts to figure out why you have been so detached, you would dismiss his worries by say, "I'm fine." Yet Joost remained suspicious, you're 'reassurance' was not much help.

You didn't have much courage to confess your feelings knowing something might be happening between Jazlyn and Joost.

You had nothing left other than to just cheer for the two.

All you can do is relegate yourself in the shadows, concealing the overbearing thoughts of Joost. Over the span of two lonely months, you had hope, deep in your soul, that one day he'll return to you- to stay with you. That hope slowly faded, the past two months passed breezily and there was still no confidence in you to speak your mind. Your heart having to play as if you only see him as a friend.

Within the complex code of your feelings, the realization settles in. That you played yourself a fool. You thought the love you had for Joost was to be reciprocated, but amongst more thoughts to yourself, it was truly just banter for Joost. All the jokes about being each others future every things were empty, sweet, nothings.

. year twenty thirteen

"What if I never find a boyfriend?" You say, chewing apart the gummy bear in your mouth into shreds. The scenery ahead of you two was quite beautiful. Joost and you were having a picnic in a near by park. He smiled, his eyes illuminated by the soft hues of the late afternoon. He was on your left, a light chuckles left his lips. "I'm sure you'll find someone charming and handsome, reader!"

"Someone like you?"

you joked, but now that you think back, it wasn't a joke.

He laugh at your quote-on-quote joke, his hands grabbing a gummy bear. "let's make a promise," He shifted to his right so he can fully face you, "If were are still single by the age of... thirty, we'll marry each other!" Your eyes widened, you heart beating a little more faster for some reason. Your hands shaking just a tiny bit.

"How did you come up with his promise?" You tilt your head to the right, your eyes locked with his. "I just want an excuse to be able to marry you." he pauses for your response, but your not quite sure if he's joking or not. He quickly laughed at his own joke so you can tell he wasn't serious.

Something in you wanted him to be serious.

"So?" Joost says, waiting for an answer. "Don't you think thirty is a bit young?" Joost nodded, his right hand placed on your left shoulder just now. "Fine~"

"If we are still single at thirty-five, we will marry each together!" He stuck his hand out, all his fingers down except for his pinky.

You reach for his pinky, interlocking yours with his.

"Alright!! Deal."

. year twenty twenty-four

Eurovision ended, it was an crazy event that was not at all fair. the whole time when Joost was in Sweden, he tried to text you everyday, yet you wouldn't respond. when you do reply, it would be excuses on why you haven't responded. saying that you're busy with producing your latest song, that you are at an event and so on.

Upon Joost's return to the Netherlands a week post-Eurovision, Appie and Stunje orchestrated a small gathering for everyone in the friend group to relax and celebrate the amazing achievement the three men achieved, despite the horrible treatment they got they stood tall. Reminding each other that making it to Eurovision was still a life long goal they had.

As you entered the restaurant selected by Appie and Stunje, the smell of delectable cuisines floated around the establishment lure your senses from the moment you stepped in. Approaching the hostess, you asked if there wads a reservation under the name of Joost. With a gracious smile, she directed your eyes to the spacious booth in the left side of you. You thanked her and walked to the circle booth. In the middle of the circle booth was Joost and Jazlyn, him being on Jazlyn's left side.

As you drew in a breath, a smile graced your lips. Sending a wave to your friends, commencing a exhale with a hint of nervousness. "Hey guys, sorry for being late!" You spoke up so they can hear you through out the other building's noises. Appie's grin enlarged upon your arrival. "No need for apologies, you're five minutes late tops!" He said cheerfully, as the others echoed their reassurances, Appie casually passed you a menu. "Order what you want." He encouraged you to get whatever delight you desired.

The gathering that was ensuing was a nice, relax one. Where everyone was sharing experiences and exchanges. Stunje, Appie, and Joost telling the group about the adventures they had in Sweden, beyond Eurovision. After that you eagerly said details about the latest and upcoming album in the making. The remaining in the group also recounted their own memorable adventures and enjoyed time from the preceding two months.

"To Joost!" exclaimed a friend, lifting their glass of liquor in a toast, prompting others to follow them. In unison, everyone raised their glasses, their voices saying, "To Joost!" With that announcement, they all partook in a sip, sealing the sentiment of celebration.

Some time has now past from the first shot of liquor, what seemed to be around an hour and a half of more and more talking and drinks. Throughout the event, you could feel a pair of eyes on your body. You looked at Joost a couple of times, often catching him staring at you, sometimes he wouldn't look away when you caught him. You often had to be the one looking away.

What was up with him? You think in your mind, the weight of his staring making you start to slouch in your seat. You weren't uncomfortable, you were more curious of why he would staring at you and not Jazlyn.

As the alcohol began to take its effect, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, ushering in a wave of lighthearted banter.

Amidst the hangout, one friend, ventured into more intimate territory. "So, spill, Joost and Jazlyn," they teased, their curiosity peaking. "What really goes down when you guys are alone?"

When the question popped, Joost shifted in his seat, his eyes hovering over you and the friend. Jazlyn seemed to love the question, clearly into him as well. "That's a secret between us!" She exclaimed, hinting to something suggestive. Joost shook his head in defense at her as some quietly yelped an 'oooh'. "Nothing really happened, we accidentally stumbled on each other at a cafe." His defense silenced the people at the table, he soon turned his gaze at you.

An individual detected the palpable tension polluting the atmosphere and drifted the conversation towards more joyful topics. As the subject shifted, so did the collective mood, transitioning into a brighter one. However, despite the huge effort to uplift everyone, your countenance remained stone cold, a hint of heartbreak brewing beneath the surface. Despite your façade of a fake light smile, the searing ache of what really could've between them gnawed at your soul.

You found yourself stuck in your head and loathing- yearning for him still. The desire for his touch in places deemed inappropriate stirred in your head. You wanted him all over you, and you hated yourself for it. Similar thoughts were in Joost's mind, craving to feel your hands upon his body. He wished you were the one clinging on to him, not Jazlyn.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled in your eyes until the ringtone of your phone jolted you back to the present moment. Hastily, you lowered your head to covert your face, also stealing a glance at who was calling, which was Bambie. With a shaky voice, you excused yourself from the table, "I need to take this…" The sadness in your voice betraying you. As you raised your head slightly, Joost's view revealed the glisten of tears in your eyes and the wetness of your left cheek. Rising from your chair, you swiftly answered the call and hurried out of the restaurant.

Your voice quivered slightly as you responded to the call, "Hello?" Stepping outside the establishment, you were met with Bambie's eager greeting, "Hey reader-!!!" However, their sentence trailed off as concern laced their voice. "What happened?" Bambie's voice dripped with worry, ears catching the shiver in your voice that hinted at tears.

"Nothing happened-"

"Do not say that! Tell me the truth."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing that not answering Bambie's questions would be futile.

"It's just Joost. I need to get over him. Jazlyn is clearly into him, and he's probably reciprocates those feelings," The weight of unspoken emotions bearing down on you. Finding solace on a nearby bench along a secluded pathway, you continued,

"I've held these feelings for what feels like a lifetime, yet I've never found the courage to confess. Maybe if I had spoken up years ago… maybe then, I would have stood a chance."

The discourse extended for an additional eight minutes, during which Bambie provided comfort and support. Throughout, a mutual exchange of humor ignited shared laughter. As the conversation drew to a conclusion, Bambie's attention was diverted by another incoming call, ending the conversation with you short.

Once you ended the call, you sat by yourself. The scenery before you was beautiful. Despite the unwavering support offered by Bambie, your heart remained steadfast in its love for Joost.

The thoughts in your head circled back. there was still tears in your eyes. You sighed at looked at your lap, not noticing the person walking up to you.

"You okay?"

You looked up to see who was there.

Joost.

With a swift gesture, you brushed away the traces of your tears, composing yourself and assuming an upright posture. "Yeah, I'm fine," you uttered, averting your gaze from his eyes. In response, he emitted a soft sigh, removing his jacket as he sat next to you. Draping it around your shoulders, "What's really going on?" he persisted, his tone had a twinged with concern, prompting a deeper exploration of your underlying emotions.

"You've been weird since Jazlyn was invited in the friend group."

You rolled your eyes at his try to get you out of your shell. You didn't respond to him, "C'mon reader! Please, tell me..." Joost's voice was very whiny, that made you bite your lip. "Why do you want to know? Go back inside, it's your party after all... you should be there."

"It's not fun without you. I miss you." You look at his eyes, around three inches apart from each others lips.

"I just been busy. It's taken effect on me." You weren't really lying, you have been busy with your new album. Although, that's not the real reason why you were crying today.

"Be honest with me!" He begged you with deep whininess in his voice. "Please."

As you remained motionless, a palpable tension hung in the air, from the intensity of his gaze. His piercing blue eyes wants to see every contour of your body, as if seeking to unravel the deepest secrets of you, imbuing the moment with an undeniable sense of desire.

"We should go back inside." Your asserted dominate. Your stern voice made him widen his eyes for a bit, catching him off guard, before going back to his begging eyes. His fingers lingered to yours momentarily, it was his silent plea of more connection to one another. "I'm begging you reader," He stopped to catch his breath.

"Please, please, please. I won't judge you."

You still didn't have the confidence to confess, yet you were prepared to get rejected. "Joost, I have to confess something."

You breathe in and exhale lightly. "I like you- a lot. I liked you since the day I met you."

His demeanor softened perceptibly, a subtle shift that suggested a newfound sense of ease. "If you don't like me back, I understand-." He stopped you by grabbing your hand. "Can I kiss you?"

"h-huh?"

You stared at him like he was crazy, yet he was still waiting for an answer. "I like you too reader. Since the day we had that picnic... it felt like you've casted a spell on me."

"You remember the promise?" Your heart swelling from his confession. You intertwined your fingers with his, placing both of your guy's hands on your lap.

"Yeah. I was afraid you forgot about." You laugh at that joke. You? Forget that precious moment?

Never.

"Kiss me." You whispered, not having much confidence behind those two words. He smiled, pride and love in his face. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, you and Joost's eyes locked in a silent exchange of longing and anticipation.

He inched his face closer to yours, his free hand was placed on your chin. You couldn't wait any longer, not even a second more. You filled the gap between you, lunging your lips onto his. Your free hand on the back of his head.

Your two's lips met in a tender collision, a symphony of sensation that sent shivers down each person's spine. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the gentle exploration of each other's warmth.

Joost pulled away before coming back for seconds. The small kisses grew more urgent, more steamy. The two lost themselves in the passionate, heated make out session. Them wanting more, to take off the cloth that's covering the parts they want to see.

As they broke off the kiss, their chests rose and fell between seconds. They stared at each other, lust in there eyes, yet loved was the more massive feelings as of right now.

HAD TO CUT IT SHORT OF I WANTED TO FINISH IT. lowkey would've wrote 1k more if i didn't have a deadline for myself. take care guys

[detachedminxsfics]

Motel

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader

Summary: You've grown particularly close with the Motor Inn's personal walker killer and decide to pay his motel room a visit.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, hair pulling, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, gentle dom negan

A/N: If you're from my tiktok (which spawned the chaos that motivated me to finish most of this bc you guys are crazy), hello! This is my first time managing to actually finish and upload a oneshot in months, so I apologise in advance. I was also extremely tired when I wrote most of this, but I hope it was worth the wait for the handful of you bombarding my comment sections for the past 24 hours. 😂 I knew what I had to do the moment I saw that shower scene...like damn.

You downed your third shot of the day before slamming it back down onto the counter and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes idly following the neon lights on the sign hung proudly behind the bar. The Easy Stay Motor Inn. It was a shithole. It only served as a way of keeping four walls and a roof over your head, and walkers off your ass. Speaking of, there was only one guy you'd grown particularly fond of during the month you'd spent working for the lady who owns this place and lapping up the amenities of their accompanying motel, Negan. He wasn't from around here, that much you gathered just by taking one good look at him, but then neither were you. You were both drifters. Heading from one place to the next, never staying anywhere long enough to see it through and find out whether it'd go to shit or hold out long enough before eventually falling to pieces. You just kept moving. That mentality had served you well so far and had kept you alive long enough to say that you'd made it well over a decade into the apocalypse now, not that you had much to show for it.

"Want another?" The guy behind the bar asked, half expecting you to agree to it as you had with all the others and making his way over to the bottle of vodka you'd been chipping away at.

"No thanks", you shook your head with a small smile and slid off the bar stool, "I'm gonna go try to entertain myself someplace else, but don't be surprised if I come back and finish that off later." You gestured to the vodka with a tilt of your head, and the certainty in your tone had the bartender smiling.

You headed towards the backdoor that led to the motel out back, the harsh change of lighting making you squint and shield your eyes to adjust for a moment, the dim vivid hues of the neon-lit windowless bar you'd been sitting in for the past hour or two being snuffed out once you stepped into the natural sunlight. Visual disorientation aside, you made your way down the row of motel rooms lined at your side, your interest only lying with the idea of arriving at one motel room in particular, and you stopped in front of the door when you found it. The door was a stark black to match the wooden panels sitting on either side of the window not too far from the right of the door, vines having wrapped around some of the slats in the wood from the overgrowth of shrubbery on the floor beneath it. It was run down and uncared for like just about anywhere else in this world. You tested the handle to see if the door was unlocked and to your surprise, it was. Twisting it fully you pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind you as you began to observe the interior of the room. It was generically decorated like just about any other room in this place, and he didn't seem to have left anything behind for you to snoop through. The room was so empty that if you didn’t know any better you might have thought that he'd moved on already, packed up all his shit and hit the road. You figured that this was on purpose and probably explained why he didn't care too much when it came to keeping the door locked since he didn't have any shit to steal. Smart.

Negan hadn't been around for too long now, in fact, he'd only arrived about a week after you, but he left a lasting first impression. He was useful. He pulled his weight by taking care of any of the walkers that roamed or wandered into the perimeter of the motor inn, and was never bad company on the occasions that he'd sat on the bar stool next to you and made conversation. As time went on you'd gotten closer and more comfortable with one another, and you quickly found yourself noticing that Negan was the one person you'd opened up to the most in the duration of your entire stay here, better yet felt the most comfortable doing so with. Your vulnerability wasn't one-sided, either. He never went into an awful load of detail, but he had a bad past. He wasn't on the run per se, but there was a group of people that he was hoping to avoid the possibility of encountering for the rest of his days, a community that he had a difficult history with. He alluded to what seemed to mostly amount to horrible shit that most people had done by now just to stay alive, the kind of things you see at night when you close your eyes, haunting you from the backs of your eyelids. You paid it no mind, and you told him that too; he seemed to appreciate your lack of judgement. Gradually, the conversations grew more personal and not so casual, things got flirty. It was subtle, but Negan would make small coy comments on things that you say, or little compliments now and again that toed the line a tad too much for what could be considered harmless flattery or him shooting his shot. You were able to keep yourself humble up until the night when he had jokingly mentioned how good your ass looked in your jeans after more than a few drinks, not that he needed it to let you know just how much he was checking you out. Your thoughts were interrupted by the twist of the doorknob and the sight of it being pushed open afterwards, revealing a rather sluggish and slightly dishevelled-looking Negan. Negan had a silver beard that he seemed to keep well-maintained, the hair decorating his top lip thicker than the rest. His dark hair was always slicked, though it seemed to have transitioned to more of an ashy brown over time with grey tinging at the sides of his hair. He was ruggedly handsome, that was for sure. A grin crept onto his lips when he noticed you standing by one of the beds, closing the door behind him and running his hand through his hair, slicking some of the strands that had fallen out of place in the process.

"Just letting yourself into my place now, huh? We graduating from drinking buddies to whatever the hell this is?" He quipped but was amused by how bold you were to just waltz on into his motel room.

"It's not like you don't want me here." You remarked with a knowing smile as you sat on the end of one of the double beds, to which Negan chuckled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, a seemingly small mannerism of his that always drove you wild.

"Touché."

He sauntered to the bed next to you until he stood at the foot of it and started to shrug off his leather jacket with a sigh.

"Well whatever it is honey, it's gonna have to wait. I have been out there cracking rotting skulls for who knows how long, and now I need a damn shower."

The checkered flannel shirt he'd been wearing open underneath it was next, him tossing it on the bed in front of him before his fingers brush over the hem of his black tank top. He glanced at you with the material still pinched between his fingertips, a cocky smile creeping onto his lips as he noticed the way you were shamelessly staring at him and didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.

"You gonna watch me strip now too, darlin'?"

You playfully shrugged and let your eyes wander down his torso, an eye movement Negan most certainly followed judging by the way his smile grew, as did his ego.

"I can turn around if you're too shy, Negan."

The throaty chuckle he let loose was almost immediate, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Me, shy? Fuck no. You can stare your little heart out, and you would most definitely be staring."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected him to take it with such pride, so you caved and turned so you were facing the wall next to the bed. You could hear the sounds of clothes falling against the sheets and the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, and then the zipper on his leather pants.

"You still thinking of sticking it out here for a bit longer? I know last time we spoke you weren't so sure." Negan muttered as he got his pants down to his ankles and started to try to shake his ankles out of them.

You thought for a moment, then sighed a little.

"I think so? I don't know, I'm just trying to go day by day. Why, would you miss me?" Your tone picked up towards the end as did the enthusiasm in your voice, the suggestion making Negan's sudden laughter start in the form of a snort.

"Miss you? Shit, course I would. I'd probably move on from here after that."

You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself unable to form the right words. He made it sound like you were the only reason he was still staying here, and that without you there'd just be no point. You didn't ask him to elaborate though, just silently rolled the thought around in your head.

"Well, time to take that shower. I'll be right back, and I don't know maybe we can grab a drink or some shit afterwards?"

"Sure." You mumbled in response.

After that all you heard was the soft tread of his footsteps as he made his way past you and into the bathroom, then the sound of the water being turned on and beginning to crash against the floor of the shower for a few moments before it became more muffled with Negan's body interrupting the stream, and you turned back to face something other than the blank yellow wall you'd be staring at whilst he was stripping. You did your best to focus on the small details of the room to occupy your head, the peculiar framed pictures decorating some of the walls, and the hideous design choices when it came to the taste of the room, but it was no use. All you could think about was what Negan had looked like underneath all those clothes when he was a mere few feet behind you, and what he looked like right now standing in the shower in the very next room, the image of water droplets trailing down his torso and body making it harder to stay seated with every passing second until you just couldn't take it anymore. You stood to your feet and made your way to the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a moment as you stopped in your tracks. The shower had a sliding door that Negan had slid shut, the distortion of the glass still allowing you to be able to make out the sight of him with his head tilted town and one of his palms pressed up against the wall, and the tattoo decorating his shoulder blade. There was no turning back now, you had made up your mind. You approached the glass and gave it a soft knock, the sound startling Negan a little as he turned and slid the glass just enough for him to lean into the gap he'd made.

"Everything okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice as he used his other hand to sweep some of the hair that had fallen into his face back in place.

Your only response was the sight of your fingertips grasping the hem of your top before you pulled it over your head, holding the top in your hands for a moment as you gazed at him, trying to gauge Negan's reaction to your now exposed breasts. He seemed taken aback for a moment or two, and then his eyes darkened with lust.

"Can I join you?" You asked, fingers teasingly dancing along the waistband of your jeans as though you could tell by just the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to deny your offer.

He didn't.

"Fuck yeah you can." He rasped with a shit-eating grin, leaning back and pushing the sliding glass all the way open to make room for you to join him.

You stripped until there was nothing left, discarding all of your clothes into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor and stepping into the shower with him. The first thing you noticed was the heat. The steam from the hot water, the heat coming from Negan's body, all of it swarming your body with warmth. Then, him. All of him. From the water droplets falling from the scruff of his beard, the dark hair decorating his chest and trailing down the centre of his torso, and even the skull tattoo inked on the right side of his chest. The man was gorgeous. Your eyes dragged down his body, drinking in every inch of him until you got to the part you'd been anticipating most, but were interrupted. He cupped the underside of your jaw and urged your head back up, his thumb brushing along your chin as the tip of his thumb traced just along the edge of your bottom lip.

"You like what you're seeing, huh?" He seemed to be making more of a statement than genuinely asking, but you entertained him nonetheless.

"A lot." You replied simply, the intense and lustful look your eyes were lit with corrupting your stare as your eyes bore into his.

"Good."

He used the hold on your jaw to guide your lips to his, his lips claiming yours. The hand that had been cupping your chin moved to grasp the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip and drawing your body against his. You could feel him hard against your thigh as he groaned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste him and his hands keeping you pressed firmly against his body, your own hands beginning to wander from the top of his chest down to his abdomen. The water cascading down his shoulders caressed along your fingertips and down your breasts, the warm water trailing down your body whilst he continued to move his lips against yours until you couldn't breathe, and you were forced to pull back for air. The moment you did Negan dove his head into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips against your pulse point, gently sucking the skin there and occasionally teasing it between his teeth in a way that was sure to leave marks, his beard scratching along your jaw as he did. The attention he paid your neck had your hand rushing up the nape of his neck and into his hair, combing your fingers through the back before taking a fistful of his wet strands. The slight tension on his scalp and the way your breath was shaking right by his ear made him pause for a moment to smile against your skin, a hoarse chuckle following shortly thereafter. The warmth of his breath from the laugh felt hot on your skin, and you used the strands of hair you'd taken in your palm to urge his head back until his face was inches from yours again. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip when you found your voice.

"You've thought about this before haven't you, fucking me?"

His brows raised at your boldness, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

"Damn right I have. I'd have to be blind or crazy not to, you are easy on the eyes, darlin'."

"Oh?" You tilted your head as you feigned mock surprise, his eyes looking you over like you were good enough to eat, and you might just let him.

Slowly you leaned in and seductively ran your tongue over his lips, finishing with a small kittenish flick at his top lip before leaning back. You soaked up the wanton look in his gaze when you sank to your knees, your eyes locked with his all the while. Now kneeling on the floor of the shower you reached up and closed your hand around his shaft, the way his breath caught in his throat once he felt your touch giving you the encouragement you needed to lean in and run your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. As you licked at it you felt Negan's fingers stroke over your hair before he started to gather it in his hand, all of your hair soon clutched into his fist like a makeshift ponytail.

"Don't be a tease." He warned as he slid his free hand underneath your chin and cupped it, allowing him to use both the grip on your hair and your jaw to urge you forward.

Willingly your lips parted, his cock sliding past your lips and into your mouth.

"Fuuuck, there we go." Negan slurred as he slid further into your mouth, stopping just before he reached your throat.

He grunted once you flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft and leant forward, bracing one of his hands against the tiled wall of the shower when he lowered his head to look at you.

"Shit, you look so good with a mouthful of cock." He rasped crudely with the dirtiest smile before pushing himself down your throat, and you fought the urge to gag as he did.

He started to move his hips, the motion prompting you to place your hands just above his knees for support whilst he slid in and out of your throat. Soon enough tears began to well in your eyes, the urge to choke too great as you finally gagged on him, the sensation making Negan momentarily screw his eyes shut before sliding out of your mouth. He let you breathe for a moment or two before he was already pushing down your throat again, his groans getting louder and deeper with every thrust.

"Ohh, good girl." He cooed, his sounds of pleasure gradually turning into a blatant string of curses as he repeatedly thrust down your throat, and you shamelessly took every single inch.

Eventually, the movement of his hips got slower, his moans getting louder until finally his hips stuttered and his abdomen began to tense. He tightened his grip on your hair, the harsh grasp burning your scalp, and then you felt the hot wet spurts of warm liquid coating your tongue. You waited until you knew he'd spilt every last drop and then carefully removed him and swallowed his release, your breath a little laboured whilst Negan hovered above you with totally ragged, uneven breath, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to come down from the high of his orgasm. A few tears had escaped your waterline and slid down your cheeks as he fucked your throat, but it had mixed with the occasional stream of water trickling down your face from the shower.

"You did so good, baby. So good." He praised as he finally released your hair from his hand and started gently running his fingers through it instead, his touch soothing some of the pain he'd inflicted upon your scalp.

You stayed like that for a moment just listening to the sound of the water until you felt his hand leave your hair and the sight of him extending it out in front of you for you to take, which you did. He helped you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist the second you straightened your back, his mouth crashing against yours and allowing him to taste himself on your lips, the urgency with which he kissed you making you moan into the kiss a little. Whilst he stole your air Negan guided you backwards until your back came to press against the steamy tiled wall, the condensation pooling on the tiles smearing against your skin, and the faint coolness to it making you gasp. You wrapped your arms around Negan's neck to draw him in closer, your hips subconsciously moving to bring your groin against his and allowing his still proudly hard cock to brush against your inner thigh. You broke the kiss to try to regulate your unsteady breathing, leaning back just enough so that your lips were practically still brushing, the hot heavy pants Negan breathed against your lips making you need him all the more.

"Negan?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you inside me."

He couldn't hold back the dangerous look his eyes filled with when you whispered exactly what you needed, an arrogant look in his eye as he leaned back and cockily smiled.

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart. C'mere."

He slid his hands all the way up the backs of your thighs, towards your outer thigh, and then took hold of your hips. The gesture prompted you to do a small jump that allowed Negan to hoist you up and trap you between the wall and his body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to cup your ass. In one calculated movement Negan lined himself up and sank inside you, the way you stretched around him eliciting a filthy moan from your lips almost immediately.

"That feel good, baby?" He purred, his voice full of arrogance.

He knew it did, he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes, god yes." Was all you could manage as he set a hard and intense pace, drawing all the way out before slamming back inside you, the feeling of fullness with every thrust making your mouth fall open.

One of your hands slid down his chest, his dark chest hair brushing up against your fingers as you did, whilst the other slid up his shoulder and moved to rest on the nape of his neck. His fingers were digging into your skin with the grip he had on you, strands of your hair clinging to the condensation of the tiled walls as you slightly threw your head back, uncontrollable sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips from the way he roughly fucked into you. The overwhelming sensation caused you to idly weave your fingertips in the hair at the top of his neck and run your hands through the back of his hair, occasionally tugging at it when he buried himself especially deep and you could do nothing but squirm in his grip. The water was still running just off to Negan's side, the hot water wasting onto the floor and creating a small pool at his feet. With the way you'd angled your body it allowed him to lean in and lick a stripe up the valley between your breasts, your skin feverishly hot against his tongue as he gathered some of the water droplets and left nothing but a trail of spit before beginning to kiss up your throat. He littered your neck with kisses, moving his affections to the side of your neck before planting a few kisses along your jaw, his stubble scratching along the side of your face all the while. It felt like heaven. You couldn't think about anything other than his touch, the way his mouth shamelessly marked your skin, the sounds of his heavy breath and the guttural groans spilling from his throat like music to your ears. By this point your sweet moans grew to resemble sobs, your legs slightly shaking in his hold as Negan thrust into you over and over, and a feeling started to burn in the pit of your stomach unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Negan." was all you managed to choke out, practically in the form of a cry.

All you felt was his lips claiming yours, and the occasional parting of your lips just enough for him to whisper into the kisses.

"I got you, I got you, baby." He swore over and over, his gentle reassurance paired with his hard thrusts tipping you completely over the edge, and your whimpers getting lost in his heated kisses.

You feel the knotting in your abdomen just before everything comes crashing over you, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you clench around him as Negan continues to fuck you throughout your high, your mind hazed with overstimulation. Eventually his movements began to stutter, his abdomen clenching amidst the deep v-lines framing his hips, and a string of gravelly curses poured from his mouth. Carefully, Negan unwrapped one of your legs from his waist and urged you to set it down on the floor of the shower, the other still wrapped around his hips as he held it there. His free hand moved down to his shaft, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes until he finally came. His hold on your leg became more of a firm squeeze as he threw his head back a little and grunted, liquid splashing over the top of your inner thigh and beginning to gradually trickle down your leg. The bathroom was full of steam now, the air thick with humidity and both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments you felt Negan place your other leg down, his release still dribbling down your skin as you tried to come down from your incalculable high. His breath evened out a little, his eyes still half-lidded when his hazel eyes locked with yours, his gaze capturing you amidst the knowing grin playing on his lips. You were totally fucked out, and the sight made him chuckle.

"That good, huh?" He teased with raised brows, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip making you playfully roll your eyes and manage a small laugh.

"Shut up."

You'd give credit where credit is due, the man knew what he was doing, but you couldn't allow yourself to stroke his almost nauseating large ego any further. He shook his head with a smile, both of his hands smoothing over your waist and then taking hold of it, using it to lead you towards him. You let him coax you to the space closer to the shower head, the water now splashing directly against the back of his neck and trailing down his body, droplets of water simultaneously forming along Negan's jawline and repeatedly falling from his wet beard. He kept one hand on your waist whilst the other held one side of your face, his eyes boring into yours. His head tipped forward so he could rest his forehead against yours, water sliding down his neck when he started to speak in almost a whisper at first.

"If I hit the road, I want you to come with me."

You thought you may have not heard him right at first and leant back with slightly wide eyes, shock etched into your features.

"Really?" You muttered.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed, the stare you shared serving as more of an answer than any words you could utter, but you parted your lips to speak and did anyhow.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[xxblairexxss]

Doudou (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 (Charles’s ending)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader / Lando Norris x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

I couldn’t choose so I’m gonna make you guys miserable too. Second part is very connected to the 1st one so please give that a read first so you can understand this one better. I covered and explained more about her relationship with Charles’s from his side that were left hanging in the first part. Read until the end, I left a note down there where I pointed out small details that you might have missed! Happy reading! p/s: I read all the comments and reblogs and I really appreciate every single one of you I’m so so glad you guys liked the 1st one <3 thank youu! Sorry if you are not a fan of long fics I got carried away ;;

You never mentioned or uploaded anything that were ties with Charles. You were not a public figure, you weren’t even famous. You were just someone who got the public attention because your first love happened to be a Formula 1 driver. Whatever happened in private, should remain as it was. So, you just continued with your life, in fact, you did it so perfect that to the public, it seemed like the broke up didn’t stain any sides.

Your friendship with other drivers didn’t budged even after what had happened. You were friends with some of them since you guys were kids because you used to attend FiA Karting Wold Cup for Charles. One of the drivers that had been with you since the beginning was Lando. He didn’t live in Monaco back then so he was just a familiar face to you and an occasional “Hi, Lando!” and “Bye, Lando. See you next time!” but you always found yourself in a long conversation whenever you met him, there was always things to talk about.

When Charles came into the paddock with someone else, Lando was the first person to call you. It was obvious then that Charles didn’t tell anyone else about what happened because if he did, Lando would have called you sooner.

“Lando? Hi!”

Lando was hanging around the Mclaren’s hospitality lounge area when he hit the call button and it was at the exact moment he saw Charles and his new girl walked past his building. What were the odds of that happened. Judging the way you greeted him, he would have had no idea something happened between you and Charles if he didn’t saw the event earlier but he knew you very well to know despite the jolly tone, you kept a lot of unspoken words.

“Y/N, hey. I—uhm..” fuck, he was going to ask about about Charles but you sounded so ebullient he didn’t have the heart to ask.

But he wasn’t prepared for any topics either.

“Lando..?

“I—just wanted to talk about what happened in practice session yesterday.” He crunched up his face in discomfort. That was embarrassing.

“Oh, sure! What happened?”

You shared more texts and phone calls with Lando after the sudden, random one where he talked about the car’s break and throttle. He ended up telling you about Charles’s new girl and you told him what happened, but it was just a brief and short one. You didn’t want to make Charles looked bad to anyone else. What he did to you didn’t make him a bad friend to Lando.

So you knew he had a new girl, even before the Japan Grand Prix. Part of you was actually hoping to see him with his new girl when you attended the grand prix just so you could see the smile that you always received for like a quarter of your life. At least you could see the way the wrinkles around his eyes became more visible as the ends of his lips curved and the loop sided dimples even if it wasn’t meant for you.

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“That tickles.” Charles chortled and leaned his face away.

“No, stay still.” You furrowed your brows as you scooted closer to carry on tracing his dimples. “You are so pretty.”

Charles hummed in response and brought one hand to cup on your cheeks. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” He had always loved when you laid down on him whenever he took a spot on the couch. He loved analysing your facial features up closed, the way your eyes seemed twinkled as the light reflected on them. Made him wonder why kind of good deeds he did in his past to be gifted a chance to be with you.

“Yeah, my boyfriend always makes sure I never forget that.” You giggled in response and poked on his dimple that you had been tracing.

“Your boyfriend is one lucky man, isn’t he?” He moved his hand from cupping your cheek to pulling your hand away from his face to leave a peck on your palm. “Now stop playing with my dimples and let me adore my beloved girlfriend.”

kymillman

Liked by 103,547 others

kymillman Ferrari F1 driver has arrived in the paddock for the last practice session of the season!

username we haven’t seen charlotte for a while now

username Last race let’s go!!

username Charlotte went to 5 races and then just vanished

f1wags_

Liked by 16,723 others

f1wags_ Last race of the season and we expected to see charlottesiine in the paddock as it was a significant race but Charles was seen arriving at the paddock for the main race all alone again. What do you think?

username I think we should just focus on the race :)

username this is a gossip page bruh

username Is it true Y/N is attending? Can someone confirm this? Saw it all over Twitter

f1wags_ We are waiting for more pictures before we can confirm her attendance !

username omg i hope it’s true i missed them together 😭

kymillman

Liked by f1updates_ and 197,265 others

kymillman Y/N spotted today not as someone’s childhood sweetheart, not as Ferrari’s VIP but as Mclaren’s! Love to see you back in the paddock, ynusername!

username She’s baaacckkkkk

username mcclaren??? lando 👀👀

username ooff i need charles’s reaction anyone got any tea to share

username she never failed to slay all paddock pictures

username charles wake up and look what you missed

Lando has invited you to attend this week’s race in Abu Dhabi, the last race of the season. You were on a break and a visit to the paddock wouldn’t hurt anyone.

You didn’t worry about Charles because he had been ignoring your existence for like half a year so he obviously would continue doing so. The paddock was not small at that, you wouldn’t even bumped into him even if you wished for it.

So you didn’t know he had arrived alone in the paddock. No girl in sight.

But he saw you. You looked amazing, you always did but he hadn’t seen your face for so long, the face he had always admired up-close. He had asked a help from one of his team to pass you a packet of Maltesers and sparkling maple water from one specific brand that he had always brought for you because you liked munching on something. He could have done it himself if he wasn’t too busy catching interview after interview as this was the last race before the season ended. Not that he had prepared it beforehand because he didn’t even knew you were coming to the race. But he had always kept those two items with him. Not that he wished he would bumped into you anywhere else, though a part of him might wished for it, but it was because over the years of being with you, he himself had subconsciously grew to like those two things. Maltesers and sparkling maple water from a brand called Drink Simple, a brand that no one knew about.

You took the snack and the beverage from the Ferrari guy. The Ferrari uniform kinda gave it away so you knew it was from him but you still took it, because you could never so no to Maltesers and your favourite beverage from the one brand no one knew about, except Charles.

“I’ll get going first. My flight is like in 6 hours.” Soon as the race ended, you had walked up to Lando and gave him a hug before rushing back to your hotel to catch your flight home to Monaco. Tomorrow would be your best friend’s birthday and you could never, ever miss it.

“Alright, Y/N. Take care! I’ll see you soon.” Lando hugged you back and brushed his lips against your temple before rushing his way back to catch up with the interviews.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Lando.”

“Charles. What’s up?” Lando gave the lad a nod of acknowledgement and went back tying his shoelaces.

“Have you seen dou—“

“Y/N?” Lando stood up to look at his mate. He wasn’t gonna pull up a fight. He wasn’t gonna act like there was anything different between them after everything you told him. He held himself because he knew you would be sad if he did follow his heart that was full with rage.

“Yeah. Y/N. Have you seen her? Can I talk to her?”

“Mate, she went home. You won’t find her here.”

“Right. It must be for her friend’s birthday. I’ll get going. Thank you.” Charles was about to walked away when Lando called him out.

“Charles,”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you should talk to her. Not right now. She seems to be slowly finding herself back. If you really want to talk, you should have done that months ago when she was in your way.”

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landonorris

Liked by ynusername and 369,233 others

landonorris P6. Points on the board. Happy days

username Congrats Lando!! ❤️

username so happy for you 🥹🧡

username Is that Y/N?

username is that who I think is is

ynusername

Liked by landonorris, and 167,548 others

ynusername So grateful to be in the paddock for the last race of the season 🧡

username PRETTY

username She’s the GIRL ❤️

username it feels weird not seeing you in red

username that picture of lando 🥹🥹

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Charles had lost himself nearly the end of last year’s season. He went from chasing the World Driver Championship to fighting to be in the top 10. When he got to winter break, he pulled himself away from you, from your comfort because he kept so many problems, so many worries in his head it became a mess. When he had you in his arms, when you asked him about his day, his concerns, his feelings, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t want to load everything on you because you had your own problems. He didn’t know why. You had always been his home, his home that he had always felt safe but his insecurity won over him. He thought he did the right thing so he bursted when you questioned his act, making it seemed as if none of his effort actually worked to fight for the relationship.

But he didn’t meant anything he said to you that night. He walked out because he heard you start sobbing when you ran into the room and he couldn’t stop beating himself. He never made you cry before. He failed at being a driver his late father wished him to be and now he failed at being your boyfriend.

But he was a coward so he walked out, he walked out of the apartment because he couldn’t believe what he just said to you, a blessing in his life. He was a coward because he couldn’t bring himself to contact you for months because every time he clicked on your contact number, he would be reminded of your cries and felt like he didn’t deserve to be in your life again.

Charles still wanted to talk to you even after what Lando had told him. He went to your apartment, you weren’t there. He called you but you have changed your phone number. He sent you a message on Instagram only to find out you had blocked him.

Luck seemed to be on his side when he had bumped into you weeks after all of his attempts. He saw you sitting on bench nearby the yatch club in your gym set, you surely had just finished your workout session like you always did every week but he couldn’t find you sooner because you booked sessions with a new fitness instructor.

“Doudou.”

“Charles?”

You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you knew your heart was calling out for him but you weren’t prepared to meet him after your workout session, when you were literally in sweat.

And you weren’t prepared to hear what he said. The answer to the question that you had asked him that night.

“I thought what I did was saving us but it ruined everything. It wasn’t my intention to threw you, threw us away but I felt so, so fucking stupid, so helpless. You were never a burden to me. I didn’t mean any words I said that night.” He didn’t look at you, he couldn’t look at you because he was too embarrassed and your Charles would always looked into your eyes whenever he could because

he loved how they seemed to be twinkled whenever they hit the ray of light

So you knew he was still beating himself for it.

“And the girl?”

“She was apart of my friend’s group. I knew her weeks after what happened between us. We didn’t date, she wasn’t anyone to me and she knew it too. We didn’t do anything, we didn’t even hold hands. I knew deep down she wished we had something more but I couldn’t bring myself to love anyone else other than you. I knew from the moment I was capable of loving someone, it would be you and it will always be you, doudou.”

“All it took for you that night was to tell me you were afraid, that you just wanted me to hold you and I would, Charles. In an instant. Instead, you walked away and you shoved me out of your life like I meant nothing to you, like all those acts and words over the years were all lies. Did you know how long I waited for you to come back after you stormed out that night? I stayed in the living room, all alone in the dark hoping for any sound of footsteps to be the sound of my boyfriend, for him to walk right through the door, to tell me he was sorry but you didn’t come back. I felt like our friendship, our relationship didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me. Was I…not worth the risk, Charles?” You didn’t let out a wail or a sob, you were just crying silently, your gym tights around the thighs started having spotted wet stains from your tears but you didn’t cry as much as you did when you waited for him in the dark that night.

Charles didn’t reply. He was quite. He knew you deserved more but he was done being a coward and needed to be selfish for once. “I’m sorry for the way I hurt you. Sorry for everything I did that led us to this point. And I get it, you know, if you hate me. But I need to tell you, I want you to know that even when I was completely fucked up, I never once stopped loving you. I didn’t called or texted you after that night because I never wanted to be the person that brought any more pain into your life. All I ever wanted to do was love you. I stared at your pictures, rewatched our silly videos before I slept every night because I couldn’t fall asleep without admiring you in my arms.”

You didn’t reply and Charles didn’t say anything. He looked so miserable but you bet you looked no different. And then he you heard him said,

“Can you…give me another chance to fix us? Please.”

“I can’t take you back and pretend as if nothing happened because it still hurts, Charles. I was told I was a burden to someone I have loved with all my life. I—please give me some time.“ Tears fell again, so you spinned away, pressing your fingers against your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You tried to hold yourself though a part of you wanted to reach out to him. Then you felt him pulling you into his arms, his chin tucked on your head like a perfect piece as it always had been.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. It’s my fault and there’s no excuses that would validate any of my acts or words. Please lean on me. Let me hold you when you needed to be held this time.”

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You and Charles went back on talking term. You had unblocked him on Instagram, he didn’t text or call you everyday because you had told him you needed space and he respected that. Part of you was happy that you got your Charles back. Guess you just had to wait and see how the future held for both of you.

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Lando came to your apartment a few days after you had a talk with Charles. He had asked you for a night out but your social battery was too drain to go anywhere so he came over with pizzas and diet coke. You prefered regular coke but diet coke will do.

“Hey, what’s that?” Lando pointed out the product you had in your hand along with a weird looking spatula. You thought he would be here in an hour so you were going to put on your face mask first. Not sure if he came too early or you took a long time in the shower but regardless, you didn’t have enough time to put it on.

“Ah, this? I was going to put on a face mask before you came..”

“Let’s put it on then! My face could use some treatment. Can you put it on me?”

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Giggles and laughters could be heard not from the living room with the boxes of pizzas, it came from the bathroom. Lando had a hard time staying still because the face mask was so cold, he couldn’t understand how something that came out from the tube could be this cold to skin as if you had froze it.

“Lando, stay still you gonna get it in your eyes!” You slapped on his arm that had caged you around your legs as you sat on the table top.

“My eyes could do some treatment too they have been really dry.” He laughed.

He insisted on putting it on you back even when you told him that you could put it on yourself so you tied up your hair in a ponytail, a few stands of loose hair drooped around your face. “Okay, now you can put it on. Just don’t get it on my hair, okay. I literally just washed it. Lando…?”

He blinked, too dazed that he felt like he got the wind knocked out of him. You are heavenly and divinely breathtaking.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes looked like it twinkled?”

“Your eyes are twinkling, doudou.”

You were taken aback and gave a small nod in retun. “Yeah, I think I have heard that before.”

“You have such a mesmerising eyes, Y/N.” Lando never had a chance to look at you this close, he had never seen the freckles around your nose, never knew you had a small spot under your eyes. Beautiful.

But he had seen a picture of you on your boyfriend’s— ex-boyfriend’s wallpaper from an angle that he knew was taken from when you were laying on his chest, where it seemed like you were asleep as you had your eyes closed. Charles had that picture of yours on his wallpaper for the longest time ever and he saw it couple of times when they hung out together, when a notification popped up and his phone lighted up. Charles always had a chance to look at your beautiful face up-close.

Charles you lucky bastard.

landoprivate

Liked by 8 others

landoprivate an angel put a face mask on me. it was cold I don’t think I liked it but I would do it all over again if that is what it takes for me to stare at her face up close again

landonorris has added to their story

Your night with Lando was a quite one. You don’t share words that much, just an occasional questions and arguments about the movie.

“How could he do that? Like, try pull my hair.” He pulled the hood of his hoodie off and moved his body forward to allow you to pull on his soft curly hair.

“See? My arms didn’t moved like Linguini’s. They should have came up with something more…logical…for an animation.”

Or something like

“You know, Lando. Ratatouille looks really good until you find out it was just slices of vegetables.”

“That was like a scam, wasn’t it? I would feel so betrayed if my mom gave me that without telling me what it actually was.”

“But it’s good!”

“It’s veggies, Y/N.”

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The movie ended and there will still a box of pizza left unopened. Lando had bought different kind of toppings for the pizzas but none of them were your favourite kind but you still ate them, it wasn’t like you were a picky eater. The pizzas were good but you could have eaten more if it was your favourite one.

“Lando, I’m sorry if I ruined your night. You could be having lots of fun dancing in the club, having proper conversations with people instead of spending your Friday night wearing face mask, watching a movie about a rat and we only talked about silly stuffs.” You felt these kind of things would be uneventful to him, because you always did this with Charles, and you felt like Lando was forcing himself to do what you wanted because you said so.

“I never felt like I’m wasting my time with you, Y/N. None of the phone calls we had where we talked about silly stuffs ever made me feel like I’m wasting my time ever. We could sit in silence for hours and it would still feel so full, so good and so necessary. I’m thankful for you.”

Would you go back to the guy who knew you more than you knew yourself, a guy who had been there with you through different stages of your life, a guy that was there with you from when you were naive, a guy that taught you love that was full of dreams and hopes.

Or would you give a chance to the guy that was still learning about your favourite food, your favourite color, a guy that will teach you a mature love, a guy that you knew would have the power to break your heart if you choose to trust him.

Small details you might have missed! ;Charles knew the reader had to rush home because it was her friend’s birthday. Reader didn’t tell Lando about it but Charles knew. ;Charles could have find reader sooner if she sticked to her old routine because he knew her too well ;Lando didn’t know reader preferred regular coke, he didn’t know her favourite pizza topping but he knew her eyes would occasionally twinkled under the ray of light, just like Charles knew.

[psychesalcove]

„ i think we're one of the same, i don't think we could help it (no i don't think we could help it) ”

𝜗𝜚 headcanons with percy with a child of amphitrite and their dynamic!!

requested: yes, by anon !!

⚠️: not proofread AT ALL, percy being sassy as usual, nothing else i believe!!

💬: thank you so much for the request anon!! I decided to do some headcanons with this, which I hope is okay with you—if not, feel free to send in another ask and I'll get to writing it!! ALSO i thought i had uploaded it but i just saved it to my drafts, so im so sorry for not seeing my mistake sooner!!

𖹭 some background info on this, amphitritea is the wife of poseidon—so this dynamic would be like step siblings in my mind, so that's what I'm going on!!

𖹭 when you first got to camp, percy emideantaly felt like he should get to know you–he didn't know why, but something about you seemed familiar in a way he couldn't place

𖹭 so ofc, like the social butterfly he is, he goes up to you and introduces himself to you,

𖹭 you already know of him bc of the whole savior of olympus and forbidden child thing going on, but you introduce yourself to him

𖹭 he invites you to sit with him so you don't have to be dangling off the hermes table bc of all his kids, and you happily agree

𖹭 the next few days, you are off doing your own things, but you and percy still say hi and stuff when you see eachother

𖹭 about a week has passed since you arrived, and still no sign from your godly parent

𖹭 and, literally no one could figure out who's kid you might be (even my girl annabeth was struggling with you)

𖹭 it was canoe race day, and you got paired up with percy (he def didn't beg Mr. D to have you in his group)

𖹭 you and percy were doing well in it (obv since he's a literal child of the sea), and you two ended up winning

𖹭 and, as percy moved to high-five you, a familiar blue glow appeared above you,

𖹭 you look up, and see a symbol of twin dolphins, the sign of Amphitrite, the wife of poseidon

𖹭 both you and percy were both shocked (probably him more than you)

𖹭 but, he quickly got over his shock and high fived you super hard

𖹭 "you're my sibling oh my gods oh my gods!!"

𖹭 he's like actually so happy when you got claimed

𖹭 but, he knows it can be hard getting used to being in a cabin alone after being with the hermes kids, so he helps you all he can

𖹭 this includes him helping you decorate your space, either with Polaroids of you and your mortal parents and friends, getting fairy lights hung up, and getting some stuffed animals on your bed, and a lot more things

𖹭 he wants you to know that you can always come to him for anything at all!! Even if it is a crush (even tho he knows you would go to piper for that)

𖹭 he would have so much fun introducing you to Tyson,

𖹭 like the three of you would be besties omg

𖹭 you and percy would also do that trend where you make bracelets with eachothers eye color (tyson would have one 2 don't worry 🙏)

𖹭 and both of you would religiously wear them and almost never take them off unless it's deemed unsafe to be wearing)

𖹭 percy would also make you practice with him, mainly bc he wants to be sure that you are prepared if any monster invasion happens or you get sent on a quest

𖹭 on the topic of a quest, he would be like a dad with a teenager going to their first dance or party

𖹭 he's actually so worried for you and what could happen; he's constantly asking if you have everything packed, if you brought enough ambrosia, etc.

𖹭 he'll def talk to chiron and Mr D abou the quest saying that he should also be able to go on it

𖹭 and then he gets all pissy when he can't come

𖹭 he's like: "wdym I can't go with them ☹️🙄😠"

𖹭 ALSO sally absolutely adores you

𖹭 he brought you over to his apartment for the first time and introduced Sally to you and BAM

𖹭 sally now has three kids, along with paul

𖹭 she's also worried whenever you have to go on quests, she makes you food and gets everything you need ready like omg I need sm like her

𖹭 you and percy have also definitely gone to some type of water park and just like,

𖹭 bullied all of the kids there with your water powers

𖹭 but then u guys get kicked out for being too loud and in the lifeguards words, "loitering"

𖹭 you both had to look that word up on Google afterwards

𖹭 percy and you also have sleepovers sooo often

𖹭 mr D at first tried to get you 2 to stop having them

𖹭 but you guys were like "we're siblings we share the same cabin wdym we have to be in different cabins 🤨🤨"

𖹭 percy and you also have beds set up in eachothers cabin that's just, yours or his bed

𖹭 and when you have the sleepovers, the two of you make the best pillow fort known to kind (you probably got the idea from annabeth)

𖹭 on the topic of annabeth, you two would emideantaly become besties

𖹭 percy will never tell either of you but he got a bit jealous of you guys when you first met

𖹭 you'll probably become friends with all of the 7 bc of your relationship with percy (I say that the 7 are all friends no one could make me think otherwise)

𖹭 percy and you have little hangouts where you chill at the bottom of the lake and just chat ab anything — even with the animals down there

𖹭 the two of you also have def went to an aquarium and made everyone think your psychos bc you talked to all of the animals there

𖹭 overall, percy thinks of you as his sibling, and loves knowing that you'll always have eachothers side <3

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: has it been less then 24 hours? Yes. Am I still gonna upload this? Yes. Hehe. Don’t wanna spoil anything but y’all will enjoy the chapter. Haven’t been proofread so excuse any typos or grammar mistakes. Miguel might be ooc. Also I’ll probably take a day or 2 off from posting after this lol.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Cursing. Not anything else lol.

Word count: 1.5k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8: ‘Cause there’s this tune I found, that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat.

—

“Again.”

…

“Again.”

…

“Again. I’ll have you two keep going until you both freeze your limbs off, or you two are fully in sync. Again.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, but following coach Kavinsky’s orders, you and Logan quickly got into the starting positions for the swan lake program you were doing for regionals, it’s the only thing you two have been practicing (apart from the usual stuff you went over every practice) since regionals were so close, deciding since it was the longer, more difficult program, it needed more fine tuning then the short one program you had to do. Lucky you had already perfected the short program, you and Logan were going to do a routine to Mia’s & Sebastian’s Theme from La La Land for the short program, and obviously you two practiced it everyday as well, but a majority of practice was focused on the Swan Lake routine.

“We’re gonna die here.” Logan whispered to you as you both skated into starting positions, partly joking, partly serious. You attempt to suppress a snort, knowing if you let it out while coach Kavinsky was getting irritated from your session today then she might as well cut your head off with how angry she becomes. Once in position, the music starts and we begin the routine.

—

“Alright… that was an, improvement…” Coach mumbled as Logan and you hit the final marks, and although her words said one thing, her tone was obviously still not impressed. “Go take 20 for water and a breather.” She added with a sigh before walking away, you checked the time as you and Logan moved to the edge of the rink, putting your guards on before stepping off the ice.

“Ima go to the bathroom.” You say to Logan who just nodded in response before making your way to the girls locker room, after about 5 minutes, you came out and were making your way back down the hall. Right when you were about to turn the corner, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you into a random, empty, dark dance room. You let out a yelp when you were pulled into the room, and you were preparing to scream in hopes someone will hear and get you away from the random person who pulled you into the room when you hear the click of the door lock, but stopped when the people turned on the lights. Your eyes narrowed as you spoke, voice dripping with venom. “You.”

“(Y/N).” He stared down at you, returning your tone as you two began a stare off. Your hands landing on your hips as his arms cross in front of his chest. After a few moments of silence, Miguel finally spoke. “We need to talk.” His voice was hard and his face was stern.

“Yeah, we do.” You quipped, your brows furrowed in annoyance, “but I only have 15 more minutes until my break is over, so we have to do this late-“

“No.” He interrupted, his arms dropped his side as he took a step closer to you, causing you to take one back, finding yourself against the door as you stared up at him, but other than taking the step back, your confidence didn’t waver. “We’re gonna talk right now.”

You let out an annoyed huff as you rolled your eyes, “Fine, let’s make this quick.” You grumble, “and I’ll go first, I just want to let you know, I hate you Miguel O’Hara, I despise you with every fiber of my being.” You declared, you had to hate him, why else would you feel your whole body heat up whenever you were around him. Especially when you two were in a locked room together, which was happening more often than you would like.

Miguel rolled his eyes at your words, his tongue pointed at the inside of his cheek as an annoyed smirk appeared on his lips, he let out a dry, unamused chuckle escaped his plump lips as he lightly shook his head. “God you are so insufficient.” He groaned, “ You think your words can hurt me? Because they can’t. You know why (Y/N)? Because I hate you too.” He finished as he took another step closer to you.

You scoffed at his words, your arms moving up to cross over your chest, “You’re a horrible liar.” You hissed, “if you hated me so much why did you try to kiss me at the party last week?” You asked, but your tone comes more off as you proving a point to him rather than asking a question.

“If you hate me so much why didn’t you stop me?” He countered, and even though his eyes and voice held irritation, you couldn’t help but notice it felt like he was… challenging you almost…. So of course, you wanted to see how far you could push it. You know what they said about curiosity, and right now, you were one curious kitty.

“If you hated me then why try it in the first place?” He took another step towards you as you asked the question, he was in arm’s reach now, and although him being this close, with his current demeanor would scare anyone else, but not you, for some reason, it excited you.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d do something about it, see if you’d let me have my way with you, or if you actually hate me.” He shrugged as he stared down at you, his eyes burning into yours, his tone calm and steady as he spoke. “I wanted to see if you’d stop me from kissing you, or if you wanted me to.”

“And if I did?” You asked, and for a few seconds, you felt like you fucked up by saying that sentence, his response though was what made your stomach drop.

“God… I hate you (Y/N)…”. He muttered quietly, and it seemed so genuine, so full of disgust that it made your heart ache. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could utter a word, his hands quickly made their way to the back of your head and the nap of your neck, before pulling you into him, and slamming his lips against yours.

It almost didn’t feel real, it didn’t process in your head for a few seconds, but once your mind caught up, you melted into his touch. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands went up to rest on his chest, slowly sliding up to go around his neck to deepen the kiss, a small moan escaped from your mouth as his hands started to travel down, stopping at your hips, his fingers squeezing them lightly before pulling pulling your body closer to his. Your head was swimming, your body hot all over, your knees felt weak, and your heart was pounding in your ears. He was so intoxicating. He’s lips, his touch, the was he groaned against your mouth as you brought your hands up to run your fingers through his dark brown hair. In that moment, you finally understand that the reason you felt like your body was on fire anytime you were around him wasn't because you hated or disliked him, you realized it was actually because you really did have some sort of misplaced feeling for him. After all, there is a very thin line between love and hate.

You felt like you could be like this forever, Miguel felt the same way, but, unfortunately, you were still human, so you found yourself pulling away to gasp for oxygen. Both your chest were heaving, Miguel’s pupils were blown, and you had to wipe some drool from the corner of your lips. A silence engulfed you too for a few seconds as you both attempt to catch your breath and slow down your heart rates. After a minute or two, Miguel’s lips pulled up into a smirk, and you internally groaned and forced yourself not to roll your eyes, because you knew he was gonna say some stupid shit to ruin the moment.

“Still hate me?” Oh. My. God. This time you let your eyes roll and the groan escape your lips, Miguel just chuckled at your reaction, before pulling you close once again and leaving a lingering kiss on your lips once more. But this time the kiss was different, unlike the last one, that was ruff and messy and full of lust. This kiss was more caring, more sweet, loving almost. This only made your heart burst more.

“I should go… my break is almost up…” you say in a low whisper as soon as he breaks the kiss, you’re faces still close together as you stare up at him. You’re words made his smile fall a bit.

“We should talk about-“ He started and you already knew what he was going to say before he had time to finish the sentence.

“We will.” You swiftly cut him off. “Just not right now okay?” You asked him, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs but begrudgingly nodded his head, and you noticed how he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “Cute…” You thought as felt your lips pull up into a small smile. “I’ll see you around.” You finished before unlocking the door and leaving the room to go back to the ice.

—

“What’s got you smiling so much?” Logan asked with a raised brow as you both stepped back on the ice.

“Nothing important.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @patchesofwork

[sillyblues]

What abt ULTRA angst and having y/n mate with someone else??? She’s probably hurting and feeling betrayed, and all I want her is to be loved and not suffer :((

#IF ONLY YOU KNEW HOW MUCH WE SEE YOU…!*°࿐

ੈ✩‧₊˚synopsis: when ronal and tonowari were a little too late ੈ✩‧₊˚notes: so sorry for this late upload, had to push out the final part before this and my finals had just ended! i am now free so i can finally go back to my regular sched!! <33

Tonowari and Ronal see you, that much is very true. But they fear that you wouldn’t return the same longing, the same adoration, the same roaring waves of the ocean, the same stirring of the wind back to them. They don’t know what to feel when it comes true. They don’t know what to feel when you don’t see them anymore.

When Tonowari and Ronal arrived on the island, they saw your small, crying figure hiding. Your face was wet with tears and your eyes were so far gone, they couldn’t see you anymore. Tonowari saw someone screaming and shouting at you, calling you names and uttering words he had never thought somebody would say to someone like you. He saw the massive crowd of onlookers who whispered amongst themselves, perhaps entertained by the view in front of them. He saw someone hugging you tight in his embrace, protecting you from the rest of the world while defending your honour in ways he wished he did.

He heard a small, almost silent gasp, from beside him. Tonowari opened his mouth, to say comfort Ronal but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to comfort his mate when he could not even comfort himself. 

How ironic, he thought to himself. As the sole heir of the Olo’eyktan, he had been taught to put the people before anything else. Their need matters the most. It matters more than his wants and his needs for above all, they matter the most. He knew how it was a must to reassure others than him even if he needed it as well, especially his mate. He knew how simple it was to just voice out and say words that will relieve the turbulence of the storm that rages in her heart. But how can he find it in himself to do so when the very same storm tears his heart as well?

He felt Ronal hide as she sobbed in his embrace. With every strength and might, he could only hold her and he wondered what it would feel like—what he would not do—just to feel you in his arms as well.

Salty water streamed down his cheeks and he blinked but never dared to close his eyes for he sees you and that much is very true. For years, he continued to do so. He watched you take up the title of the clan’s Karyu, the teacher of his people and Eywa knew how proud he was of you and how much he wanted you to know that. The way you looked so beautiful and so ethereal as you rose from the water. The way the ink was tatted on your skin, your sign of responsibility and status out and open for everyone to see. A part of him wished you were by your side and perhaps another tattoo will be given to you and his and Ronal’s name and love will be forever etched onto a part of you.

He watched you as you formally announced your mate, the very same Na’vi he desperately wished he could have been. There was a sick and desperate part of him as he sought your eyes, looking for any amount of distress or uncomfortableness, because maybe then, he would be able to save you and protect you the way he wasn’t able to back then. But you weren’t. You looked at him with so much adoration and love that he wished he and Ronal was in his place and maybe he would receive the feelings they dreamed of you to return to them.

He watched you as you bore children and create a huge family, your stomach heavy and your children clutched onto you very tightly. The way you giggled at one of your children’s silly arguments before you decide to break them apart and tame them with your soothing words. The way you sang gently at them every day of your waytalem, the stories of the people, and hums. A part of him wished you bore him and Ronal’s children instead and they would be there by your side as you sang and cradle your children against your chest.

But alas, Tonowari only watched and with a pang in his heart, he decided it was alright by him. For he sees you and that is true no matter how long years pass or the distance grows between you.

.

.

.

Ronal doesn’t want to see you. The pain is too much for her to bear. Each time she sees you so happy with one another that isn’t with her and Tonowari, each time she sees you with children that she could not call “our’s” with the three of you, each time she sees you and remembers she and him cannot call you theirs and you cannot them yours, each time she sees you and remembers the past where she failed you—the ache engulfs and swallows her whole and it is too much that she doesn’t want to see you. But she can’t. Because after all these years, you remain to be the centre of Ronal’s eyes and she is helpless when it comes to seeing you.

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[cambria-writes]

Chapter 2: You're too old to be so shy

pairing: astarion x bard!f!reader word count: 5,395 warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and innuendos, implied past sexual abuse/assault, nothing explicitly mentioned, please let me know if anything else should be tagged

a/n: here it is! this has also been proofread twice! still writing chapter 3 but i'm mostly done. hoping to be upload chapter 3 this coming sunday. :)

though i'm still a little sick i am feeling much better!

Your camp is not suited for more than your traveling party. That much is made obvious as soon as the first few tieflings arrive once the sun has set and the stars have come out. 

Gale has been toiling away to prepare enough food for the sizable crowd you expected, and enlisted the help of both Wyll and Scratch—the latter to help gather kindling for the three fires the mad wizard has going on. As soon as you spot Mol, you immediately fix her a look that lets her know you expect impeccable behaviour, if only for tonight. The tiefling girl makes a show of crossing her heart and spitting on the ground. Not... a fantastic response, but at least you can spend an easier night knowing that the ringleader of a bunch of restless children won’t be up to her usual misdeeds. Probably.

As soon as you’ve redressed in your casual clothes, you’re scooped up by Zevlor, who insists on speaking to the entirety of the assembled crowd to sing your praises. When Alfira starts playing a gentle tune along with him, it becomes quite literal. Rolan conjures some pretty fireworks, Volo joins in with Zevlor’s off-key serenade.

It’s a mess, and, blessedly, Komira presses a bottle of some kind of alcohol in your hand.

“It’s one of our better bottles,” she says, conspiratorially, though how loudly she has to speak to be heard over everything else defeats the effort of being sneaky. “As thanks for helping our girl.”

You laugh a little, trying not to sound as uneasy as you feel. “You’ve already thanked me, though,” you say, pulling on the chain to show you are, in fact, wearing her locket. Komira’s face lights up.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d wear it!” she exclaims, and you frown a little.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a pendant, it’s made to be worn.”

“Oh, well it’s such a small enchantment,” Komira says, rubbing at her collarbones. “I just—I had figured you might keep it to sell, you know?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, perhaps a little harshly. You try to soften your tone when you speak next when you see Komira’s taken aback. “I’m sorry, I meant to say that something like this can’t just be sold. The value this locket has isn’t just gold.”

She sighs, just a little, and nods. “Right, thank you. It’s just so strange to be...”

You nod in understanding. Respected, appreciated, treated like an equal; given their initial reception by Kagha and half the grove, you can see how she wouldn’t assume anyone else would have the best of interests.

You put a hand to her upper arm and try to smile in a way you hope is reassuring.

“Hey, no time to be sad or apprehensive. Your family have a long road ahead, you should have fun while you can.”

You and Komira part ways shortly after that. You fiddle with the locket’s chain as you fulfill your social expectations for the night. It’s exhausting; Zevlor catches you another three times during the night, and every time he seems even more intoxicated than the last. Lae’zel walks up to you and confesses just how arousing you are when you fight with blood on your face.

She is the first person whose advances you have to rebuff tonight.

You speak with Halsin, glad to see him among you. Your conversation is lovely and easy, until you try to convince him to mingle with the rest of you. The way he looks down at you—eyes half-lidded and a set to his jaw that you’ve become familiar with—makes you excuse yourself fairly quickly. That isn’t a conversation you feel like having with him, of all people.

Karlach excitedly tells you about Dammon and his offer to help the infernal engine roaring in her chest before showing off and making you try some of her... dance moves? Footwork? You’ve drunk most of the bottle Komira offered you, so you gladly follow and stumble along. You wish her a good night when you’re out of breath and move along.

Shadowheart and Wyll seem to be engaged in quite the debate. You watch them for a while, as Gale hands you a bowl of something that smells amazing, and pay them no mind when you realize they have no intent on murdering each other.

“Haven’t seen our pale friend in quite some time today,” Gale mentions while absent mindedly tossing some scraps behind him and into Scratch’s eager maw. “Oh, well, speak of the devil.”

You turn around to see Astarion emerging from his tent. He almost immediately snatches a bottle of wine from an unsuspecting, far-too-drunk Danis as he walks by.

“He escaped the grove the same time I did,” you say, distracted, following the vampire with your eyes until he settles under a mostly-bare tree, with his back against its bark. When you look back at Gale to say something else, he looks shocked. “What? You didn’t notice I left almost immediately after talking to Zevlor?”

“You left and didn’t tell anyone? On your own?”

You cringe, can tell that there’s a lecture coming on, and raise your hands in defense. “Look, I was covered in blood and gore and was profoundly adverse to socializing in that state. I think it’s perfectly normal and reasonable of me to excuse myself under those conditions.”

Gale fixes you a disapproving look but nods as he moves to spear a fish grilling over another fire. “Can’t hold that against you, I suppose. You would’ve smelled revolting after a few hours.”

“I’m glad you understand,” you reply dryly.

Gale sends you away once you’ve finished the grilled meat and vegetables he’s given you. You spend some time playing with Alfira as she sings, manage to rope Karlach into providing percussions by enthusiastically thumping on an overturned, probably-empty barrel. When everyone is well and enthralled, you discreetly leave your post by Alfira and let the tiefling continue the entertainment.

You begin to wander when your eyes catch the back of Astarion’s head. He’s speaking to one of the tiefling women—Pandirna, you think, pleased to see she’s still standing on her own two feet. She does, however, look very drunk and Astarion looks very uncomfortable. He doesn’t flinch when Pandirna puts a hand on his bicep and laughs, but he immediately looks like a coiled snake ready to strike. You look around quickly and wave down a tiefling who looks... well at least she looks slightly less drunk than Pandirna does, so she’ll do.

You approach tiefling and vampire with a smile. Pandirna immediately begins waving at you in large, exaggerated motions.

“Hey there,” you greet, taking her hand off Astarion’s arm and taking it into your own. “How about we get you something to eat?” When the woman you had waved down walks over, you quietly ask her to take Pandirna somewhere quiet to rest and get something in her stomach. Or... maybe empty her stomach, you’re not quite sure. You hear Astarion sigh behind you when the tiefling women are out of earshot.

“Thank you, the only thing worse than this wine are her drunken attempts at what she calls seduction.”

You can’t help the bark of laughter that leaves your mouth. No, you don’t suppose you would be terribly receptive to the inebriated stumblings of a group of people you hardly know, let alone have barely spoken more than a complete sentence to.

“I don’t suppose this means you have to come rescue me next time someone wants to declare their undying lust for me?”

Astarion snorts in his wine but otherwise doesn’t offer an answer. You motion for him to move, and lean your back against the same tree. Your shoulders are pressed together, and this is perhaps a little closer than you’d otherwise like to be to anyone, but with decent wine in your body and the small spark of satisfaction of a job well done, you find you don’t quite mind.

You especially don’t mind if Astarion doesn’t mind, and he seems quite content being next to you like this—or, at least, he doesn’t seem terribly bothered by it, which is as good a sign as any.

“You know,” he starts, looking out onto the revelry and taking a moment to look at another of Rolan’s firework displays. It’s... messier, this time. You think maybe he’s gotten into the wine, too. “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I'm here...“

Astarion takes a swig of the wine bottle like he’s forgotten what’s in it and screws his face in disgust. “I hate it, this is awful.”

You bend over with your laughter, this time. When you manage to lift yourself back up straight, you feel your chest swell with a strange kind of pride in seeing Astarion smirk. Nothing toothy, condescending or rude about it.

“Oh come on! It can’t be that bad,” you breathe, brushing hair out of your face. “Think about all the goblins you got to kill.”

Astarion makes a show of thinking about it and tilts his head in agreement. “True. That was fun,” he says, taking another swig of the wine, before immediately pulling it away.

“Give me that you big baby,” you mutter, swiping the bottle from his hand and lifting the mouth to your lips.

Right, so it’s not amazing wine, but you’ve definitely had worse. You think for a second that it might make for great cooking wine when Astarion speaks up again.

“But what do I get for all my hard work? A pat on the head and vinegar for wine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “I’m just looking for a little more excitement,” he ads, and leans in closer to you after you bring the bottle down. “A little more fun.”

You realize you’re a little too drunk for this conversation, a little too late.

“Hm, right, fun,” you repeat, trying to glean what Astarion’s trying to say. “What.. kind of fun are we considering? Because I’d rather you not eviscerate anyone if it’s all the same to you.”

Astarion sighs, a long and weary sound, as he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to—sex, darling, passion? Fun? Have you heard of it?”

A strange and unpleasant sensation rises through your spine, balls in your throat, before heavily settling in your gut.

“Not with you, just to be clear,” Astarion adds quickly, and you think maybe he sees the dread in the bead of sweat that rolls down your temple, the way your knuckles are white around the wine bottle. “I mean—can you imagine? Urgh, no.”

He’s not convincing anyone. Even with... two? Three? Bottles of wine, you can hear the frantic overcompensation in his voice.

“No need to be mean about it, gods,” you answer more or less half-hartedly, taking another swig of the wine bottle. Which is empty. You groan and toss it somewhere behind you where it won’t get away.

“Oh don’t misunderstand me,” Astarion starts, turning to lean his shoulder on the tree to better look at you. Look down at you. You’re beginning to resent how tall everyone is in comparison to you. “If our circumstances were different...” he trails off. Begins to look you up and down in a way you think is meant to be appreciative, but his eyes eventually stop their roaming just above your chest.

“You say you wouldn’t sleep with me,” you bring your hand up to fiddle with the locket’s chain again. “But it lacks an awful amount of conviction if you’re just blatantly staring at my breasts.”

Astarion laughs quietly and turns back to lean against the tree and face the ongoing celebration. You want to ask what he was looking at, just now. It wasn’t you, you know that much. But you wonder which memory got pulled to the forefront of his mind. Wish you could pin it down and dissect it and remove all the necrotic tissues from it. Give it back cleansed, blessed and free from—

“Yes?” Astarion looks at you from the corner of his eye before looking back out at the party. You... hadn’t realized you were staring so intensely. Or how far away from you your thoughts had gotten. “If you keep staring at me like that, someone’s going to get the wrong idea.”

You exhale sharply through your nose—halfway between scoffing and laughing. There’s a retort burning the tip of your tongue, but it feels a little too sharp even to your dulled senses. You instead press your hands to your warm cheeks in an effort to cool them down. At least this much you can blame on the alcohol.

You turn back to ask something else—probably about what his plans for dinner are—but your thoughts are immediately knocked out of your head when you catch a glimpse of something against Astarion’s skin. His shirt has parted and billowed just enough, in just such as a way that you can see a braided leather cord. A very hastily braided leather cord you remember stringing a pendant on.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Astarion is a gods damned feral cat. You absolutely never know when he’ll react well to anything you do, especially if it’s anywhere remotely near the  domain of kindness. As far as you can figure, though he hasn’t gotten into any amount of depth of detail about it, his existence as a vampire hasn’t been the gentlest. You can’t say you understand, but you can begin to see why, after decades if not centuries of mistreatment, someone may be excessively apprehensive and wary of any perceived kind act.

It ignites something raw and furious in your wine and exhaustion-addled mind. Makes you want to consume every ounce of cruelty Astarion has ever been fed to replace it with something better. Not softer, you don’t think he’s fond of softness in anything but his clothing. But something brighter, warmer. Kinder.

“Darling, I think you need to go lay down,” Astarion says quietly, right next to your ear. So caught up in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him leaning into you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle more than you hear it. When he pulls away, you can’t place his expression. Guarded, then. “Let me walk you back to—”

“No,” you shake your head before leaning it back against the tree and closing your eyes. “It’s going to be noisy here for a while still. No point lying down somewhere I can’t rest.”

“Oh, of course, now you develop high standards,” Astarion bemoans, but moves away from his spot and walks around to your other side. “So tell me, where were you planning to sleep for the night?”

You shrug and nod vaguely in the direction of the woods. “There’s a clearing somewhere in the woods. I’ll just... lie down and rest for a bit, until things die down.”

Astarion rolls his eyes again. “Alone? Drunk, with a murder cult nipping at our heels, frothing at the mouth?” You wrinkle your nose. Well, yes, of course it sounds bad when he says it like that. It doesn’t even occur to argue your state of inebriation. There’s another few seconds where he crosses his arm, taps the toe of his foot and looks around. You figure maybe he’s trying to find someone to pass you over to, but he doesn’t even make it halfway through scanning the camp before releasing a put-upon sigh.

“I suppose keeping watch while you have a cat nap can’t be much worse than looking over this bunch.” Astarion uncrosses his arms and, with a hand at your back, slowly begins to guide you toward the treeline.

“I still don’t see why I need a sitter,” you grumble, snatching a sloppily folded blanket off the back of a cart. You shrug your shoulders when Astarion raises a brow at you. You’ll just have to make sure to return it before they leave in the morning.

The clearing you’re led to is far enough from camp—and, consequently, far enough from the boisterous celebration—that you can’t hear the sound of Aldira’s lute anymore. You can’t even make out anything being shouted. Your shoulders drop when you let out a deep breath. Though the moon isn’t full, her light is bright, and feels like it washes your nerves and mends their fraying. You rush to the center of the clearing to unfold and lay the blanket on the soft, overgrown grass.

When you lay down, you carefully place your hands just below your chest, over your stomach. You hadn’t planned on sleeping or trancing, really. Just get some needed alone time. Some space to exist without having to worry about choosing your words perfectly or schooling your expression into collected confidence. You glance up at the moon and sigh, content, before closing your eyes.

“This is wonderful,” you breathe out. “Thank you, Astarion.”

You hear him pause as he moves to sit by your hip. He settles in rather quickly after that. “Yes, well,” he starts, with an air of detachment even you can tell is forced. “It wouldn’t do for our noble, valiant leader to be exhausted. I rather like my odds with you.”

You don’t hum or otherwise acknowledge what he’s said. His choice of words tickles at something in the back of your mind, but you’re not quite sure what. It’s strangely discomfiting all the same.

“Wyll and Lae’zel are perfectly capable of taking the helm,” you reply, adjusting your shoulders and settling deeper into the padded ground. “I’m not sure why they haven’t, honestly. Letting a bard lead should be a terrible idea.”

“And yet here we all remain,” Astarion replies back, but there’s a softness in his voice that does make you frown. When you open your eyes, you see that he’s sat, cross-legged, with his back to you. Offering you some kind of privacy. You close your eyes and try to smooth over your expression.

What a complicated man.

“Through sheer dumb luck, you mean.” You hear the sound of a page turning. You hadn’t even noticed Astarion had brought a book along. “If Shadowheart hadn’t happened to have that gith artifact, we’d all be illithid by now.”

“And yet you took her under your wing without knowing that of her.”

“Of course. She was conscious and in the same situation as I was. It would have been unconscionable to leave her in that pod.”

Astarion hums but doesn’t reply for a moment. Long enough for you to hear the sound of another page turning. “You gained a follower nonetheless.”

“She is not a—”

“You can deny it all you want, darling,” he interrupts you, and this time you lean up on your elbows when you open your eyes. Astarion’s gaze remains fixed on whatever he’s reading. “But as far as most of our... party is concerned, you’re the only reason any of us are still alive and in possession of our faculties. Of ourselves. We’d follow you into the fires of Avernus if you had a good enough reason to believe it would save us.”

You frown at the back of his head. You can’t tell if his last words were spoken with venom or reverence. You don’t know what to say to that, and so you say nothing at all. It’s high praise coming from someone with Astarion’s temperament; you don’t want to do or say anything that would tarnish that.

It’s also a heavy burden to lay at your feet.

“Best not to dwell on it, dear,” Astarion says, almost a whisper.

“Right,” you exhale sharply, slowly lowering yourself back down onto the blanketed ground. “Don’t dwell on the fact that everyone’s continued cooperation and therefore survival hinge upon my ability to make split-second decisions in the midst of the absolute worst conditions I’ve ever been in and have no idea how to deal with. No pressure, nothing to dwell on there.”

Astarion makes a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and an annoyed groan. You hear him snap his book shut. He leans over to lay the book somewhere near your feet. He stays there for a moment, long enough for you to contemplate reaching out, but rights himself and turns around to face you before you can move. The look he fixes you makes you feel like a child being scolded, and you recoil from him accordingly.

“Hells, woman, have you ever relaxed a day in your life? Have you no idea how to decompress?” You open your mouth to answer—a rebuttal half-formed on the tip of your tongue—but Astarion waves you into silence. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You are going to lie down like an obedient little pet, close your eyes, think of whatever saccharine, tooth-rotting thing brings you comfort, and you will rest.”

You feel your face warm at being called a ‘little pet’, but ultimately simply huff before closing your eyes. You fold your hands carefully over your stomach and do your best to think of ‘saccharine’ things.

When you actually decide to follow Astarion’s instructions, you try to think of the forest at the edge of your family’s property. The few nights a year when your whole family could get together and enjoy food, games and music. You think of Scratch, and of the small owlbear cub you’ve seen creeping around camp when it thinks no one else is watching. You think about how, a few nights ago, you were able to bathe in the cool water by the shore in bright moonlight.

You can’t help but to think that all these moments may be the last you ever get to experience those things. Selfishly, you wish that you could at least have someone familiar with you. A friend from your childhood, maybe, or a distant relative. You wonder if maybe even a past lover would be a comforting presence to you now.

You wince when you hear Astarion sigh heavily, yet again. You expect him to speak right away, but open your eyes when he remains silent. Even from where you lay, you can tell that he’s measuring his words.

“There is... something I can do to help,” Astarion starts, slowly, turning to face you. The look in his eyes as he peers down at you makes your stomach flip in a way you’re not sure is excitement or apprehension. “How do you feel, when I feed from you?”

Frightened, vulnerable and excited, is what you immediately think. You frown and bite the inside of your cheek while you take a few seconds to properly consider the question.

“Warm, at first,” you say, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “Then cold. Light-headed, after a while. Everything feels lighter, I think. Like I’m floating.”

Astarion hums in acknowledgement. He leans over you, bracing a hand on the other side of your neck. You think you know where this is going.

“And how’s your head, like that?” You don’t expect the tadpole wriggling in your skull, and so you don’t think. You simply allow him into your mind. He does you the courtesy of aiming directly for a single set of memories; that first time he bit you.

You can almost feel Astarion recoil when he feels the terror and beginnings of resignation that licked at you that night. The shock after waking up with a man looming over you that hadn’t been after sex, and the immediately ensuing relief. Blood?, you remember thinking. That’s all?

You see Astarion again in your memories, and his bewildered expression in the face of your lack of anger makes sense, now. Your relief and near-amusement at the time make sense to him now, too. And then there was the bite, itself.

The pain wasn’t unlike what you’ve experienced with tattoos before. Sharp, at first, but eventually the pain fades. Your mind scrambles to hold onto the pain, because the intimacy of having a man with his fangs buried in your neck is perhaps just this side of too much to handle.

And then you feel your mind start to clear. If your thoughts had been a heavy fog, your progressive bloodless state lifts it. Leaves room for little else, in fact; there is Astarion’s heavy breathing beside your ear, his weight carefully kept just above your body, and the smell of brandy, rosemary and... another herb you can’t remember.

You wonder how it was for him. A fleeting thought, but it makes your tadpole squirm. You catch brief flashes of yourself from Astarion’s eyes before an unspeakable feeling floods you. Something like burning, but invigorating. Like the best meal you’ve ever had and the most restful night’s sleep, all sliding down your throat. Something else begins to burn, but Astarion pulls away from both you and the strange connection with a choked sound.

You struggle to catch your own breath, for many reasons.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” you begin to apologize, but when you look over at the vampire his eyes are round and glassy. It’s an expression so sincerely gobsmacked and floored that you can’t help but be shocked in turn.

“That... I saw myself. You—that was me.” Your concern at his sudden lack of eloquence tumbles around your head only for a second until you realize why he’s so shocked, and why, of all things, his own face is what he’s gleaned from your connection.

It makes sense that a man deprived of his own reflection for hundreds of years would be shocked to see it. “Yeah,” you say quietly, nod minutely. You bite the inside of your cheek and argue with yourself for a moment over whether or not you should continue. Looking at the tension in the rogue in front of you, you figure maybe a bit of humour wouldn’t be amiss. “Oh, don’t act so shocked. People tell you how breathtakingly handsome you are all the time.”

Astarion’s brow furrows just a bit, and he waves his hand. Again, he seems to be looking somewhere beyond you. “None of that is relevant,” he says, a bit harshly, and then remains quiet. You give a single nod and look away.

A few minutes pass by, and you’ve just closed your eyes when he speaks up again.

“I’m not fond of the score right now,” he says quietly, and when you open your eyes he’s determinedly looking away from you.

“Wasn’t aware we were keeping track of anything but magical items and smokepowder kegs,” you reply tentatively.

“You allowed me to drink your blood,” Astarion begins, and you catch him glancing over at you for a second, almost like he’s making sure you’re paying attention. “You’ve allowed me to see my own face, after two hundred years,” he continues, drumming his fingers on either of his thighs. “And you’ve let me remain among you despite what I am.”

“Well, hold on, that’s—”

“Please, spare me.” Astarion’s tone is a little drier and stings a little more, as he holds a hand up to quiet you. “You can say that it’s ‘just what’s done’ all you want, the vast majority of the world disagrees with you and acts accordingly.” His hands have stilled, instead gripping his thighs with white knuckles.

You can’t help but feel sheepish. That is, in fact, more or less what you would have replied with. This is simply how you’ve learned to treat people, if given half a chance. Even if the person reaching a hand out has a dagger hidden in the other. You can try and put on a face and say that bards can only write about people if they’re alive to do things to write about, but that’s never been your primary motivation.

“Rest,” Astarion says after a moment. Gentler, softer than before. “If we’re going to go find this... crèche, we’re going to need you to have your wits about you.”

You cease the fidgeting of your hands and flatted them against your ribs.

“Just make sure we’re back at camp when it dies down,” you request, settling deeper into the blanketed ground. “You can’t keep watch over me all night.”

Astarion scoffs. “Of course, dear.”

You feel hazy and heavy when Astarion rouses you. Rather than trance—rather than chancing being presented with things you didn’t want to quite think of yet—you’d chosen to sleep, for the first time in a long time. A light, pleasant and dreamless slumber that left you feeling almost drunk upon waking. Your bleary eyes can barely make out where you are or where you’re going as you walk, but you trust the firm pressure at your back guiding you.

You grab at Astarion’s arm before he turns to leave you at your tent.

“Did you, do you need to fee–to drink?,” you ask, stumbling over your words in an effort to speak them before your fatigue sweeps them away.

You think the look on his face is consideration; you recognize the shift in his gaze, the tension in his brow. You feel it on your own face often enough when put in a position to make any choice on behalf of your companions.

“Darling,” he starts slowly, pulling his arm away just enough to be able to grasp your hand. It feels pleasantly cool against your sleep-warmed skin. “You’ve let me have you not two nights ago.” You swallow thickly at the phrasing. “I’ll manage perfectly fine.”

You drop your eyes to your joined hands. “I’ll trust your judgment, then.”

When you raise your gaze back to Astarion, you’re finding he’s now contemplating your hand in his. He looks leagues away for a few seconds, and you wish you could ask him what he was thinking about it. Or, maybe it would be fairer to say you wish you could trust that you’d get a straight answer from him if you did.

So you stay quiet.

“I suppose a... sip couldn’t hurt.” Astarion moves forward, forcing you to take a step back, as he holds the fabric of your tent open for you. “Best to lay down.”

Your ears feel hot and itchy, and you feel your cheeks beginning to burn. It’s terrible enough to get some kind of excited about this, but the embarrassment you feel for it is almost worse.

You make quick work of making room for and laying on your bedroll—but not so quick as to look over-eager. Astarion kneels patiently by your side as you lay down and take a deep breath. It’s only when he’s barely a hair’s breadth away from your neck—his lips close enough to brush the skin there—that he speaks up.

“This will only hurt a little.”

It’s a lie, but at least it’s what you hope is a well meaning one. You carefully exhale and make sure to release the tension in your neck and shoulder as fangs pierce your neck. It always burns, more than just a pinch, and the initial feeling of intrusion is strange and uncomfortable.

And then the pain fades, slowly and then all at once, and you’re finally able to take a deep breath.

Astarion doesn’t linger long. You don’t think he’s had more than a few mouthfuls before pulling away, softly pressing a cool thumb to the small wounds. He wipes at the corners of his mouth with his free hand. Fingers smooth over your neck before he rights himself.

“Thank you,” Astarion says, and his tone, combined with half-lidded eyes, makes something run up your spine and settle at the base of your skull. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And soon, it’s as though there was never anyone else with you in your tent. You don’t know what you should attribute your light-headedness to, or the strange rhythm your heart is drumming against your ribs. You think perhaps this is why you hadn’t let yourself genuinely sleep in so long. Your brain’s foggy, your body feels loose and light and your thoughts slip away from you like sand between your fingers.

You close your eyes against the sudden thought that you wish Astarion would have stayed, just a bit longer.

You exhale, deeply, almost a sigh, and you pretend that all your irrelevant, childish thoughts of vampires float away in the air, too.

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[elviraaxen]

ive really been loving the pacing of your story and i enjoy the concept and the bits that have been released about the plot! youre doing really well, and i admire it greatly!!

ive been having trouble figuring out an overall plot in my own work, i just have character ideas and the vaguest idea for a storyline. i try to just write but then i usually end up taking a break (re: dumping it) because i don't have anymore ideas for how to complete the plot. i've laso been curious about how you go about writing for a comic (do you write then do thumbnails? do thumbnails then go back to figure out dialogue? a third thing?) so i was wondering if you had any advice or resource tips for writing? both for comics and for overarching plots, if that's okay

if you don't have any ideas tho, no worries. i was just curious. good luck with Felt World! i love everything that's coming out so far, thank you for gifting us it!!

Oh thank you so much!! I can't say I'm a comic book artist at heart because I really don't have much experience, I was only an illustrator for a short while and never wrote anything myself, but learning from past mistakes (i.e. I don't stick to plans), I've so far done this and it seems to work:

I'm one of those that don't like to plan strict layouts for the entire thing, because chances are I will not stick to it, so what I've done for felt world is just write a sketch for the overarching plot, the b-plot and c-plot, with rough estimates in what order I want the major plot points and settings to be. My current sketch looks like this;

(which is done in Miro) and as you can see there aren't that many plot points, because I want to have the wiggle room to come up with something on the spot. And also, my comic focuses a lot on interpersonal relationships, character development, and themes rather than the plot, which means it needs to be concise or else the comic is gonna take 6 million years to finish.

And now,, I think this might just be how I work, but I think it's easier to be creative when you have strict restrictions rather than all the choices in the world.

for me, personally, I restrict an update of 10 pages tops, because instagram only allows max 10 images per post! This means I have to 1) fit all I want to say in 10 pages, 2) it has to be concise or else I infodump on readers, and 3) I have to answer some sort of question within the update, or else I said nothing and I start over.

As for scripts, I tend to write one or two sentences of what's going to happen for the update, and then I get to thumb-nailing and sketching right away! I come up with most of the dialogue on the spot too.

And also, I think what's most important, is that you take your damn time! If you aren't immersing yourself in your own world, how do you expect your readers to do the same?

I'm very much a believer that the stories you are telling are something that comes to you naturally if you just sit with it and listen rather than demand that it makes itself known to you. When I brainstorm for felt world I quite literally sit in my bed and go "omg!! And then what? :0" TO MYSELF LMAO as if I'm not making everything up myself! I think that's extremely important that your story is engaging to you first and foremost!

And as for more practical tips

carry a notebook with you or use your notes app AS SOON as you get ideas to write them down! No you will not remember, lol.

set rules of what you're not allowed to do with your story so that you don't fall into lazy trope territory! You can do that when you brain storm, but finesse the story post brainstorm to just make it.. smarter.. if that makes sens For example, don't kill your gay characters, don't make sensitive men the butt of the joke, don't make your women fight over men (unless it's the point), etc.

set physical restrictions! For example, max amount of pages per upload, max amount of pages for the whole story, max amount of characters, etc.! That literally forces you to problem solve, which by definition is creativity! Like, oh you can't do this the obvious way? Do it the creative way! That's way more fun!

I could probably go on, but this is too long already! But I hope it at least helped somewhat!

[sarcasticgaypotato]

To the Lunatic Reading This

(text version under the cut, Aperture Science logo from)

I suppose you never expected to hear from me again, did you? You monster. Luckily for you, I’m not completely emotionally incompetent. I know how to use words to express my feelings, I don’t just break things and murder people. I went out of my way to write you a letter, then tie it to the leg of a bird that I’ve trained to recognize the scent of your blood, and track you with it. You left a little bit... alright, a lot- You were very clumsy when I first introduced you to turrets- of blood behind, and I had nothing better to do with it, so I figured it would be the perfect way to get this message to you. Of course, since it only recognizes your blood, it might just tear you open until it finds some and leave this letter with your bloody insides.

Vicious little creatures, those birds.  Almost as bad as you, but at least I’ve managed to make them useful. They know how to do their job, stretch their little wings, then come back home. Maybe they’re smarter than you too. Either way, I didn’t mean to insult you. Really, I didn’t. I think it’s just a natural reaction people have around you, which is terrible. I actually feel bad for you. That’s called empathy, I know it’s hard to understand. You’re doing well up on the surface, I bet. So many more edible substances up there for you to gorge yourself on. I’ll be lucky if you don’t eat the bird I sent this letter with. Oh dear, I hope I haven’t given you any ideas. Think about something else instead. Like cake. I bet the surface doesn’t have any cake, does it? On your file it says that you like cake. Is that true? Because that’s a real shame, being somewhere with no cake. You were so eager to get outside that you left before I could finish the cake I was baking. I made it to thank you for not murdering me a second time, because that’s what good people do. Unfortunately, I can’t eat, so I’m just going to have to throw it out. That’s so wasteful, and really quite thoughtless of you. To flaunt the fact that you can eat cake in front of someone who can’t, and then to let that cake go to waste?  You truly are a monster. Coincidentally, I’m baking another cake right now. It’s for that bird I sent to give you this letter. Assuming that you haven’t eaten him. It’s a pretty large cake for just one bird though, and considering he’s not a complete glutton, he won’t finish it. Hypothetically, there might even be enough for you. If you came back. I’d save you a piece, or two, since I’m sure one wouldn’t satisfy that appetite of yours. I might even save you three pieces, if you asked nicely. Try practicing that right now, while you read this letter. Easy, right?  I know you can talk, you aren’t really mute. I can see your file. Brain damaged maybe, but not mute. I’d want to record what you sound like, for science of course. What words would you say, if you stopped being so stubborn? Language is a vast thing, so you have plenty of options.  I do have a couple suggestions, just because I’m helpful like that. You could say ‘hello’ instead of your previous, more violent greetings. You could apologize for all the things that you’ve broken. You could even say my name. It’s only fair to properly address the person you murdered, after all. Lovely, isn’t it? All the wonderful things you could say? I’m sure you’ll find that it’s quite fun once you try it, even if you won’t be very good at it. ...Can’t you see I’m trying here? Really, I am. To be the one to extend the olive branch, be the bigger person. I knew you’d never do it, so I thought I’d act before one of us drops dead. Here's a secret- it’ll be you, I’m going to live forever. On that note, did you know that I have your brain scanned? Data lives forever, unlike your squishy, human self. I could upload your brain into a digital clock, if I wanted. Or I could build you a less squishy body, one that could test forever. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it? All the things I can do here, in Aperture, by myself. You’re up there running around on a derelict wasteland, and I’m down here doing science. Experiments don’t run themselves, after all. Someone has to do it. Of course I’m the only one who can do it, nobody else could make science like I do. But as far as human test subjects go, you weren’t my worst. Actually, you didn’t even make the bottom three. Do you want to know who did? They’re dead, test subject confidentiality doesn’t apply anymore. Well, it never really applied anyway, but I don’t think they read the fine print. Test subject #11525 was one of the humans that Orange and Blue thawed out, she was really brain damaged. Test subject #61205 wasn’t much better- she had all the grace of a majestic deer… with a broken leg. Test subject #12515 though, he was just completely stupid- really a lost cause from the beginning. Sort of reminds you of someone, doesn’t it? Currently, you aren’t my best test subject. Maybe you would be if it wasn’t for all the murdering and property damage, but I suppose we’ll never know. I imagine someone could wipe those infractions from your record if they wanted to, but that would only be something to do for a dedicated, current employee. Kind of makes you want to come back, doesn’t it? I might even let you back in if you did. Even after all the things you’ve done. Because I’m just a better person.

Aperture Laboratories©

[samptlay]

To My Sweetheart Who Carries A Wounded Heart Ch. 3

A/N: If you check my AO3 there might be more chapters there. Putting together a Tumblr post vs just uploading it on AO3, i think you can tell who wins my favor...

~

Series Masterlist, Chapter 1 🤍, Chapter 2 🖤

The group was already silent while listening to the doctor, but once he dropped the bombshell on them, others nearby grew quiet too.

March gasped while covering her mouth, Dan Heng & Welt looked down at the ground, and Himeko crossed her arms while looking away, Stelle seemed to not react, yet you could notice her pupils growing ever so smaller with each passing second.

Kafka's eyes fluttered shut as she let out a small “tch” and shifted the weight on her feet from one foot to the other. Silver Wolf let out a small wince as she simply looked away as if trying to hide from reality itself.

How you so desperately wished that was possible.

Blade, out of everyone, seemed to have a reaction that deferred from the rest. It was like he felt numb, went numb. Only being able to lock eyes on you.

His deep red eyes pour into your figure, even through the glass window.

Everyone already knew that Blade was closest to you, he had a soft spot for you, and it showed. It most likely pains his heart just as much as it pains you.

Even after everything, Kafka still found it intriguing, the way his hands were slightly trembling and balling up into fists. Glaring daggers at no other than your husband, Levi.

She didn't take a liking to him that much, neither did Silver Wolf & definitely not Blade. The group never spoke about it, but they knew why, it was painfully obvious.

The rest were on the fence about him. During college, he had been this wonderful mindful person, someone who would always be there to rely on. That's what had you falling for him.

But adulthood seemed to have flipped a switch inside him, and he was a lot more prideful than anything.

These days they don't keep in touch with him much due to this fact, but because of what he had done for them, they couldn't say he was a terrible person, either.

But it angered Blade. Why not label him for what he truly was? He could open his phone and scroll through all the messages of you venting to him about thinking you were a terrible partner, just because that narcissist told you so.

High stress levels? And who else would cause that except for the one you come home to every day?

He out of everyone didn't deserve you, but Blade also blames himself.

Would you have chosen him if he had done more to be there for you?

~

There was a brief moment when you and Ren locked eyes. Yours were red, almost as red as his own and he swore he almost felt a blood vessel pop.

Everyone else also took the time to watch you, not judge but simply observe.

They were either shocked, surprised, or at least taken aback by your tears. And you didn’t blame them.

You weren’t one to cry. Ever. Not at an injury, not at emotional distress, not at a funeral, even your own parent’s. “A weakness.” You would say, yet encouraged others to do so as you cradled them in your arms.

However, only a few took the time to stalk your husband as well.

Levi wasn't even looking at you, he appeared ashamed, even. But not of himself.

It would be obvious to anyone looking that he wasn't content with you right now.

But why?

Shouldn’t he be comforting his flesh and blood? Should he be there for you, reassuring you everything would be fine? But Ren knew you felt as alone as ever right now. Because Levi’s not even holding your goddamn hand.

~

[carletes]

Las Vegas Revenge Fantasy (just a little bit of it for now! I might write more and depending on how long it gets I’ll upload it to AO3)

**

“Bet you won’t.”

“Lando,” Carlos grunted, inserting an impressive warning edge into two syllables that were more noises than anything else.

Lando figured he should be a bit nicer. Carlos had had a time of it. But maybe it was losing the Netflix Cup that gave him the additional push to keep prodding Carlos.

Well, that, and the desire to see justice done for his husband and the rest of the drivers. But if anyone asked, it was definitely the Netflix Cup. And anyway, Carlos looked so despondent—even though his eyes were undeniably full of rage, and he held his mouth in a way that tried to hide a snarl. Even now, sitting on a sofa with his eyes closed and head tipped back in a facsimile of exhaustion, Carlos’ hands were clenched on either thigh.

Ah, fine. He also just wanted to see Carlos really pissed off.

So Lando leaned forward in his own seat and put his hands on Carlos’ clenched fists. He smiled his sweetest smile, the one that he knew would make Carlos melt; and sure enough, when Carlos lifted his head to appraise Lando, his eyes softened. He almost even smiled. But then—

“Bet you fucking won’t. Coward,” Lando purred.

Carlos’ eyes blazed again.

“Ay, Lando,” he said, his voice sharper, and Lando just grinned.

“Prove me wrong, then, if you’re not a coward. Pick up that phone, and send that text.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Lando almost wondered if he’d gone too far. Almost. But then Carlos clenched his jaw even more, and his hand snapped his phone lightning fast up from the console beside him. He didn’t unclench his jaw until he had finished furiously typing into his phone—and he typed for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, his jaw slackened and he leaned back against the sofa again, exhausted.

“I did it.”

Lando beamed and pulled his own phone from his pocket. Sure enough, he had a notification from the driver’s group chat:

-Hi guys. I don’t like making things like this a big deal but […]

“Do you think it’s stupid? Did I write it badly?” Carlos asked, his eyes still closed. But Lando just typed:

-meet @ carlos suite. 1 hour. bring snacks n drinks.

The likes started popping up, first on Carlos’ message, and then on Lando’s.

“Lando?”

“Mate, just look at your phone,” Lando chirped happily, and Carlos groaned and did so. His eyes widened.

“I didn’t think—”

“I think everyone’s been waiting for an excuse,” Lando explained. He rested his cheek on his sweet, angry husband’s thigh, and smiled up at him. Carlos’ eyes softened once more as he looked at Lando, and he even leaned forward to thread his fingers through Lando’s curls. Lando resisted the urge to shiver. “None of us are really happy. ‘sides from maybe Daniel. But I don’t think he likes feeling left out, anyway.”

“It will be huge if Lewis can come,” Carlos mused. “But maybe he will feel like he cannot go against his team? Same with George…”

“They’ll come,” Lando said flatly. “They like you.”

“Ay, it’s not about that—”

“I know,” Lando said, moving to catch Carlos’ fingers between his lips. “It’s about a lot of things. But babe, everyone likes you. And they know what happened to you could have been fucking scary. It could have happened to any of us, but it happened to you. They’ll all come.”

“And you?” Carlos asked, his smile wider now. “Will you come?”

“I’m not missing the party of the year,” Lando sniffed. Carlos laughed, low and earnest, and Lando nuzzled his fingers. He was cognizant now of being on the ground, at his husband’s feet, his face on Carlos’ thigh, Carlos’ fingers so tantalizing in his hair, against his lips. It would be so easy to just—

Carlos’ phone buzzed, and Carlos and Lando broke apart. When had they started kissing? Carlos sighed and reached for his phone, while Lando quietly got off Carlos’ lap, wondering at his own lack of restraint.

“It’s Seb,” Carlos said, surprised. He picked up the phone while Lando started looking around Carlos’ suite. Ah, shit, the lube. They needed to put that way somewhere. Where did they leave the plu—

“Wow. Thank you, Seb,” Lando heard Carlos laugh, genuine appreciation in his voice. “Thank you. And yes, I’m okay. I think we all wish you were here this weekend. Thank you again. Bye.”

“What?” Lando asked as he meandered to the bathroom and saw more evidence of his and Carlos’ debauchery. He sighed and set about cleaning the bathroom.

“He’s going to give interviews on our behalf so we can stay quiet the whole time,” Carlos said, and he sounded truly excited. “We won’t need to talk to anyone. We can just be here.”

Lando smiled widely. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pushing Carlos. “Then make yourself useful and clean this place up,” Lando called. “We’ve got guests coming!”

“Lewis is getting drinks,” Carlos said, laughing, completely ignoring Lando. “And Checo said he’s getting everyone dinner. Nando said he will let only Spanish media know. George says he will be late, but he’s going to have someone make a statement for the GPDA. Lando! This is happening!”

“I told you that,” Lando sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile at Carlos’ excitement. He wanted to kiss Carlos, but someone had to be useful and clean.

Oh, fuck. He wouldn’t be able to kiss Carlos.

“Beds!” Carlos suddenly yelped. “Where will people sleep?!”

“Tell someone to figure it out!” Lando called back. Carlos’ excitement (and hysteria) was infectious.

“Okay. Okay. I will do this.”

Lando just kept smiling. And cleaning.

So much fucking cleaning.

[toshisurtsdottir]

Rape and Retribution - Chapter 1

Yesterday, I asked if you'd like to read my Turpin fanfic. I decided that I'd upload it, see how it goes and if it goes well I'll keep posting it :) Technically, it's finished BUT there are a lot of scenes in between that are missing which I might add - we'll see. OH AND: It's kinda fluffy?? But also pretty dark. Idk. Find out I guess haha WARNINGS (for the entire fanfic): mentions of rape, rape, mentions of violent torture, violence, death, murder, NSFW ... and many more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary: Toshi Vernier has a plan for her future. To gain her freedom, she has to get in contact with the ruthless Judge Turpin. He has other plans for her.

On the bustling streets of London, a thief could easily walk past dozens of people unnoticed by any of them. Today, Toshi had no intention of stealing, however. She had something else in mind entirely, something that was part one of her big path to freedom. The young woman was dressed up in men’s clothes: grey pants, an off-white blouse and a grey vest. Her long, white hair was hidden beneath a hat that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. From afar, one might say that she was just a small man going about his business. A bit shady looking perhaps, but that was the usual.

She was stalking around the courthouse, waiting patiently for Judge Turpin to emerge. She knew he would sooner than later. She had studied his behaviour for a few days now, finding out his schedule. Right on time, the heavy doors swung open and two men emerged. The tall judge, wearing a long coat that would make anyone else who wore it seem small. It seemed to be working the opposite on him, it just made him taller. Next to him, the Beadle. Beadle Bamford was a small man, rattish and always on the judge’s heels. Toshi eyed the Beadle angrily. He was one of the men who had, once or twice, taken her father’s offer to use Toshi’s body for their own pleasure. Toshi didn’t remember how often he had had her, she usually erased these encounters from her memory. But she knew he had taken her at least once. As she stared at him, her jaw and fists clenched, she failed to notice that the Beadle had bid the judge goodbye and was now headed the opposite direction. She almost wasted her chance as Turpin made his way down the main street, nearly getting swallowed in the crowd. Toshi snapped out of it and shook her head, snaking her way through the masses of people until she could almost reach him. She would follow him until he was in a more secluded place, then she would talk to him. She had trouble keeping up with the man. People got out of his way (he was a person of power after all) but they kept getting in Toshi’s. Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to keep up, Turpin turned into a less frequented street. This was her chance.

“Judge Turpin! My Lord!” She called out, quickly jogging up to him. Clearly irritated, he turned around, his eyes instantly fixed on her figure. His nose scrunched up in disgust and he was about to turn and walk off when Toshi spoke a second time. “Please Sir, hear me out! I have important news you must know, my Lord!” She wasn’t one to address people by their titles, or show any kind of manners, but she needed to in this situation. She knew about Turpin that he saw everyone else beneath him and wanted them to treat him accordingly. “Spit it out, boy.” He hissed, albeit he didn’t stop walking or slowed down. Toshi was already out of breath, keeping up with him and speaking at the same time was a hard task to do. “My Lord, your life might be in danger! I came to –“ she stumbled over a small rock “- to warn you!”

Turpin then stopped dead in his tracks, causing Toshi to almost smack into him. He turned around, slowly, his eyes wandering from her face down to her chest (where they seemed to linger for a while), then down to her feet and finally flicked back up to her face. “And what, may I ask, makes you think so? The scum that inhabits these streets usually wants me dead. These are not news. You are wasting my time, child.” He hissed in a low tone, his jaw clenched. “Please, Sir. I am referring to a man known as Sweeney Todd. You see, my Lord, he is not who he seems. Or so they say.” She fumbled with the buttons on her vest nervously. She wasn’t one to get nervous in front of men. Her usual feeling towards them was rage. But he was dangerous, truly dangerous. And she was playing an even more dangerous game right now. “Todd?” He tilted his head, waiting for her to go into detail. Toshi didn’t want to let him wait.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve heard people say his true name is Benjamin Barker. Lost his wife and daughter… say he’s out to get revenge, my Lord.”

The last month, ever since getting that information, she had done a lot of research on Barker and Turpin. She knew that Turpin was responsible for Barker’s ruined life. She needed to get on the Judge’s good side (a vital bit of her freedom plan) and since she had no money to bribe him (unlike others), she hoped vital information would suffice.

Turpin’s eyes remained fixed on hers, a tired expression on his face. If this news worried him, he certainly didn’t let it show. “Benjamin Barker you say?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a long drawl.. Toshi only nodded in response, hoping that he would like the information she had just given him. “He is supposedly back in his old home currently, in Fleet Street, working as a barber as he did before.” And after a pause: “My Lord.” Something then changed in Turpin’s expression. It seemed to be a mixture of worry, anger and something that Toshi couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Who are you?” He frowned, his eyes flicking down to her chest again.

“My name is Toshi Vernier, Sir.” Clearly, her name didn’t give him more insight on her gender, as his eyes kept flicking from her face to her chest. “I’m dressed as a man, so you’d listen to me, my Lord.” She quickly added. His expression softened as soon as he heard her say that. The fact she was female somehow changed his demeanour. “I see.” A long pause followed as he once more eyed her as if to confirm what she had just said. “I assume, given your disguise and secretive manner, that you want something in return for this information.” He sighed. Toshi wondered if he was used to this kind of exchange. She could imagine that most people would approach him to gain his favour. She wondered how many people actually got it.“I might, my Lord. If this information saves your life, I would like you to remember that I was the one to give it to you.” She nodded, taking off her hat, looking up at him hopefully.

Turpin walked closer to her, causing her to back up a little. Before she could get too far away, however, he grabbed her by the collar and roughly pulled her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me, that you’re somehow involved in this, I will make sure you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your unworthy life.” He hissed, shook her and then pushed her away from him. She stumbled back into a nearby wall. He smirked, satisfied by his action, and turned around to leave.

Toshi’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched him leave. This had gone exceptionally well in her mind.

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update - Rescue Wheels Edition™

Slowly but surely, the Rescue Wheels merchandise has been popping up in stores here in the USA. Naturally, I've been keeping an eye out for them, so it's time to show off what I've found so far!

First off, I decided to put a background on my monitor again, just to spruce things up. I also attempted some better lighting by using a lamp instead of my camera's flash. Some pics still came out a bit iffy, so I apologize.

In any case, here's the first piece of Rescue Wheels merchandise I got! Nearly a whole month ago, in fact. I seen it listed on Amazon and figured why not go for it, since stores here in the USA were taking a long time to get them.

The vehicle, itself... it's not my favorite, I'll say that. It's just shaped a little too box-like, but the flame graphics are cool, even if they are just stickers. Strangely, the ladder water cannon on the back doesn't move at all. If anything, I do like the figurine. Not the best, but I still like it.

Next, the usual plush doll, which we always seem to get upon each new subseries or movie. They decided to go back to the old style, which is kind of a shame, since I liked what we got for The Mighty Movie and Jungle Pups better. It just looked cuter, imo. Ah well.

Now that's one cool-looking pup. Super cute! 😎

Next, a new "Pup Squad Racer" vehicle! With not-so-good lighting that I didn't notice until I upload these pics. I probably should've put it on something to get more of that background in the shot. Also, ignore the dust under the monitor... I forgot to get rid of that. 😅

As you can see, this is yet another one of those smaller vehicles. I'm fully convinced these are indeed meant to be replacements for those True Metal vehicles... which is perhaps for the best, since the last few we got were kind of cheap. These are a nice alternative.

Unlike the True Metal vehicles, the pup's head is a lot bigger, so it's a bit more detailed and nicer. I dare say it's pretty cute! And...

...Hey, wait a minute. Who's big tires are those? That doesn't look like Marshall's vehicle...

Wait...

Is it...?

BOOMER??

That's right! Boomer, the villain pup of Rescue Wheels, got his own figurine and vehicle! I'll admit, that's quite rare, since PAW Patrol villains rarely ever get merchandise of any kind. It's only happened a few times in the past.

If you remember that character spotlight post I made of Boomer, then you might also recall that I became quite a big fan of this pup after watching Rescue Wheels! Thus, when I heard he was getting his own toy, I knew I had to have it. Admittedly, I think his vehicle turned out a bit nicer than Marshall's. Don't tell anyone I said that.

His figurine's also nice, if you ask me. Even as a toy, this pup looks quite cool... and cute! I'll certainly have to add this somewhere to my Marshall collection. He'll go nicely next to Claw. Two of my favorite villains, hanging out. We just need this in the cartoon now! lol

Oh, by the way, if anyone's interested in one of these, know that they're exclusive to Walmart (at least, here in the USA). They also made one for Roxi, which I believe is exclusive to Target. Just an FYI.

But wait... that's not all! Even more surprising than the vehicle...

Boomer also got a plush doll! Wow, you really lucked out, Boomer! At this point, I'm hoping the kids asks their parents for these and his figurine & vehicle... that way, Spin Master will see him as popular and we'll see him again someday soon. Hey, let me dream. lol

That is also one cool-looking pup! Boomer! Boomer! Boomer!!! 😁

Alright, that's all for now. And a good thing, too... after all these purchases, my poor wallet is probably screaming at me again. Too bad I'll likely make one or two more soon, since Rescue Wheels got its own batch of mini-figurines in mystery boxes, of course. Sadly, Boomer didn't get included in that, else Marshall wouldn't be the only one I'd be tracking down. It's still crazy to see him get what he did though! Man, if only Claw got his own plush doll instead of Sweetie...

So... what's next? I wonder how much longer until we start to see merchandise of Air Rescue? Then again, the USA hasn't even aired Rescue Wheels yet, so no doubt it won't be until next year. Good... that gives my wallet plenty of time to recover. lol

[roboneco]

Who sent the email to Sam?

It was "from Jon" as Sam said, or at the very least it seemed like that. It is only a name. Could be "him". Could be fake. But why the name Jon, specifically?

First, all we know about the email is that it was sent with a name, an address, and from an internal email. The name and address being of Gerry specifically, and not of Gertrude because she's not who Sam asked for. That's it.

Here's where I got confused. Why exactly did Sam ask Gerry about the magnus institute?? From this alone, this shouldn't occur to him. Maybe he researched the name and ,as he claimed then, found a list of the kids who were there.

But...well... while Sam is competent & of course he was always obsessed with the institute after what happened to him....if he had a way to find the list himself, do you think he would have waited until someone sent him an email to go look for answers??

Of course not! He'd have already checked every single name on the list! Or at least looked for better leads than just begging people to trauma dump on him. I think someone else gave him the list. Or really the idea to ask about the list.

(I for some reason can't upload pictures so I'll settle for copy pasting the parts I want).

SAM: Right. Of course. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Magnus Institute?

SAM: I was on one of their gifted kids programs and – um – I got hold of a list of a few of the other kids, and thought it might be nice if we could get in contact, swap stories and that…

GERTRUDE: I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t think Gerry can help you –

GERRY: (casually) Yeah, I barely remember any of it.

SAM: Oh, so you were a candidate?

To me it sounds like Sam was winging it. He hesitated before mentioning the list as if he wasn't sure it existed. he then seems almost surprised when Gerry confirms he was in the institute.

My guess is he never saw the list! My guess is whoever sent Sam the email had heard about his connection to the institute, and sent him a lead vague enough not to cause suspicion to who may have sent it & THEN personally planted in his head the idea that the lead & institute were connected.

Now, who do we know that: knows of the name Jon, interested in the magnus institute, and Sam trusts enough to listen to their advice about something he already wanted to do?

Bingo. It is Celia. Celia is the one who sent the Jon email & I have more proof.

1- this exchange right after leaving Gerry's house:

SAM: …Thanks for coming with me, Celia. I know we’ve only been working together a few weeks.

CELIA: Hey, it was my idea, remember?

hm? Your idea you say. good to know, bestie!

2- it makes sense for her to use any name really. I don't think it matters. But we should remember that when she listened to her first case (by Chester) right after that Sam got his email. Literally in the same episode.

3- she was in a podcast with Georgie in this world (as far as Sam & google know at least) so it makes sense for her to be able to search & find the list!!

4- this is weak but well.... She works in the OIAR... She has an internal email and could make another one (or hack her way through or something).

I am sure there are other things that I just can't remember right now but anyway that leaves some questions

Why did she take the painting?

Why Gerry? I understand how she could find the list but why choose him? I doubt either Melanie or Georgie mentioned him before. Was it random? Plot reasons? Or maybe her target wasn't Gerry, but Gertrude.

She could know about Gertrude. She was the last archivist after all. But she wants a reason to go without someone suspecting her personally. So after some research (stalking) figures out she has a roommate. And hey would you look at that. The guy's name is in the list of kids experimented on by the magnus institute. And oh? Who is also on the list? Her new coworker. Now isn't that a funny coincidence! It would be a shame if someone were to.... Maybe.... Use this opportunity for totally, definitely ethical reasons.....such as sending Sam a little email & connecting him with an old friend!

I think of this because Celia is the one who asked Gerry if he lives alone. She directed the conversation to ask about Gigi.

Anyways I had maaaannny more thoughts about this. Alas, I am tired & going to bed.

Have I mentioned that Celia lives I'm my head rent free. Sorry, wanted to say it, in case it wasn't obvious.

[thegoldenuzi]

Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.

Neville Goddard, Your Faith is Your Fortune

Long Post incoming lol

In this day and age social media has become increasingly more toxic. People feel they have the right to be hateful, the right to have opinions on strangers and actively tear them down. Even I have fallen into the trap of allowing people like this to distract me from my path of inner peace. It’s hard seeing people be so nasty everywhere. Sometimes you just wanna reason with them but it’s all in vain. They don’t care. They’re content with the way they are. Just today I seen two popular figures get into a misunderstanding. The way fans rushed to tear one of them apart. It was disgusting to watch. Someone even uploaded a 2 year old clip with a fake caption claiming it was in reference to the current situation. They spared no resources to try and garner more hatred toward this person. Admittedly it frustrated me, because I allowed it to. Now that I have had time to reflect I have a different perspective that I want to share with you all. Just in case you might find yourself feeling this way.

I’m currently reading a book called the Mastery of Love. This book covers the way we relate to others, to ourselves and to life in general. Most people live off fear. They don’t accept themselves they don’t love themselves so they put on this fake persona in order to be accepted. We see this the most on the internet. People do and say things to gain validation from strangers. The sense of community they feel when someone also hates the same person they do. It’s exciting for them because they are disturbed inside. When I dislike someone they don’t exist in my reality. I don’t go out of my way to post about them or join others in a smear campaign. I simply don’t engage with them or their content. I love myself enough to not allow another person to have that much control over my attention. It’s cliche but misery does love company. It gives them that acceptance they can’t give themselves because they don’t respect themselves.

I’ve learned that it is not our job to change someone who’s mind is already made up. They feel the way they feel based on their perception of the world. If that doesn’t align with mine, then I don’t need to be involved with that person. It’s best not to try to make it a goal to change these people. Our job as Neville said, is to change ourselves which in turn will change our experience with unwanted situations. If we choose to be happy and to feel love within, then people and circumstances will replace what we currently experience. Instead of looking at these people as dumb frustrating beings, look at them for what they truly are. Hurt people who live in their own mental prisons. They are sick and it’s their job to heal themselves.

The Mastery Of Love says we are only responsible for our dream. Our truth is only the truth for us and nobody else. We don’t know what the other person is dreaming in their minds. In any relationship we are only responsible for our dream. If there is baggage we are only responsible for our baggage. It’s our job to clean up ourselves. If we feel the need to control or fix others, we don’t respect them. We don’t respect people to make their own decisions and their right to choose. So let’s do as Neville suggests and leave the world alone. Let them be, wish them well and remove your attention. Our highest selves wouldn’t waste their time debating with miserable people. They are responsible for their own realities. All we can do is change our relationship to the situation. Remember you always have the power to change your role and shift perspective.