#sprinter warning light

[fifthgearautomotive]

Maintaining your Mercedes Sprinter's AdBlue system is essential for performance and emissions compliance. Regularly check AdBlue levels, use quality products, monitor for leaks, and keep the system clean. Understanding factors that activate the warning light can prevent issues, ensuring a smooth and efficient driving experience.

[070chwe]

from a woman — nicholas a. chavez

summary — nicholas’ favourite part of every event is stripping the weight of the evening at home with you, along with the formal attire. inspired by from a woman by mariah the scientist.

word count — 1.6k

tags/warnings — suggestive towards end, established relationship!au, a load of self indulgent lovesick waffling, nic is a down bad introvert™

a/n — dedicated to my loveliest eternal brainworm buddy @titsout4nicholas because where would i be without u my baby breezy. it’s been like 3 years since i’ve written, let alone published so please be Kind. reblogs are appreciated!

The cacophony of camera shutters, the soft thrum of a slow R&B track, and the hundreds of layered conversations still echo in your ears, lingering like the faintest scent of perfume even now, 20 minutes after leaving the gala. The evening was a whirlwind—one he’s always halfway reluctant to step into. The flash, the glamour, the carefully curated conversations—it all has a way of exhausting him in a way few things do. And yet, it’s unavoidable. A necessary part of his world.

Nicholas has a love-hate relationship with these events, and he knows you do too. You’d much prefer a boozy brunch with his younger brother and his girlfriend or a late-night detour to a hidden, hole-in-the-wall wine bar where the two of you can melt into the anonymity of the darkened corner, away from prying eyes and familiar faces. Galas, premieres, high-profile shows—they rank high on his list of least favorite things about the job, symbols of a lifestyle he tolerates but doesn’t fully belong to. They feel hollow compared to those quiet, intimate moments you share together, where he can simply exist, undisturbed.

The warmth of your hand sliding into the freshly cut hair at his nape, your fingers threading gently through the soft strands, pulls him out of his thoughts, away from the smattering of raindrops trailing down the driver’s side window. Your touch is light, yet possessive, grounding him in a way nothing else can. He leans into it instinctively, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment as he savors the quiet intimacy.

His own hand, as if by reflex, drifts to your thigh, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress. The gesture is simple, almost automatic, but it speaks of a familiarity and comfort that words can’t capture. He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the rest of the world blurs, leaving only the two of you in this small, rain-kissed cocoon.

Sometimes, the feeling overwhelms him so much that he thinks he may be ill. He hasn’t been able to give it a name because, to him, love just doesn’t quite cover all bases. You represent a degree of normalcy in his life—a fixture for calm among all the chaos. Sharing new music finds over breakfast and drinking overpriced red wine to the tune of Solange. That’s when he’s happiest, when his head is the most quiet.

It’s just past 1 when the sprinter finally pulls to a rest outside the high-rise that houses your shared apartment. The city is a hum of distant lights and sounds, yet here, at this moment, it all fades into background noise.

Nic slides out of the van with a heavy exhale, loosening his tie as he follows you into the dimly lit lobby. His silence only breaks once you’re in the peaceful sanctuary of your apartment. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, and you watch as the tension he’s been carrying all evening seems to peel away with his blazer as he drapes it over a chair by the door.

“Of course, my love.” A hint of relief softens his expression as he catches your eye. You flash him a small, tender smile over your shoulder, sweet and familiar, just slightly lopsided where your canine meets the plush of your lower lip. It’s one of the things he’s always adored about you. He can’t help but smile back, his first genuine one of the night, as he follows the click of your heels into the kitchen.

You’re moving gracefully from cabinet to cabinet, pouring two glasses of deep red wine as the quiet of the apartment settles around you. He watches you, entranced by the simplicity of the moment. The familiar rituals—the clinking of glasses, the way you hand him his without a word—ease away the last threads of stress from the evening. “It was really lovely to see Cooper again,” you say, handing him a glass. “I missed him.”

Nic nods, taking a sip of the wine. “I know. I missed him too… but I think I missed this more.” He raises his glass, clinking it softly against yours, his gaze never leaving your face. Here, in the quiet of home, with the world locked outside, he’s finally where he wants to be.

Before long, the two of you are nestled together on the couch, your heels abandoned somewhere near the door and Nic’s tie totally undone around his neck. The soft pulse of a Majid Jordan song drifts through the room, setting a gentle rhythm to the night. The golden glow of the corner lamp casts warm shadows, wrapping around you like a private swaddle. You sit close, faces mere inches apart, sharing laughter and stolen glances as you exchange stories from the evening, each word slipping easily into the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Nic’s hand moves slowly along the length of your bare legs, his touch a soft, languid caress that leaves warmth in its wake. Every so often, his fingers pause to trace gentle shapes on your skin, little loops and spirals that make you shiver. His fingertips linger on the back of your thigh, drawing delicate, invisible I love you’s that you feel more deeply than words could express. Between quiet whispers and playful smiles, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as his gaze settles on you, warm and intense. He leans in slowly, his lips hovering just above yours, breath mingling in the charged silence. The teasing brush of his mouth is soft at first, a gentle taste, before he presses deeper, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His hand slides up your thigh, anchoring you to him as the kiss deepens, each touch and shared breath stoking the quiet, simmering heat that fills the room, drawing you both into something irresistible, something you don’t want to end.

“I should’ve known the red wine was a setup,” he murmurs with a smirk, barely pulling back as you playfully smack his chest. The laughter you share breaks through the tension, leaving you both grinning as Nic settles back into the couch, his lap open and inviting. You climb onto him, feeling his hands rest comfortably on your waist as you nestle into his embrace, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. Somehow, he makes every intimate moment feel like the first all over again, taking you back to late nights in college bars and stolen moments in his dorm room, where everything felt new and thrilling.

Even now, he still makes you feel giddy, like that young, lovestruck freshman, dreaming of a future with him—a white picket fence, a home filled with laughter, maybe a couple of kids running around. Each touch, each glance brings those dreams rushing back, making you feel as if you’re right back at the beginning, falling for him all over again.

Nic watches you, noticing the way your gaze seems to drift, lost in thought even as your eyes rest on his. A small, knowing smile curves his lips, and he lets out a soft, amused huff before giving his legs a gentle nudge to draw you back.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting, reaching out to pull you closer until you’re nestled comfortably against him, fully present with him once more.

His fingers trail up your back, tracing soft, languid patterns that send shivers through you as you settle deeper against him. His touch is gentle yet intentional, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, the two of you sharing a breath in the quiet warmth of the room. His gaze meets yours, a familiar smolder that sends heat spreading through you, and the world outside blurs, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with something deliciously dark, “I think we should take this to the bedroom, instead.”

The words sink into the silence, charged with a longing that leaves you breathless. His thumb brushes across your cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contrasts the intensity of his gaze. He leans in slowly, capturing your lips in a deep, unhurried kiss, savoring the closeness, the taste of you. His hand slides up, fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you even closer, the warmth of him seeping through your skin.

You feel a rush of boldness, your hands moving to the buttons of his shirt, deftly unfastening each one until the fabric falls open, revealing the smooth skin and taut muscle beneath. You let your fingers trace along the dips and valleys of his chest, his heartbeat slightly erratic as your nails graze the skin. The feel of him, solid and steady, grounds you even as the intensity between you builds. You part just enough to look at him, taking in the way his chest rises and falls, his breathing as unsteady as yours.

The shared look says it all, an unspoken agreement in the glimmer of his eyes, in the way his hands skim down your sides, leaving trails of sparks in their wake. Without a word, he shifts, adjusting himself so that he can lift you easily, legs coiled around his waist as he carries you through the soft-lit rooms to the familiar, inviting comfort of your bed.

As he lays you down, he pauses, gaze roaming over you with a mix of reverence and desire. His fingers brush down your arm, pausing to intertwine with yours, grounding you in the quiet intensity of the moment. Here, where the moonlight and cityscape filters through the open blinds, there’s no rush, only the anticipation building between you, thick and sweet.

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, each one a promise, a reminder of how much he loves you. And as his lips find yours again, slow and leisurely, you know tonight will be one to remember.

[i05wook]

NOW LOADING... 守りたい

PAIRING: SHEN RICKY X GN! READER

GENRE: ANGST, FLUFF, NON-IDOL AU, DOCTOR AU

SUMMARY: WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU SUFFER AN INDESCRIBABLE EVENT THAT SHOCKS YOU TO THE CORE? RICKY IS ALWAYS THERE TO PROTECT YOU.

WORD COUNT: 700+ WORDS

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF INJURIES, MENTIONS OF NIGHTMARES, READER IS A PARAMEDIC, MENTIONS OF CAR CRASHES, MENTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS, MENTIONS OF NIGHTMARES, AND POSSIBLY MORE.

AUTHORS' NOTES: ONCE AGAIN I'M BACK AFTER A COUPLE OF MONTHS AWAY FROM MY BLOG, BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE INCREDIBLE RICKY FROM ZB1!! THE TITLE WAS INSPIRED BY A NEW WORD I LEARNT RECENTLY IN JAPANESE AND I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE PERFECT TITLE FOR SOMETHING RICKY BASED!!

DOWNLOADING...██████████

15th May 2024. Work had been incredibly busy, and only 2 hours of your 12 hour shift had passed. You and your partner had only just reached a lull in emergencies or so you thought. They always say don’t think its too quiet when in your line of work, and that’s exactly what you did, and now you’ve jinxed it. The transponder in your vehicle began to ring, and you were soon assigned an emergency to respond to. You were only a few minutes from the incident, so you turned on the emergency lights and headed towards the location you were given. You had only received a few minor details about the incident; it was a road traffic collision involving two cars and that there were three casualties, all male, and the driver off one of the cars had gone through a red light at a junction causing the collision. You arrived relatively quickly to the scene and began to assess one of the casualties, he seemed to only have a few cuts and bruises to his chest and hands, presumably caused by the airbag in the front of the car which deployed on impact. You detailed this to another crew member who had just arrived to the scene and headed to assess the other casualties. That was until you noticed a head of bleach blonde hair marred red with blood in the back of the vehicle. The side of the vehicle, a sprinter van, had been absolutely crushed upon impact, and you guessed that whoever made the call to the emergency services had not realised the additional casualty at the back of the vehicle. He looked in a bad way. As he lay there unconscious, the bone of his left arm, pierced his milky skin, that was now black and blue upon the injury he had sustained. Blood stained his white undershirt suggesting he had incurred an injury there as well. Finally you decided to address the possibility of facial injuries following the impact of the accident, and that was when you realised it was your beloved boyfriend. His face littered with open wounds and fragments of glass from the shattered window that was beside him.

Upon your realisation, you dropped to your knees, tears running down your flushed cheeks. Panic began to set in, your breathing became laboured as you began to hyperventilate. How could this have happened to you? You had only been speaking to him moments before you received the call, and he was awake and uninjured. Thoughts were racing through your head as you began to feel dizzy, and soon enough it all went black. You shot up out of your bed, sweat dripping from your forehead and neck. Your pillow was soaked wet through with a mixture of sweat and tears. You leant over to check your phone to see the date. It read 16th May 2024. Immediately you knew you had to dial Ricky’s number to quell your fears. His phone rang once, then twice, and by the third call your mind had told you that what you thought was a dream was your new reality. That was until Ricky picked up on the fifth ring. By this point however, your mind had worked itself up like it had in your nightmare, and you felt as though someone was sitting on your chest.

Your lack of an answer when Ricky picked up the call must have worried him, as he called out your name to prompt an answer, but you were too busy focusing on your breathing. Your hand shaking so much your phone cluttered to the floor likely creating a large crash on Ricky’s side of the line. Several minutes passed and a loud knock on your front door brought you to your senses. You clambered yourself together before rushing to the front door. As soon as you opened the door, Ricky enveloped your trembling body in his arms, bringing you as close to his warm body as he could. “It’s okay darling, you’re safe now. Everything’s alright.” Ricky tried to calm you down. Your small hands grasped tightly onto Ricky’s freshly pressed blazer, creasing the collar. But Ricky wasn’t bothered by that, he was more worried what had caused you to become so worked up. He slowly walked into your apartment closing the front door behind him before walking to your bedroom, still holding you tightly to his chest. He pulled the pair of you down on to your bed and began to play with your hair, your head leaning on his chest. After several minutes, you slowly began to calm down after reaching up to touch his face to make sure he was in fact there and not a figment of your imagination. Soon enough, you began to fall back into a trouble free sleep, but Ricky couldn’t help but be worried about you. His hand constantly running through your hair. He can always find out what happened to you the following morning. “I want to protect you, darling,” you heard, before you drifted off in to a peaceful sleep.

[dawnagustd]

throat goat || jhs

⇝ title: Throat Goat ⇝ pairing: rapper!hoseok x stylist!reader ⇝ genre: smut | slight frenemies with benefits ⇝ summary: The only thing you and Hoseok can agree on is that you know how to snatch his soul every time. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 2k ⇝ warnings: unedited | strong language | reader is having a rocky sex life but nothing major | light bickering | degradation | semi-public sex | blowjob | tiddie fucking | reader is a baddie; let’s be real | slight power play dynamics | rude!hobi but he’s just frustrated | hoseok manspreading is a warning | teasing | spit/saliva play for lube | name calling | cum swallowing/eating | a little strip tease | breast fondling/groping | throat fucking | hair pulling | both of them confuse the hell out of me | open ending for those who don’t like those | reader is a “giver” | gagging | some aftercare | mixed emotions i guess | i think that’s all ⇝ author’s note: We’re late, but we’re here. This is my gift to the Hoseok heauxs(myself). It’s unedited but promising lol. You’ll see what I mean. Anyway, please enjoy this pwp. If you aren’t into the degrading stuff please don’t read this because though it isn’t too bad, the way he speaks to her in some moments is out of pocket lol. He doesn’t mean it, though (I think). Banner by @badgalsgetinfree​ (myself) ⇝ playlist: Pretty Girls Walk by Pretty Boss Vette | Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa | Don’t Play With It by Lola Brooke & Billy B

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

“You wanted to see me?”

The door closes behind you and separates you from all the noises outside. All you hear now is a bunch of muffled voices and faint thuds as people move around backstage. It’s a big night, so the entire crew is busy making sure everything’s in order.

Hoseok has toured across the globe, and now it’s time for the grand finale. It’s only fitting he ends the journey where it all started. He wants everything to be perfect, so everyone’s been put through hell today, including you. 

“No. I don’t.” The tone of his voice indicates his irritation. You know it isn’t towards you no matter what he says. He’s just stressed; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in here. “I just want some head.”

Of course, he does.

You give the man a little sample, and now it’s his lifeline. Though you have to admit it’s been satisfying you as well. It’s surprising to you because usually, you get bored quickly, but somehow Hoseok has managed to keep this going for this entire tour duration. 

The first time it happened you were on his private jet. The second time, in the back of the sprinter, while everyone was getting food. 

Anytime the opportunity was given, you’d swallow him up. And now, he can’t get enough.

“What makes you think I have it to give?”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he gripes.

With an eye roll, you walk over to where he’s sitting in nothing but some boxers, manspreading on the couch as if he has all the time in the world. You look down at him scrolling through his phone while you stand there between his legs.

“I can’t tell.”

“Fuck. Are you gonna do it or what?”

You sigh. “I guess so.”

Honestly, you’re ecstatic deep down. In simple terms, you’re a “pleaser.” You enjoy taking someone to their ultimate high and then seeing them bathe in it while they come down. As for yourself, you’ve never really gotten off from being on the receiving end. You rather be in charge of your own orgasms; that way you’ll come every time. 

You start to drop to your knees, but he stops you. 

“Take something off.”

“You’re running out of time, Hoseok.”

“You get paid to dress me, not manage my time. So maybe you should chill out before that’s not a thing anymore.”

It’s an empty threat. You aren’t going anywhere. No one does this job like you. 

No one.

“Have it your way,” you shrug. You take off your glasses and carefully set them on the small table. Hoseok has finally put his down just in time to watch you unbutton your sheer blouse, revealing your black lace bra underneath. You toss your shirt at him, and he catches it. You don’t miss the split-second pause before he puts it aside, probably wanting to inhale your perfume. “Is this okay?”

You spread your arms, displaying yourself for him, only for the rapper to shake his head. The next thing you take off is your bra, and his eyes begin to twinkle in the dimly lit dressing room.

“What about now?”

You squeeze your breasts together, giving him a little show while you wait for an answer. He sits up in his seat and places his hands at your sides. The warmth of his palms travels across your skin as he ventures up your body.

“Yeah, that’ll do it for me.”

Your body leans toward him while he cups your mounds, massaging them in his hands and even drawing a few moans from your lips. His lips delicately graze your flesh, and before he can get too carried away, you push him away.

“If you like them that much, I’ll show you a trick,” you tell him.

You drop to the floor and start pulling down his underwear. There’s not a second to waste. Soon this room will be filled with your team and others so all of you can get him ready for his performance. 

His dick is at attention as soon as it jumps out of his boxers. You lick your lips, already tasting his essence just by looking at the clear substance forming at the tip. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you position yourself over him and allow a generous amount of saliva to coat his cock. He hisses from the contact, already sensitive and eager to blow his load.

“Hurry up,” he grunts, displaying nothing but impatience. You smirk, knowing you find pleasure in giving him exactly what he’s asking for.

“Sure.”

Once his dick is adequately lubricated, you lean forward with mouth already open, and your throat relaxed. You wrap your mouth around the head and take him inch by inch until the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You use the opportunity to coat him with more spit until your lungs are burning from lack of air. You pull off and release him with a pop, repeating the action until you’ve teased him so much that he turns red.

“Bitch, stop playing around,” he growls, gripping your hair. 

Hoseok guides you to his cock, and you don’t object as he pushes your head down. He thrusts inside you, making you gag and choke around his girth. Your eyes begin to water as he penetrates your airways, leaving you lightheaded and gushing arousal into your panties. You’re thankful your shirt is short because the chill in the room is working overtime to cool down the pulsing heat between your legs. If you weren’t planning on using your hands tonight, you’d already have your fingers buried in your soaking cunt.

“Fuck are you doing to me?”

The gasp he makes when you start slurping and sucking him is the highlight of your night. You know he’s amazed by how much of him you can take in at once without needing to breathe, so that’s why you make it a point to show him there are many unlocked levels he hasn’t even discovered yet. Things he’ll probably never get to discover.

Tonight’s the last show. When the tour’s over, you’re taking a long vacation, and Hoseok will be the last person on your mind. This is fun, but you’d rather be doing this on the beach or something.

“Shit,” he whispers. 

You hope he doesn’t think you’re letting him come this quickly.

He gets angry when you release him, but you aren’t done. You poke out your chest and smother his cock with your tits. You watch him unravel as you push them together and bounce them up and down on his dick. The lewd squelching sound of your saliva fills the room and encourages you to keep going.

“Hoseok.”

“Shut up,” he groans, eyes closed as he tries to stay seated. “I don’t want to hear you.”

His nails dig into the couch while he struggles to ground himself.

“Why? Because I make you feel good?�� 

“No, you aren’t special. Just convenient.”

“Convenient?” you laugh. “I like it. And you like me.”

“What? No, I–Fuck.”

Hoseok’s cock begins to twitch, and you know he’s at his peak. You switch back to sucking him, and within a few seconds, you’re milking him for everything he’s worth.

He moans and whimpers into the palm of his hand, hoping no one has heard him crying out your name. To save his pride, you pretend as if it never happened, but you definitely heard every syllable each time he called for you.

You swallow every drop and slowly remove him from your mouth. When he softens, you grab the shirt he came in with and start cleaning up the mess on both of you. Hoseok stays in his position, eyes closed as he comes down from his high. 

As much as you’d love to watch him blossom in his post-orgasmic state, there’s no time. It’s time to get ready.

“Hoseok, can you help me up? I’m wearing heels.”

He finally snaps out of it and springs into action. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

“You’re good. I just don’t want you to be late.”

He helps you up and helps you get your clothes back on. You do it in silence. Neither of you wants to be the one who says something first. Nobody really wants to bicker after something like what you two just did.

“We’re good, right?” he asks after you’ve turned away to retrieve his clothes. “I don’t really remember anything I said.”

You can’t help but laugh. 

“If I didn’t like something, I’d tell you. Trust me.”

You pick out the last outfit on the rack, the one he picked, but when you turn around to take them to him, he’s already standing in front of you. He startles you, and you almost drop the clothes.

“Shit, Hoseok. You scared me.”

“You wanna come home with me tonight?”

Woah.

You were afraid this would happen. If he’s too attached, then—

“No, I’m not interested in you. I was just…thinking.”

Your head tilts with curiosity. “About?”

“Maybe I can help you with your little issue,” he suggests.

You should have known.

Hoseok has wanted to fuck you ever since you fucked around on the airplane. But you’ve shut him down every time with a “I’ll think about it.” 

You have thought about it, and you can’t lie and say you haven’t been interested. You’re just worried you’ll be disappointed. You don’t want to ruin the fantasies you’ve had about him. What if he can’t deliver?

“Just spend a few days with me,” he adds. “Like we talked about.”

You sigh. “Hoseok, we’ve gotta get ready now.”

You ask him to step aside, but of course. He’s persistent. 

“Look, you can’t gobble me up like that and expect me not to pay you back,” he winks.

You can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach that flutter at his words, but you’re still tangled up in the worst scenarios. It’s silly; you'd rather be horny than have bad or average sex.

“And what if I’m not interested? What if we don’t get along?”

“I live in a mansion, love. You won’t even have to see me if you don’t want to. Leave when you want, come to my room whenever you want to. Like I said, it’s up to you.”

A knock on the door brings the pressure on. If you don’t answer now, then it’s decided for you because you won’t be able to speak about this. He’ll be busy, and so will you. This is it.

“I–”

More knocking and voices of people waiting to rush in and prepare for the show. Hoseok tells them he’s getting dressed, but that’ll only hold them for a little bit. Your mind is having a tug of war because you’re so stubborn, but you’re also curious. What if he’s as good as you’ve imagined?

“I’m not going to pressure you if you say yes,” he assures. “If you want it, you tell me.”

“We only have fifteen minutes!”

You know that it’s time when someone mentions the time. You take a deep breath and step out of your comfort zone because maybe it’s the reason you’re so horny in the first place. You have to give someone a chance. And who better than…

“Hoseok?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to kill it out there,” you say to him. 

You’re kind of surprised when he smiles at you because that’s never happened. 

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

You slip past him and make your way to the door to let in the staff, a growing smirk of your own gracing your face.

“Make sure you save some energy for me, though.”

But something tells you that you’ll be the one who needs to get some rest.

Either Hoseok’s about to rock your world, or you’re going to give each other the biggest headache you’ve ever had.

[yourlocaldilemma]

Golden Thoughts {part 4} (ln4)

Lando Norris x fem!sprinter!reader

word count: 2.1k

part 4/? part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

warnings: not edited

a/n: comment and reblog :) feedback is much appreciated! ______________________________________________

The cold corners, minimal furniture and stark white paint of Lando’s flat are the exact opposite of the bubbly boy that stands in front of you.

“Sooooo?” He drags out the word while bouncing on the balls of his feet. You’re standing in the kitchen, the ocean infront of you, cooking space behind you and his large flat spanning further to the right. 

“It’s completely lovely, it’s just not as you as I thought it would be.”

“Were you expecting a university frat boys place?” He tosses a smirk in your direction.

His response pulls a smile to your face. “I was expecting some art on the walls, maybe some of your merch lying around.”

“There’s merch in a closet somewhere,” he chuckles, “a lot of it.”

His voices softens into a curious tone. “As for the art, it’s complicated, but sometimes it feels easier to-, it’s almost-, I feel like-,”

“Like if you personalize it then it feels like home, and when it feels like home it be becomes that much more impossible to be away so much.” You finish his thought for him.

“Exactly.” A shared look of understanding flashes from your face to his. The sport may be different but you share a similar lifestyle.

Tapping your nails on the quartz counter to end the weighted silence, you seat yourself on one of the barstools placed beneath the kitchen island. 

“I cooked last time.” You explain after he makes no effort to move. 

Hesitantly he begins to pull utensils from shelves, looking severely out of place even in his own kitchen. There’s very little food in the large fridge, and less than 30 seconds into watching him try to slice a cucumber you decide to take over. His cuts are uneven, messy, and his fingers seem at high risk. 

“You don’t cook much do you.” 

“You’re judging! No judging!” He whines and laughs, rubbing his hands over his face. 

You join him behind the counter as you regain the same easy dance of cooking and conversation as in Australia. You learn that he always has chicken and salad before race day, he’s always wanted a kitten and you pick up on his habit of wringing his hands when he’s nervous or excited. By the time you finish cooking, you know more about him than you ever thought possible.

~~

Lando takes a running leap onto the couch like an overexcited puppy.   

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down that hallway to the right.” He points with a nod. Humming a thanks, you walk down the hallway he directed. The bathroom, not unlike the rest of the house, is almost completely white with only small silver features. The counter is scattered with what you assume to be an assortment of Lando’s colognes. 

You wander back into the living room to find Landos eyebrows scrunched and a twinkling light of amusement in his eyes as he looks down, features accentuated by the glow of a screen . The edges of your lips turn up in a slow smile at his childlike expression before you recognize the phone case as yours. Your heart skips a beat in advance of dropping into your suddenly cold stomach. 

Only after he raises his head to look at you do you realize you’ve been standing at the hallway entrance for long seconds. 

“Care to explain?” He twerks an eyebrow upwards and nods at your phone. Your rapidly beating heart doesn’t slow as you amble your way over to sit next to him on the couch, overly nervous for no exact reason.

When he flips the phone around to let you analyze the screen, The Notification Centre is overflowing with alerts. The first three pop ups that catch your eye are all courtesy of the F1 app. News Headlines and reports from qualifying sided with little pictures span the screen. 

“I don’t see what you find so entertaining. I never read those articles anyway.”

“Sometimes I do,” Lando ventures with a roll of his shoulders, “to know what people are mad at me for. That’s not what I was talking about though.”

You meet his ocean blue orbs as his deep pink lips stretch into a grin. what would it feel like to have them on your-

“You have my Instagram notifications on.” He stated proudly.

You lash out to snatch your phone from his grip, swiping to clear everything from your Lock Screen. 

Pointing your nose upwards dramatically, you reply with a sarcastic flourish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lando just hums a sunshiney tune under his breath and stares at you with a bright smile, like you just solved global hunger. 

“I’m going to find a movie now and you’re going to braid my hair.” You salute him behind his back as he moves to let you begin to braid. 

“How does the little mermaid sound?”

“Amazing.” You giggle at his choice. 

Not 20 minutes into the movie, you feel Landos now braid-adorned head drop onto your shoulder. You expect to see him grinning cheekily up at you but when you look down his eyes are closed, and he’s taking little soft breaths. 99.9 percent of you wants to shake him until he wakes up but with his race tomorrow you decided you can let him get some sleep. 

You focus on the movie, but feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket breaks your concentration. You see four messages from Charles and cross your fingers he doesn’t somehow know you’re at Landos as you unlock your phone. 

You know Lando is awake again when you feel tingling breaths on your neck as he peeks over you shoulder to look at your phone. Even though the texts are all written in French, it isn’t hard to translate the angry meaning of the emojis and multiple uses of Landos name. You can see him frown in the reflection of your phone and his mouth twitches as if he can’t decide what to say.

“He’s going to hate me forever.” You complain.

“He will never hate you. He just needs to get the fact that you’re not only his anymore through his thick head.” Lando wiggles further back into the couch. “He will, on the other hand, hate me forever, which might cause some problems for my PR team.”

A breathy laugh escapes your mouth as you tip your head back to meet the couch cushion. 

“I don’t think I was his in the first place.” You scold Lando with a sarcastic undertone that he doesn’t seem to catch seeing how quickly he sits up to look at you.

“I didn’t mean it like that of course you weren’t his, you’re nobody’s I just mean,” his rambling pauses thoughtfully, “I think he kept you a secret for more reasons then he told you.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about Lando?”

“I mean look at you. You’re absolutely gorgeous,body and soul. And you’re brilliant, and hilarious and independent, and I think you care a lot more than you let on. Charles knew that anyone who met you would never want to leave you alone, meaning he would lose more of you. So he kept you to himself.” 

Looking down at his lap, Landos flushed a deep rose colour that blooms from his neck to the tips of his ears. You can feel your face prickling with heat alike his. Those were not words that were exchanged by “just friends”. Your breaths sync as the room goes completely silent around you. 

“Thank you, Lando. That was beautiful. No one has said anything like that about me in a very, very long time,” you whisper, as his forehead swims closer and closer to yours in the thick air that filled the room as he spoke. 

“It’s true.”

“Lando.” You meant it as a warning but it comes out as more of a gentle whimper as you look up through your lashes to see his eyes, sapphire swirled with pastel teal and flecks of powder blue all in one. 

You watch his Addams apple bobs as he swallows and pulls away. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” 

You both return to watching the movie but the colors blur together and a grainy glaze slides over your eyes. The feeling of Lando being so close to you has a hazy veil over you. You’re still close enough you can feel his soft hoodie brushing against your arm.

“I should probably go soon. I have a really early flight tomorrow.”

“You could sleep here.”

He suggests it so easily, like you’d slept over at his place time and time again. 

“Lando, I barely know you and you barley know me.”

“I’d like to though.”

A hopeful smile makes your eyes crinkle as you look at him and Lando, who returns it, extends his legs to lie down on the couch. When he catches your pursed lips and the skepticism that roles off you in waves, he sighs. 

“One hour. It’s not that late and I’ll drive you back after.”

“Lando, I'm not good with things like this. I’ve always been someone who’s better alone. I didn’t have many friends growing up and track never helped with that much. And over time, I realized it’s better that way!”

“Because you won’t get hurt?”

“If you love someone or something, you’re giving them the ability to hurt you. I love sprinting with my entire soul, so that already one thing,” you shrug, “it’s just easier.”

“I get that. I truly do. But what I’ve learned is that if you don’t take the risk you could miss out on loving something that could make you happy.”

He catches your eyes and you can’t tear your gaze away from the jewels of his eyes. 

“Just an hour?” His dimples show as he gives you an endearing smile. 

~~~ 

You can feel bright sunlight on your eyelids and a warm entity encircling your body in a way that feels comfy and safe. The light only seems to grow until you inwardly moan and flip around in a fruitless attempt to escape the suns beams. Disoriented and tired, you split your eyes open the tiniest bit to allow the world to fade into view. 

The sun directly in your face once again, you shift again. A low groan rings from behind you and your memory returns in one fast SnapBack to reality. 

“Shit!”

the comforting warm blanket Lando groans again as you try to sit up. His hand is wrapped low and tight around your waist which must of happened sometime during the night. 

The night you weren’t supposed to spend at his house in the first place.

You hiss at him. “Lando! I have a flight this morning!”

He makes a noise of protest but releases his grip on you. 

You scramble around, swearing in multiple languages while trying to find your phone. Lando watches you, still not half awake, from the couch. When you find your phone face down on the floor, you turn it on to nine missed notifications from Charles and a clock reading 5:30 am. 

Heaving a sigh of partial relief you sit up straight and immediately notice the kinks in your back. You were going to pay for yesterday in more ways than one. 

“I still have two hours before I have to leave for the airport.” You state to no one in particular, your brain working a thousand miles a minute. 

“So things aren’t as bad as they seem. I’m still fucked mind you, just not as deeply. All my stuff is at my hotel still. Oh my-“ you pull at your hair as blood rushes to your head when you stand up. 

Lando pats the spot you were lying in only moments earlier. 

“Shit is going to get fucked either way Y/N. come back to bed.”

“Lando!”

“Just for 3 minutes? I’ll drive you to the airport after?” 

“Lando!!”

~~~~ 

After running around like a chicken with its head cut off, you make it to the airport seven minutes earlier then you wanted to. As you pull the luggage out of the boot of Landos car, you can see him fiddling with his hands again, pulling his rings on and off. 

Peeking his head over the dark tinted windows, he meets your eyes. 

“Thank you for having me for dinner. Even if you did trick me into spending the night at your place.” 

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while.” He smirks.

“Goodbye.” 

“Not goodbye.” 

You raise an arched eyebrow at him.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“You seem sure of that Mr. Norris.”

“I am.” He turns on his car and begins to inch away

You call after the slowly moving car. “Oh and Lando? Good luck tomorrow!” 

The morning sun glints off the top of his dark McLaren, the brake lights blinking red as he slows to peek his messy morning curls out the window. 

“I got my braid!”

[bazzybelle]

Square/Prompt: B3 - Furry

Title: Bang! Bang! (I'm Aiming At You)

Rating: Mature

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus / Hob Gadling

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Pining, Light Angst, Horny Dream, Bisexual Disasters, 5K of Morpheus Blue-Screening over how hot Hob is

Summary:

“God, my body is ruined. Gonna head straight home and draw myself a nice hot bath. Soak in there for a month, I think.” Robert clasps his hands together and lifts them high above his head stretching his shoulders and back. The scrubs, which were previously lifting slightly, end up exposing a small section of his stomach. A stomach that is tantalizingly covered in dark, thick hair. A stomach that all too quickly is covered once more as Robert lowers his arms and rolls his shoulders. It is too late, the damage is done. Images of a perfectly furried stomach, and a thick, dark trail leading under his scrub pants is all that enters his mind. A furried stomach that begs for fingers to trail over, twirling the small strands of hair between them. 

Link, if full work is posted elsewhere:

Got another short lil fic for you! I saw the prompt of Furry and knew right away that I had to have Morpheus just obsessing over Hob's hairy body. And because it's ME, I had to throw in a healthy dash of good ol' angst.

Thank you to @seiya-starsniper for beta-reading and providing some good suggestions on how to amp up the angst at the end.

Thank you always to the Chaotic Sprinters at the Sadman Discord Server.

If you are a MASSIVE fan of Grey's Anatomy, see if you can spot the Easter eggs. I've thrown a couple in there for you.

[seokith]

book thief! ㅡ song eunseok

00 : start of the villian arc 😈

sypnosis : song eunseok and y/n didn't know of each other's existence till an incident happened on the 25th of july, summer 2023. after the little incident in the dreamscape bookstore, they had accepted that they were enemies, or that's what eunseok had assumed. they met again at the start of a new school year, and eunseok had wished that they wouldn't cross each other's paths but the universe planned otherwise . .

warning : beware of.. horrible writing 😢

ೀ wc ; 753 .

back ㅡ masterlist ㅡ next

finally, it was time.

as yn tapped on her phone screen, it reads out 16:50 pm meaning, there was enough time for her to reach the bookstore right on time. she quickly put on her shoes with a smile on her face as the thought of kageyama and kenma filled her head and she lowkey.. well.. giggled like a crazy person. even her younger brother who passed her gave her a weird look.. not that yn cared, of course.

once ready, she bolted out of her newly moved-in house and headed straight for dreamscape bookstore. she knew that if she arrived late, she wouldn't stand a chance of getting the newly released volume of haikyuu, so she ran as fast as an olympic sprinter. the hot summer air, mixed with a light breeze, kissed her face as she ran, making her look like she was in a k-drama.

the loud sound of the bookstore door being thrown open filled the air as yn barged in. mr nanami, sitting at the counter, frowned at the sudden interruption of his peace.

“yn, i told you to quit opening the doors like that. you’re going break it.” mr nanami scolded the young girl as she rushed to his desk.

“i’m sorry mr nanami, i wont do it again but do you still have t-the—“ her words were shortly cut off as she tried to catch her breath.

mr nanami raised an eyebrow at the state she’s in and once he understood, he couldn’t help but to chuckle and took the last remaining copy of the haikyuu 37th volume.

“holy shit! mr nanami are you being serious?!” she exclaimed with her eyes shining… literally.

“why? don’t want it? i can just take it back.” mr nanami responded with a bored tone, clearly trying to threaten her and of course, yn fell for it since.. its not his first time doing it.

“no, no! you did this last time and you actually did! no way in hell im letting you take it back when its in my hands.” she replied in a panicked voice.

just how bad had mr nanami traumatised her, geez..

as yn was about to leave, another loud opening of the door echoed through the store and mr nanami couldn’t help but to groan louder. seriously! the store is going to break its door one day.

“mr nanami, do you still have the copy of the new haikyuu volume?” a young man hastily walked over to mr nanami’s desk.

“no, she has it.” mr nanami answered curtly.

the young man snapped his head towards yn and swiftly moved to her location with a determined gaze and asked,

“can i have that book? i usually get it when it’s released here.”

“what? can’t you see its already in my hands? better luck next time.” yn answered sassily.

irritated with her tone, the young man stretched his hand and tried to take it out of her grasp but yn was quick enough to grip the book hard.

“give it to me!”

“no! i got it first, the fuck!?”

“im the one who always gets it first!”

“maybe its not your lucky day!”

and so it continues.. they kept that on going for god, knows how long and mr nanami was far more than irritated than before. ‘fine whatever, they’re teens,’ he convinced himself but he felt himself ticked when they bumped into a display in the corner.

“for the love of god, can you two take this outside!? be careful of that book! if any of you tears it, you guys have to pay at a full price, i dont care!” mr nanami suddenly burst from his desk.

“yn, eunseok, you’re both old enough to not act like kids so stop it! even haku who’s a five year old, behave better. out of my store, now.” mr nanami shook his head in exasperation.

sensing the young man who she knew by now is named eunseok distracted, yn quickly took the chance and ran out of the bookstore as quickly as possible.

“h-hey, wait! you book thief! wait up!” eunseok snapped out of his trance and went out of the bookstore seconds right after the girl blew off.

as he went out, he tried to take note of where yn ran off but to his luck, she couldn’t be founded. with an annoyed sigh, he scrambled to take out his phone to let out his frustration without forgetting to sigh,

“tsk, that book thief.. ill catch you when i can.”

taglist 🐾 @gacktsa @secretiny @molensworld

[secondaxispoint]

Joel Miller x Space Lover!Male!Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x Space Lover!Male!Reader

Warnings: Reader is referred to as Tex, No use of Y/N

Content: Fluff

You had always loved space. Anyone could ask you anything about astronomy and you could give an essay on it. You try to keep quiet about it but sometimes you can’t help but get a shining look in your eyes on clear nights. Joel obviously noticed your love of space and smiled every time he looked up to the sky. He wished you would talk about it with him more often. He loved watching your face light up when you would roll onto your back and watch the sky before falling asleep next to him.

You, Joel, and Ellie were exploring and clearing out an abandoned library. You shouted to Joel to duck after a runner sprinter straight for him. Without hesitation, he ducked down and you fired a shotgun blast right through it’s head. After it hit the ground, you helped him up and checked Ellie for injuries.

After the three of you double checked that the building was clear, you all wandered around to look though the few books that had been left behind. Joel made a beeline to the astronomy books to check for any he thought you hadn’t read before. 

He was stopped by a book with big bold letters and a starry night sky background. It read ‘Turn Left at Orion’. The cover was dusty but the book was mostly intact. He brushed off the front and shoved it into his pack before you came over to check in on him.

“Find anything good?”

“Just a few dusty dictionaries.”

Joel wanted to give the book to you in private. He didn’t want Ellie finding out and making a huge deal out of it. It was just a book. That’s all. So the three of you trekked back to camp and started to settle for the night. You geared up and took first watch, as you always did. Leaned against a tree, watching the sky and listening carefully, you hear a rustling sound next to you. 

You looked over to see Joel toss and turn in his sleeping back. You threw your rifle over your shoulder and quietly scooted closer. You put a hand on his shoulder, preparing for him to try to attack or at least jump. But all he did was sigh and peer at you over his shoulder. He looks tired and tense.

“Are you alright? You’ve been tossing for almost a half hour now.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You figure he was just having a rough night so you moved back to the tree you were sitting at about 10 feet away. You heard the unzipping of a sleeping bag but decided to ignore it. At least you tried to up until Joel dumped himself down next to you. He kept quiet so you kept your mouth shut.

He leaned over and handed you a book. It was a copy of ‘Turn Left at Orion’. You had obviously read it before but it had been years. You looked over at him but Joel had his eyes turned up to the sky. You grabbed your flashlight and flipped it on. You pointed it down at the book and flipped through the pages. Joel looked back at you and smiled as he watched your eyes light up.

“Holy shit Joel, it's been years since I've read an astronomy book. Thank you.”

“It’s nothin Tex. Just thought you’d enjoy it is all.”

You turned and smiled at him. He averted his eyes and looked down at his feet. You nudged his shoulder and pointed up at the sky. You told him all about the constellations you could see and described the ones you couldn’t. You listed names and when they were discovered. Joel listened with fascination.

“So what's your favourite constellation?”

You thought you were annoying him with your rambling but apparently he really did care. You felt a heat crawl up the back of your neck and settle on your cheeks.

“Well my favourite is Ursa Major.”

“The one with the Big Dipper?”

Joel asked and you told him what the constellation consisted of and pointed it out in the sky. He smiled and followed where you pointed. 

“So how did you learn about all this stuff Tex?”

You shifted a bit. Thinking back to your childhood. 

“Well my dad was an astronomer. And I wanted to be an astronaut before the outbreak. Space was pretty much my life from the day I was born.”

Joel tilted his head.

“Your dad was an astronomer? Is he still around?”

You looked down sadly.

“Nah, he was caught in the first few city bombings. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye”

Joel’s face softened a bit. He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

After a moment of silence, he took the book from your loose grip. He flipped through the pages until he came across the page labelled ‘Orion’. He read the page out loud before pointing it out in the sky.

You and Joel sat there and continued to flip though the book and point out constellations for another hour before Joel went quiet. He had fallen asleep against the tree while listening to you. He had leaned his head onto your shoulder.

So you silently shedded your outer jacket and draped it over him. You decided to let the duo sleep and stayed on watch the rest of the night. You took short breaks to read small snippets of the book. You were pretty drained by the time the sun came up.

Joel and Ellie yelled at you for not waking them up for the shift change but you didn’t care. You slept in the front seat of the truck for the entire next day.

[hd-fan-fair]

FIC: Californian Calcite

Title: Californian Calcite Creator: Anonymous Prompt:#60 Draco’s Career: Jeweler Harry’s Career: Client/Trophy boyfriend Rating: Mature Warnings/Content Notes: EWE, Pining Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny Breaks Up, Draco/Harry Gets Together, Without Any Emotional Infidelity, Romance, Fluff, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagements, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Emotional Manipulation (Not Between H/D) Summary: After four years of jumping from place to place, Harry and Ginny finally move back home. Hopeful for a place on the Holyhead Harpies, their family begins to drop hints about their future plans.

Four years after the war, Draco is a successful jeweler. He has his craft and his friends, and everything is much better than it could have been.

Until Harry Potter shows back up looking for an engagement ring. Word Count: 30,625 Creator’s Notes: Finally at long last, here she is! Huge huge shoutouts to every single person who made this fic become a reality when I struggled. To my alpha reader Kaiu, thank you for putting up with my vague outline. To my beta reader Golden, thank you for working with me on such short deadlines on a story that gave me much grief. To every single participant and fellow sprinter in the discord, thank you for believing in me and sharing funny moments together in the solidary of a deadline growing ever closer. My heart is full, and you are all my village. Please enjoy!

( Californian Calcite )

[second-axis-point]

Pairing: Joel Miller x Space Lover!Male!Reader

Warnings: Reader is referred to as Tex, No use of Y/N

Content: Fluff

Space Lover

You had always loved space. Anyone could ask you anything about astronomy and you could give an essay on it. You try to keep quiet about it but sometimes you can’t help but get a shining look in your eyes on clear nights. Joel obviously noticed your love of space and smiled every time he looked up to the sky. He wished you would talk about it with him more often. He loved watching your face light up when you would roll onto your back and watch the sky before falling asleep next to him.

You, Joel, and Ellie were exploring and clearing out an abandoned library. You shouted to Joel to duck after a runner sprinter straight for him. Without hesitation, he ducked down and you fired a shotgun blast right through it’s head. After it hit the ground, you helped him up and checked Ellie for injuries.

After the three of you double checked that the building was clear, you all wandered around to look though the few books that had been left behind. Joel made a beeline to the astronomy books to check for any he thought you hadn’t read before. 

He was stopped by a book with big bold letters and a starry night sky background. It read ‘Turn Left at Orion’. The cover was dusty but the book was mostly intact. He brushed off the front and shoved it into his pack before you came over to check in on him.

“Find anything good?”

“Just a few dusty dictionaries.”

Joel wanted to give the book to you in private. He didn’t want Ellie finding out and making a huge deal out of it. It was just a book. That’s all. So the three of you trekked back to camp and started to settle for the night. You geared up and took first watch, as you always did. Leaned against a tree, watching the sky and listening carefully, you hear a rustling sound next to you. 

You looked over to see Joel toss and turn in his sleeping back. You threw your rifle over your shoulder and quietly scooted closer. You put a hand on his shoulder, preparing for him to try to attack or at least jump. But all he did was sigh and peer at you over his shoulder. He looks tired and tense.

“Are you alright? You’ve been tossing for almost a half hour now.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. You figure he was just having a rough night so you moved back to the tree you were sitting at about 10 feet away. You heard the unzipping of a sleeping bag but decided to ignore it. At least you tried to up until Joel dumped himself down next to you. He kept quiet so you kept your mouth shut.

He leaned over and handed you a book. It was a copy of ‘Turn Left at Orion’. You had obviously read it before but it had been years. You looked over at him but Joel had his eyes turned up to the sky. You grabbed your flashlight and flipped it on. You pointed it down at the book and flipped through the pages. Joel looked back at you and smiled as he watched your eyes light up.

“Holy shit Joel, it's been years since I've read an astronomy book. Thank you.”

“It’s nothin Tex. Just thought you’d enjoy it is all.”

You turned and smiled at him. He averted his eyes and looked down at his feet. You nudged his shoulder and pointed up at the sky. You told him all about the constellations you could see and described the ones you couldn’t. You listed names and when they were discovered. Joel listened with fascination.

“So what's your favourite constellation?”

You thought you were annoying him with your rambling but apparently he really did care. You felt a heat crawl up the back of your neck and settle on your cheeks.

“Well my favourite is Ursa Major.”

“The one with the Big Dipper?”

Joel asked and you told him what the constellation consisted of and pointed it out in the sky. He smiled and followed where you pointed. 

“So how did you learn about all this stuff Tex?”

You shifted a bit. Thinking back to your childhood. 

“Well my dad was an astronomer. And I wanted to be an astronaut before the outbreak. Space was pretty much my life from the day I was born.”

Joel tilted his head.

“Your dad was an astronomer? Is he still around?”

You looked down sadly.

“Nah, he was caught in the first few city bombings. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye”

Joel’s face softened a bit. He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

After a moment of silence, he took the book from your loose grip. He flipped through the pages until he came across the page labelled ‘Orion’. He read the page out loud before pointing it out in the sky.

You and Joel sat there and continued to flip though the book and point out constellations for another hour before Joel went quiet. He had fallen asleep against the tree while listening to you. He had leaned his head onto your shoulder.

So you silently shedded your outer jacket and draped it over him. You decided to let the duo sleep and stayed on watch the rest of the night. You took short breaks to read small snippets of the book. You were pretty drained by the time the sun came up.

Joel and Ellie yelled at you for not waking them up for the shift change but you didn’t care. You slept in the front seat of the truck for the entire next day.

[nientedal]

Hi Dal!!! 📓? I always love everything you write <3

Ooooo let's see. It's funny, at this point there aren't many that I haven't at least STARTED to write down, but...

sometimes i play with ones in which megamind gets attacked. and these can go one of two ways, either they can go "roxanne stops the attack" or "roxanne pursues and retrieves megamind because No. Mine. also, How Dare." and it's late and i am sleepy so in this case i'm going to go copy down some stuff i wordvomited into a discord server 3 years ago lmao - because how about a brainfic in which they have to get married And Then Figure Things Out Later? it's part of a category of stories i call Roxanne Saves The Day And Megamind Is Surprised

it's not ARRANGED marriage, but it is marriage, and it does set up some neat fake-relationshippy vibes that you can then play with however you like. in this particular one, we start off thusly-- we see Roxanne walking up the steps to City Hall to do something or other (I don’t know what it is, that’s not really important to the plot). She’s thinking to herself, probably reviewing whatever it is she’s here for

and. then. there are. screams. screeching tires. a shout (megamind, panicked). we see Roxanne turn. and we see: a sprinter van. large, white, no windows. it has jumped the curb and narrowly avoided hitting a fire hydrant. and we see: Megamind running, turning with his usual gun in his hand, lifting it to aim. we hear a shot, we see his hand jerk, we see the de-gun fly out of his grip and clatter across the steps towards Roxanne.

Roxanne is good at noticing lots of things very quickly. Roxanne HAS to be good at that in order to keep up with Megamind’s plots and make fun of him on the spot during kidnappings. And Roxanne sees: no shoulder array, no cape. panic on his face. a dart in Megamind’s wrist before he yanks it out and throws it and keeps running up the steps. Roxanne sees: men in white coats exiting the sprinter van

...Roxanne does not know what the fuck is going on, but she has seen enough at this point to know she doesn’t want it to go any further. She runs for Megamind’s gun, grabs it up, rolls the barrel to destroy (because Roxanne does not fuck around). Takes off across the steps on a collision course for Megamind.

he’s only a few steps from the doors when he staggers and falls. she fires a couple wild warning shots to make the whitecoats stumble back-- she gets Megamind’s arm over her shoulders-- gets her arm around his waist-- drags him up the steps and into City Hall with her.

inside city hall, a security checkpoint. a gate to go through, with a bag scanner. Roxanne has: a recognizable face, a ray gun, a stumbling Megamind, and no time. she hauls Megamind through security without any issues by yelling something about a meeting and and something about metro man, and then she takes off down the hall. Nobody moves to stop them.

well. they MOVE, just... like, i figure most citizens of Metro tend to freeze when Megamind appears on any given scene??? it’s safest. you stop moving until you can tell where he’s going next, and then follow the recommendation of the artist Ludacris. by which i mean you Get Out The Way

so anyway, megamind doesn’t have his cape, but he still has his belt, which means he has pockets. Roxanne knows the contents of some of these already because come on, of course she does, she's seen how he operates only about, oh, a million times. she drags him into an empty conference room and starts going through his belt’s pockets until she finds his hard-light sheet, which in my head is baaaaaasically a crinkly, thin blanket that operates along the same lines as the Invisible Car

and then she sort of……arranges herself and Megamind so they’re taking up the least amount of space possible, out of the sunlight (to avoid reflection), and hides them under the sheet. it’s not a perfect hide, but as long as they stay very still, probably no one will see anything out of place. probably.

(oh, btw, i'm giving y'all the absolute simplest, most complication-free rundown of this scenario. there are SO MANY PLACES you could go with this, so many places this could go wrong or complicated.)

Megamind has his knees to his chest and his head on Roxanne’s shoulder. she has her arms around him, one up around his shoulders and the other just around his back, with the de-gun in her hand, just in case (of course).

he’s immobilized but he’s conscious, and he goes absolutely rigid when the door to the conference room bursts open and the light clicks on. Roxanne holds him tighter, holds both of them still. a security guard circles the conference table. checks underneath it. leaves. (OR they're found. OR it's metro man, who definitely knows they're there, but covers for them. or or or, etc.) Roxanne doesn’t move. she’s not planning on moving for a good couple hours, at least. Just to be safe. “who are they?” she asks. “the guys in the van, why are they after you?”

He makes a noise that sounds like it’s trying to be words. Roxanne pats him and stops asking questions.

a while later, he mumbles, “I have something they want.”

“and they can just…take you away. in broad daylight.”

“i’m not human. and I’m a supervillain. the few rights i do have, no one is going to fight for”

roxanne is quiet for a while. then she says, slowly, “I have an idea, but…you aren’t going to like it. do you have any kind of government-issued photo ID?”

"ID yes. photo, no."

"….we can probably work with that anyway. marry me."

megamind's reaction to this is one of the things i enjoy playing with, so there isn't really a standard one, but it's mostly variations on the theme of "…wat."

but basically, the idea is that spouses have certain privileges denied other family members or close friends. If Megamind DOES get taken, in broad daylight or otherwise, then Roxanne will have legal recourse to fight tooth and nail to get him back.

"but you're dating metro man"

"correction: i am bearding for metro man, and he keeps saying he owes me for it; he'll help. look, we are already in city hall, i think marriage licenses is….third floor? probate? yeah. third floor."

anyway, she texts metro man. he comes in, agrees to help -- basic cover story: she was pretending to date wayne to keep attention off her Secret Clandestine Relationship with Megamind. in my head he's like, "oh shit, okay, yeah -- and i've got lawyers you can borrow, no problem. and uh. oh! oh yeah, hang on, gimme like…….twenty minutes, I'll be right back." (give me a wayne who Means Well and Does His Best as an adult, but just isn't very good at actually thinking, lol.) anyway he comes back with a couple of sparkly rings to really sell the story, and they get a marriage license. and then they have to hide for at least 3 days, because Michigan requires a lag between obtaining the marriage license and the actual marriage itself.

so, that's the basic setup. like i said there are so many ways you can change it and play around with it, it's a lot of fun!! megamind is reeling because this??? is apparently a thing roxanne (?!!!??ROXANNE???!!!) is willing to just…DO for him???? and roxanne is PISSED that this is even a thing that needs to happen because tHIS SHOULD NOT BE SOMETHING MEGAMIND HAS TO WORRY ABOUT, this is something NOBODY should have to worry about. what the fuck.

AND you get THREE DAYS of NO MARRIAGE for them to talk and angst and maybe have a small fight and then make up and realize how close they already are, and they have to act, in public, like they've been dating for a couple years at least! so, that's fun.

oh, and as for Minion: he is hiding in the lake. they're welcome to try and catch him there, but he is a fish in lake mcfuckin michigan, good luck.

so, the three days, the only way this works in my head is if evil lair has been compromised? because otherwise megamind just…wouldn't get caught, right? so wayne brings them to a safehouse and it very much has only one bed and it IS the sofa (it's a pull out bed)... OR he takes them to the Fortress. but that…that's a lot of trust. so, probably not that.

so here's one iteration of the safehouse scenario, based on a pull-out sofa bed my husband and i actually tried to sleep on one time. it was queen-sized. the mattress was three inches thick and had springs that dug into my ribs. THE ONLY way either of us got any sleep was, I starfished across the whole thing, and the boy made himself a bed on the floor out of the discarded sofa cushions. so, roxanne-starfish-megamind-floor is how they attempt the first night, but megamind is not good at sleeping in unfamiliar beds. and he is very, very stressed. he does not sleep well. roxanne winds up dangling her arm off the side of the sofabed and sort of…draping it over his shoulder. or his head. or holding his hand. you can put it pretty much however you want, it just depends what dialogue you use.

night two, they try leaning on the arms of the sofa, and stretching out a little bit and squishing together. they can maybe wake up with their legs kinda. stretched out. tangled up a bit? i'd say "it works great" but it DOES lead to a massive crick in at least one of their necks, and if megamind sleeps at all, it isn't very well. and so finally Roxanne is like, "okay, look. fuck this, I need to stretch out and you keep gasping awake and neither of us is getting any sleep, come here." and she turns to sit backwards against the armrest that's against the wall (so she can lean her head back) and Megamind sits between her legs and sort of…reclines back against her with his head on her shoulder & the arm of the sofa, and Roxanne holds onto him and he pins her upright and she can lean her head sideways down against his, and it works:

listen, i see a megarox, i have to put them in a cuddle. i'm a simple creature, i have few needs, megarox cuddles are one of them.

.......anyway there are about a MILLION BILLION PLACES YOU CAN GO FROM HERE WITH THIS, depending on how plot-heavy you wanna get. but this typically tends to be where i taper off, because this is one i play with for cuddles and angst and not much else.

(there's another version where they get him into the van and roxanne has to call another villain to help get him back. but i'm still working on merging it with the "fake" marriage one, lol.)

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga)呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime)  MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS

Rating: Explicit 

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con 

Content Warnings: Dubious Consent, Prostitution, Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Violence

Categories: F/M, Multi, F/F 

Relationships: Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character(s), Nanami Kento/Original Female Character(s), Getou Suguru/Original Female Character(s), Ieiri Shoko & Iori Utahime 

Major Characters: Original Characters, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Nanami Kento, Okkotsu Yuuta, Toudou Aoi, Zenin Naobito, Zenin Jinichi, Zenin, Zenin Ougi, Fushiguro Megumi, Kamo Clan, Nitta Akari, Inumaki Toge, Ieiri Shoko, Iori Utahime, Kusakabe Atsuya, Muta Kokichi, Itadori Yuuji, Hakari Kinji

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Chapter 4　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

A guy with the friendly grin strolled into Tenjiku in search of his buddy. His hair, reaching his shoulders, cascaded in gentle curls, while his tan complexion glimmered under the perfect lighting, giving him a touch of gold. He had a slender physique, resembling that of a sprinter, and his bright gray eyes gazed confidently into the distance.

"Shimizu!" Gojo shouted from the upper floors, waving at him with a grin.

Shimizu grinned mischievously as he cocked his head to the side, revealing two elongated arms emerging from his back. The pale blue appendages had a ghostly quality, with a faint translucence to their skin. They hoisted him up and moved him effortlessly next to his boss above.

"What's up, boss?" Shimizu said, a half-smirk on his lips still.

"C'mon. Got something to show you." Gojo said, waving his hand as he led Shimizu down the hall. 

Gojo burst in the VIP room, propping his feet up on the table as he sat down and retrieved the baggie of the mysterious dark substance. Holding it between his index and thumb, he offered it to Shimizu. The blonde cautiously sniffed it, recoiling at the strong smell.

"What in the sam hill is that?" Shimizu said, his tongue gagging out, "Boss, that's nasty."

"Apparently it's new." Gojo shrugged, "Hallucinogen. My boy said it was like acid. It's not poisonous, I checked, but it's weird as shit, right?"

"Wanna try it?" Shimizu grinned, his eyes already wide with excitement.

"That's what I like to hear!" Gojo laughed, dropping his feet off the table and scooting closer, "Let's see what we got."

Shimizu took a small black blob out of the baggie and dropped it on his tongue, squishing it against the roof of his mouth. He shrugged, tasting the flavor. "It's not great." He mumbled, "Not the worst I guess. Tastes like blood."

Gojo took his own little taste, pointing at Shimizu, "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"How long do you think it'll take?" Shimizu asked, but his answer came faster than either of them expected. 

Shimizu was taken aback as his ghostly limbs sprouted from his back, his fingers moving on their own accord. More arms appeared, followed by a third set. Gasping, Shimizu's eyes widened and a crazed smile crept across his face. His breathing became erratic, his body hunching over as the arms multiplied and his power surged.

Gojo quickly understood the situation, wrapping his arms around Shimizu's waist and teleporting them to the streets outside. He gasped, his vision blurring as the drug started to speed up his heart rate. Struggling to hold onto his phone, he dialed Geto before it slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground and cracked on the pavement.

       i̷̢̮̣̖̔̀̃ͯ̀ͩ͑̿͠t̸̙̻̜̹̮̯̣̟̻͇͑͋̀̎̏̑͑̒̏̓̂̕͢͠͡͝'̮̝̯̂̑̒s̢̫̬̬͇͕̩̖̳̗ͧͭ̅̊̀̊̈́̓̊ͯ̓͆̚̚͢ ö̵̵̧̩̲̠̦̝̠̞́̀͗͛̑ͯ͑̉ͪ͆̑ͭ̀͟͜͝ͅk̸̨̡̛͎̝̠͕ͪͨ̓ͨ̓ͧ͊̃̆̈́͘̚_̴̩̹̥̖͗ͦ̃̀̃͘̚̚͞_̞ͤͣ̒̈́̃ͧ̋͑́͟a̛̯̖̞͎͇ͤͤẏ̷̸̡̧͇̝̺͔̼̞͎̘̯̬͔͎͕̩̥ͫͯ̄̉̈́͆͗́̽͊̀̽͘͟͜͠ͅͅͅ 

                            I̸̸̧̡̯͙̮͖̙͉̟̘̝̮͙̻̠̦̾͗̐̓̀͒ͫ͗̇ͮͯͤͮ̊͢͡'͕͔̗̈́̽ͨ̇͑͋̈́̿͞ͅm̨̬͉̣̗̟͇̺̖̫̩̝̦̪̖̾́͑̀̍̊ͨͤ a̲̬͙̟̻̗̯̱̥̥̠̠̦͕ͭ̽̅̋͊͗ͯ̍̎͑̽͡f̛͖͈̉ͭ͗ͦͬ́̊͟ȑ̸͓̱͙̼̜̰̙̦̣̤̲̃̀̌̄ͨͫ̒͒ͤ̈̌ͭ̒ͦͣ͘͝ai̧̢̨̫̖̖̱͈͈͖̤̻ͭͬ͌̈̍ͥ̈́ͧ͌͂ͧ̓̚͟͞d̺̖̠̙͚̬̩ͤͭͮͩͭ̆_̮̩ͭ͗̅͝

                                               î̶̗̰̼ͫ̒̓t̴̸̢̢̛̛͍͔̤̘̻̬̲̀͆̓̓͊̍͆̽̓̈ͩ̔̀̉ͩ̌̏̑͐ͪ́̎̕͝͡'̵̷̡͕̫̯̰͍͉̝̜͈̳̟͔̌̎̔͒̋̔̍̌ͣ͋ͮ́ͧ̇̐̍ͥ̓̋ͯ̐̈̌͘͘͞ͅş̡̢̛̥̞̹͈̳̫͙̙̯̥͔̼̝̃̓ͮͦͬͫ͌́̌ͥ̂́͌̍̆̌̓͗̾͑̾̏́̿̕̕ ǫ̶̵̳͇̤̝̙̱̲̱̦̹̰͓͇̜̭ͦ̅͆ͩͭ̀̈ͭͩͣ̃ͯ͌́̀̋͌̏̄ͦ̕ͅk̛̬̪̱̯͓̮͇ͦͣ́͂ͬ̆͐͂̕͟ͅā̵̧͖̦̻̫͇͚̥͖͆̄͢͞͡ẙ̨̧̢̛̤̖̦̲̣̗̲̞͎͇̯̾͂̽̀̈́̓̂̌́̇̎̔́ͣ̎͐̎͊͘͢͜͞͝

                                                                 I̴̶̡̪̼͉͔̜̭̞͍͓̻̪̺̖̩ͯ̈́ͣ̏ͥ̈ͦ́̓͑̍͢͜͡'̴̢̗͌̎̐̂͛ͨ̐̽͞ḿ̴̢̨̗̣͎̫͖̞̖̺͙̘͉̰̭̳̦̝͓̈̈́̈́̾ͣ̐́͐̋ͭ̒ͥ̾̀̔ͬ̕̚̚͜͡͠ ơ̵̶̧͍͇͕͖̭͈̙̦̻̏̆̌̐ͩͬͬ̿̐̏ͫͣ̿͒ͪ̉ͩ̐̈͡͠k̸̴̛̞̟͔͙̲͉̫̤̜̫̫̖̃̓̎ͥ̑̈́͌́̀͑̂ͬ̎́ͥ͒̚͠͝ͅȧ̳͚̝̙͉ͤ̈̆̋ͭ̐̀̀̌͡ẙ̛͎̩͖̞̱̒̌͜

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

Geto and Yaga were perched on a floating bird-like curse, peering down at the street while Gojo rampaged below, cackling uncontrollably. They had evacuated as many civilians as possible before drawing him away from the crowd. The drug had turned the blue-eyed monster into a laughing maniac, his powers causing the power grid to flicker. With each step he took, the streets cracked beneath his feet, windows shattered, and glass hovered in the air. 

"Did he recognize you?" Yaga asked, exhaling his cigarette smoke out of the corner of his lips.

Geto shook his head, "Afraid not. He's too caught up. If I could just touch him I think I could get him to focus."

"Got any ideas?" Yaga sighed, "If not you, then do you think-"

"She'd definitely be able to do it." Geto cut him off with a dark chuckle, "But convincing her might not be easy. Depends on her mood."

"Call her." Yaga said, nodding towards Geto.

Geto pulled out his phone, dialing Sarah. It rang for a moment before he heard it connect.

"What?" She answered and he chuckled.

"What are you up to?" Geto asked, gauging her reaction.

"Curse hunting." She snapped back, "Why?"

Not great. Geto sighed internally before he asked, "Think you could come back to Shinjuku?" 

"Why?" She asked, curtly as ever.

"Gojo took some kind of weird drug- Don't hang up." Geto said quickly, "He's on a rampage. He didn't recognize me. We need your help."

She was silent on the other end before she finally asked, "Where?"

Ten minutes later Sarah stood alone down the street, her silhouette stark against the backdrop of chaos. Atoms crackled and sparked from Satoru's outstretched hands, the energy cascading like a malevolent storm. The force of his technique overloaded, crashing into the streets with an earth-shaking roar, flattening cars and splintering pavement.

Yet amidst the destruction, she remained unshaken. Her stance was resolute, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the sorcerer. The wind whipped her hair, yet she stood firm, an island of calm in the sea of turmoil. Her eyes, steady and fearless, seemed to pierce through the raging inferno of energy. She waited, a silent challenge embodied in her poised frame, for the man to finally notice her presence.

Satoru's eyes, glowing that eerie blue, flickered as he took in her form from a distance. His gaze lingered for a brief moment, scanning her with a mixture of curiosity and indifference, before he turned away, dismissing her as insignificant. He continued his onslaught, the barriers of energy crackling with renewed intensity, surging in chaotic patterns across the street.

Undeterred, Sarah began to move. Each step she took was deliberate, confident, and unhurried. As she approached, the barriers seemed to part before her, the arcs of energy bending and dissipating in her presence. Cars lay flattened, debris scattered in her path, but nothing hindered her progress. The technique that had devastated everything in their wake now faltered and grew quiet, as if recognizing a force greater than their own.

Yaga looked over at Geto, "How is she doing that?"

She walked through the chaos untouched, an embodiment of fearless determination, until she stood mere feet from Satoru. The air around them hummed with residual energy, but she remained calm, her eyes never leaving his. Satoru's focus wavered as he finally began to sense her, a realization dawning in his glowing eyes.

"He's trained to let Limitless automatically recognize danger even in his sleep," Geto explained, "He doesn't recognize her as a danger."

She called out, her voice clear and steady, cutting through the cacophony of magical energy. "Satoru?"

His glowing blue eyes flickered with confusion. He paused, the destructive barriers around them losing their intensity. "It's okay now?" he answered, his voice laden with concern, though still uncertain.

She shook her head slightly. "No," she replied gently. "You're not okay."

Something in her words, in the way she said them, pierced through the fog of chaos and power. Satoru's eyes, still glowing, began to shift, recognition dawning as he truly looked at her. The intensity of his technique dimmed, and the remaining barriers flickered out of existence. 

"It's you," he whispered, awe and affection mingling in his voice. The world around them seemed to hold its breath as he took a hesitant step forward, his outstretched hand trembling slightly as he reached for her.

"Yes," she said softly, taking his hand, "Calm down. Breathe." She spoke carefully, her voice a soothing balm against the residual tension in the air. "Breathe," she said again, each word measured and calm. "You need to calm down. Settle your mind."

Satoru's glowing eyes were filled with a mix of longing and desperation, the depth of his affection for her evident in every glance. He tried to steady his breathing, focusing on her presence as an anchor amidst the turmoil. His hands, which had been crackling with energy, began to relax, the tendrils of energy receding like a tide.

She took a small step closer, her expression gentle but resolute. "It's alright," she continued, her tone unwavering. "You're safe. Just let go."

He nodded, his gaze never leaving her face, and slowly the chaotic energy around them dissipated entirely. The street, once a scene of destruction, fell into an eerie stillness. Satoru's shoulders sagged with the weight of exhaustion, but the love in his eyes remained as he looked at her.

Her own gaze was steady, but there was a subtle distance in it, a barrier of her own making. She seemed to tolerate his affection, her focus solely on calming him down. "There you go," she said softly, her voice almost clinical in its calmness. "Just breathe."

He took a deep, shuddering breath, the last of the energy leaving his body. "Thank you," he whispered, a mixture of relief and yearning in his voice.

She offered a small, tight smile, acknowledging his gratitude without fully embracing it. "You're welcome," she replied, her tone still measured.

The drug released its hold, the light fading in his eyes. He stared at her, her hand still in both of his as a cold sweat broke out on his forehead and his body trembled. Scanning across her face, his focus began to waver before she caught him on her shoulder. 

Geto and Yaga landed on the pavement, approaching to take him off of her hands. As soon as she passed him over to Geto she adjusted her top before turning to immediately leave.

"Thank you." Yaga called after her, getting only a lazy dismissive wave in reply.

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

Satoru plopped down on the sofa in Yaga's office, a damp cloth covering his eyes. Shimizu sat next to him, with an ice pack pressed against his forehead. They appeared utterly drained, as if they had expended every last bit of energy in a wild frenzy. Limp and worn out, not a word escaped their lips.

Geto stood prepared, pacing back and forth while keeping his hands by his sides. No curses had been spawned by either party, yet he remained cautious. He wasn't about to lower his guard just yet. Especially not after witnessing the non-sorcerer fill the morgue with small curses like a dirty bomb. Those minor curses were simple for him to handle, but the potential curse that could come from a sorcerer like Gojo was unknown.

Nanami entered the room carrying a fresh washcloth, replacing the one on Gojo's eyes with a warm new one. Gojo thanked him by patting his arm, but Nanami just rolled his eyes. The blonde man took the old washcloth and sat down across from his coworkers, with Geto joining him at his side.

"So?" Nanami asked, "Explain yourself."

Gojo took a deep breath, letting out a tired sigh before composing himself to speak. He sat upright, the washcloth still covering his eyes, and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Weird black stuff. Itadori said it was like acid. Got it for free when he bought my coke." Gojo mumbled.

He gave his leg a pat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the baggie. Placed on the table, the contents inside appeared to flatten slightly and the foul odor quickly permeated the room. Nanami held his nose and covered the baggie with a cloth, shaking his head in disapproval.

"You put this garbage into your body without questioning it?" Nanami scoffed, "You're beyond idiotic."

"I had a bad day." Gojo grumbled.

"That's no excuse." Yaga growled, rising from his desk, "You've been irresponsible and foolish. You're damn lucky you had the sense to teleport the two out of Tenjiku. You could have killed countless people."

"I know." Gojo groaned, "I know, I get it. I fucked it."

"This is beyond "fucked it" Satoru." Geto sighed, "That could have set back everything we worked for as sorcerers to regain some kind of respect once again."

"I know." Gojo groaned louder, "Alright. Enough. I know."

Itadori came into the room sheepishly, his expression anxious and fearful. He looked at all three of the lieutenants, the big boss himself too, wringing the threads of his mask in his hands. Swallowing thickly he took a deep bow.

"I apologize." He said, "I- I didn't know what would happen. I shouldn't have handed over the drugs. I knew he would take them and I--"

"Are you implying your Lieutenant can't control himself?" Geto hissed, hovering close by Itadori's head, "Is that what you're suggesting?"

Itadori kept his head down, "N-no sir! No. I should have just--"

"Because if you're implying that, it means you think Yaga chose poorly?" Geto continued, gripping onto Itadori's jacket.

"No! No not at all!" Itadori shouted, "I would never--"

"Leave him alone." Gojo croaked out, "It's not his fault. He thought it was a bad idea too."

Geto backed off but kept his eyes narrowed, "Think before you speak, kid."

Itadori gave a slight nod, keeping his gaze lowered. Gojo removed the cloth from his face and took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. He placed one between his lips and began searching for his lighter in his other pockets. Shimizu swiftly flicked his own lighter, igniting Gojo's cigarette.

Gojo took a long drag, holding it a moment before he exhaled in a sigh and looked at Itadori. "Who'd you get this from?" He asked, his normal demeanor starting to return.

"Just from the usual guy." Itadori said, "But he'd gotten it from a different one apparently. This is the first time I'd heard of a change in dealers so-"

"Do you know who is above your guy? This new one, do you know his name?" Gojo asked.

Itadori shook his head, "No, but I can get you my dealer. He's got some explaining to do anyway."

After a quick phone call, a few not-so-subtle warnings, and a new guy was now in the office. Dressed in a black hoodie and black jeans, the dark-haired young man looked visibly nervous. Not a sorcerer himself, he found himself surrounded by some of the most intimidating sorcerers and criminals in the city. He appeared on the verge of losing his cool, especially when Gojo got up and started walking towards him. 

"Morishita, yeah?" Gojo said then chuckled, "That's funny. You related to Rin up at Tenjiku?"

The young man shook his head, "N-no, sir."

Gojo bobbed his head as he took a few steps around Morishita, "Right. I suppose it's not an uncommon last name." Like a shark circling his prey, Gojo moved in closer, "Tell me, were you aware of what was in that bag that you so kindly gifted to my boy?"

Morishita swallowed thickly, "N-no, sir."

"Really?" Gojo asked, the lilt in his voice like a mother interrogating which one of her kids broke a lamp, "Are you sure?"

Morishita quickly shook his head, "N-no, sir!"

Gojo chuckled, "Is that all you know how to say?"

Morishita opened his mouth, "N-no, si-"

Gojo's fist slammed into the man's face, sending him across the room and into the wall behind. He groaned, leaning his head back on the wall while Gojo moved to stand in front of him. He lifted up Morishita by his hood, dangling him like a cat in front of his face. With a wicked grin, he chuckled again.

"Let's try this again." Gojo hissed, "Did you know what was in that bag you gave to my boy?"

Morishita coughed, his cheek already beginning to welt from the force of Gojo's punch. "I didn't. I swear. This weird new guy was giving them out with the blow."

"Now we're getting somewhere." Gojo said, patting Morishita's reddened cheek as he set the man back down on his feet, "Who. Gimme a name."

"Goes by Red." Morishita said, "He's a sorcerer. His mask is all black with big wide eyes. He can travel through the ground with his powers."

"Interesting." Gojo said, "Call him."

"I-I can't." Morishita said, shaking his head and holding his hands up, "We only have the place we meet him."

"Which is...?" Gojo asked, his fingers twitching.

"A-at the docks, sir. Building 4A at the back behind the crates. They've never moved the ones in the back corner." Morishita explained.

"Wonderful." Gojo said, turning to his fellow Lieutenants and Yaga, "Anyone want to come with or is this a solo venture?"

"I'll go." Geto said, rising to his feet, "I'm already involved in this investigation."

"I have a prior engagement, but I will join you soon after." Nanami said, rising to his feet as well.

"Itadori." Gojo said, glancing over at the pink haired boy, "Get with Akari and Kirara. You three make sure this shit isn't spreading. Collect everything you find and bring it here."

Itadori bowed, "Yes, sir."

Gojo turned to Geto and jutted his chin towards the door. "Let's go."

With Morishita in tow, the two of them headed down to the docks and at the meeting place. Masks on, Gojo and Geto's presence cleared a path through the crowded streets of Shinjuku as usual. Behind Geto a large red demon-like curse served as a parole officer of sorts, keeping its glowing yellow eyes on their drug dealing compatriot.

Gojo's eyes shone brightly, his lips twisted in a grimace under his mask. He felt extremely irritated, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. The day was meant to be ordinary, just gather the money and have a good time. But everything that had transpired so far made him feel like screaming and ripping someone's head off.

Geto glanced over, tipping his head back a little. "Relax." He said, "You're getting too worked up."

"Can't help it." Gojo grunted, "Pissed off."

"Well, don't let it cloud your judgement." Geto said with a chuckle, "I'll do the talking this time. Just use that anger to look scary and I'll take care of your mess."

Gojo scoffed, closing his eyes as he jammed his hands into his pockets with his head tipped back, "Go fuck yourself."

Geto laughed, "Well, then I guess that's the plan then."

Morishita stood at the entrance of the docks, unsure of what to do next. He glanced back at Gojo and Geto, torn between the fear of the repercussions of allowing them inside the meeting place and denying them what they desired. However, as he caught Gojo's intense gaze and Geto's eerily serene smile, he quickly made up his mind.

He gave the door latch a solid push, causing it to make a loud thud. The sound reverberated throughout the warehouse as he ran his hand along the wall, searching for the light switch. With a flicker, the fluorescent lights illuminated the space, and he entered with the sorcerers close behind him.

The three of them made their way to the back corner where he approached a small gray box mounted on the wall. After lifting the cover and entering a code, he paused for a moment before counting the flashes of a green light beside the keypad. He then looked back at Gojo and Geto, giving a nod and gesturing towards the floor in the middle of the area behind the boxes.

The ground beneath them rumbled for a moment before a bright mop of orange hair popped out, followed by the rest of the skinny man. He was tall, like at least as tall as Gojo, but long and skinny. His front teeth were a bit jagged and he blew up through his fluffy hair to move it off his eyes.

"Ayy~ now would ya look at tha'!" He grinned, "We got us some big fancy special grades! What has boys like yerselves comin' tae see yer friendly neighborhood dispenser? Did Morishita scam ye? Need me tae rough him up?"

Gojo blinked, then narrowed his eyes, "How much blow are you on, guy? You talk way to damn fast."

"Do I?" Red laughed, "Ne'er heard that one before!"

With a lazy lopsided smile he meandered closer, reaching out to touch the invisible barrier between Gojo and him. He grinned, pushing against it before swinging his leg in a powerful kick and then backing up a few steps. With a loud laugh, Red pointed at Gojo and shook his finger.

"Now, that there seems like cheatin' my friend." He said with that lopsided grin.

"Sure." Gojo said with a shrug, his own grin spreading on his face, "So, now that we have that cleared up let's chat about that bullshit your boy passed to mine."

"Ahhh I see." Red said, crossing his arms then pointed at Morishita over his shoulder, "Ye fucked up, Mori."

Morishita backed up, "W-wait! Red! I didn't know he was bringing it to Gojo, I wouldn't have--"

Red's leg collided with Morishita, causing his lifeless form to collide with the crates. Red's eyes widened as the body slumped down, then casually slipped his hands into his pocket while flashing a defiant smirk at Gojo and Geto. With a slight hop onto his toes, he was suddenly descending into a hole that had opened up beneath his feet.

Gojo rolled his eyes, "Did your curse stick or am I tracking him?"

"I got him." Geto said, "He's just below. I think he's in the sewer."

"Yeah. That makes sense." Gojo said, "He's not actually making tunnels. He's just connecting spaces together. Neat technique. Too bad we gotta kill him."

"We don't have to kill him." Geto rolled his eyes, "We could just get our information and extort him into working for us."

"Yeah we could I guess." Gojo groaned, "Do we need to though?"

"He'd be useful." Geto suggested with a smile, "But we could just kill him if you like.

With a heavy groan, Gojo glared at Geto, "I hate it when you say it like that. You're gonna give me shit if I don't do it, yeah?"

Gojo pointed forward, raising two fingers as a red orb of energy appeared at the tips of his fingers. Geto moved closer, his gaze fixed in the direction ahead as he gently nudged Gojo's hand to the right. After nodding in agreement, the orb was released.

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

Red's heart pounded in his chest, the rapid rhythm almost deafening in the oppressive silence. The darkness behind the blindfold was suffocating, but it wasn't the lack of sight that unnerved him—it was the unknown.

He had been sprinting full speed through the sewer so sure they'd never be able to catch him. The last thing he remembered was the sudden flash of red, a hand grabbing him from behind, and then darkness. Now, he was being led down a flight of cold, stone steps, each footfall echoing off unseen walls. The air grew colder with each step, carrying a dampness that hinted at subterranean depths.

Red tried to focus on his breathing, in and out, in and out, a steady rhythm to anchor him. But the metallic clank of the chair being dragged across the floor shattered his fragile calm. He was forced into the chair, its icy surface a stark contrast to his fevered skin. His wrists were tied to the armrests, the rope cutting into his flesh as he strained against it.

A door creaked open, the sound amplified in the vast, empty space. Footsteps approached, deliberate and measured. Red turned his head towards the sound, his senses straining to gather any scrap of information.

"Welcome, Red," a voice said, smooth and devoid of emotion. "I trust you find our accommodations... adequate."

Red swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat making it painful. "F-fellas now- n-now let's be reasonable here!" Red stammered, "I- I- I'm just as much tha victim here-"

The voice chuckled softly. "Red. What an amusing nickname."

A sharp, metallic sound filled the air, like a knife being drawn from its sheath. Red's pulse quickened, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He had been in tight spots before, but nothing like this. This was a different game, one where he didn't know the rules or the players.

The voice continued, closer now, almost whispering in his ear. "You see, Red, information is a powerful thing. And you, whether you know it or not, hold a piece of a puzzle that we need."

Red felt a large hand on his shoulder, the grip firm and unyielding. He clenched his fists, the ropes digging deeper into his skin. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed to say, though his voice wavered.

The hand squeezed tighter, sending a jolt of pain through his body. "Don't play games with me, Red. You will tell me what I want to know. It's only a matter of time."

Red's mind raced. He had to stay calm, had to think. Somewhere in this cold, echoing basement, there had to be a way out. He just needed to find it before it was too late. 

"Let's start with the basics, Red." The voice said calmly, "From the top. Where did you get that substance from?"

"F-from my supplier." Red stammered.

"Good boy." The voice praised, the large hand coming down to pat on Red's sweat-damp hair, "Now, for what purpose?"

"I wasn't... I wasn't given specifics." Red mumbled.

"Tsk tsk, now that won't do Red." The voice tutted, "I'll ask you once more. For what purpose?"

"I... I wasn't-" The searing pain across his cheek made his breath catch, the hand that had struck him felt like a brick to the face.

"Wrong." The voice said simply, "Again. For what purpose?"

One of his teeth clicked as it landed on the hard concert floor while red saliva dripped from his mouth, mixing with the glob of blood that he spit. Sweat trickled down his chin, making him wonder if there was a heat lamp positioned above him. If only he could free his arms, he might have a chance to escape.

"3... 2... 1." 

The hand struck him again and red coughed as blood seeped down his throat. Another tooth was spit onto the ground, his nose had started to run. Or was it blood? Everything tasted hot and coppery.

"Red, silence will get you nowhere." The voice said with a dark chuckle, "For what purpose?"

"To... To spread it." Red muttered, "Get it out to the population."

The voice hummed in appreciation, the hand coming down again to pat Red on his head. 

"Good boy." 

Steeps echoed on the concrete floor before the sound of something metallic dragged on a wooden table. The footsteps came back to Red's side and something cold touched his cheek. He shivered, almost glad he couldn't see whatever the device was.

"Now, Red, I have another question. I'll be lenient this time because I understand this will be difficult." The voice said softly, "That last answer wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I believe that you are under a binding vow. Nod if I'm correct."

Red hesitated. Would it be breaking the vow to answer that? He swallowed, the blood in his mouth making his stomach turn. 

"Interesting." The voice said, "You fear that as well? So your vow must also contain a rule about speaking about it."

A foot was tapping impatiently on the concrete floor before Gojo's voice spoke up.

"Think you can get past the vow?"

The unknown person replied, "Oh, undoubtedly so, sir. Just give me time. Have I failed you yet?"

Gojo clicked his tongue then spat, "No." 

"I apologize," the voice said with a gentle laugh, "I can tell you are impatient. I will do this as quickly as possible, but it will take me at least a few hours. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable if you occupied yourself elsewhere?"

"You just don't want me to see how you do it." Gojo scoffed.

The voice didn't reply.

"Fine." Gojo huffed. His heavy footsteps stomped towards the door before Red heard it open. "I'll be back in a while."

"Very well, sir." The voice replied.

Red took a deep breath, feeling the air in the room grow heavy with a sinister presence. The voice erupted into laughter, starting off as a gentle chuckle before transforming into a wicked cackle. Suddenly, two hands rested on Red's knees as the mysterious figure leaned in, whispering something in his ear.

"My dear Red," they said, "Let's play a game of Password, shall we? You know how it works, don't you? I'll guess and you'll tell me if I'm right. But of course, a game is no fun without consequences or a win condition."

Red gave a slight nod as the hands released his legs and positioned themselves behind him. Once again, the hand gently rested on top of his head, its owner uttering, "This is for well-behaved boys." A moment of silence followed, accompanied by the sound of a metallic device clicking. Suddenly, his finger was pressed onto a tiny slot, causing him to gasp before an intense force came crashing down.

The searing pain engulfed him, causing him to gasp for air as his nail was forcefully ripped off. The sensation of his exposed skin stung intensely, aggravated by the icy breeze against his bare finger. Was it bleeding? He couldn't tell. Nausea overwhelmed him, the agony so intense that it seemed as if his fingertip had been completely severed.

Red let out a groan when the stranger took his finger off the device. He heard a soft rustling of fabric as they positioned themselves in front of him once more.

"I've given myself a handicap, but as you know you only get so many guesses to solve Password." The voice said, "That means we have only nineteen more tries! Please make this easy for us, Red. We both want to win here."

"What do you want?" Red mumbled, "I- I can't tell ye anything unless I... I..." His voice died in his throat.

"Good start, actually." The unknown chuckled, "What will happen if you disobey?"

"Nerve damage." Red said quietly, "If we break the vow we are struck deaf and dumb."

"Ooh!" The voice cooed, "How sinister! Someone really wants to keep this secret don't they?"

Red felt a gentle hand glide across his shoulder, barely making contact. It then traveled up his neck, weaving through his fiery locks, and finally caressed his scalp with a tender pat on the head.

"Good boy."

⤶ Prev Main Next ↪

[continuations]

Artificial Intelligence Existential Risk Dilemmas

A few week backs I wrote a series of blog posts about the risks from progress in Artificial Intelligence (AI). I specifically addressed that I believe that we are facing not just structural risks, such as algorithmic bias, but also existential ones. There are three dilemmas in pushing the existential risk point at this moment.

First, there is the potential for a "boy who cried wolf" effect. The more we push right now, if (hopefully) nothing terrible happens, then the harder existential risk from artificial intelligence will be dismissed for years to come. This of course has been the fate of the climate community going back to the 1980s. With most of the heat to-date from global warming having been absorbed by the oceans, it has felt like nothing much is happening, which had made it easier to disregard subsequent attempts to warn of the ongoing climate crisis.

Second, the discussion of existential risk is seen by some as a distraction from focusing on structural risks, such as algorithmic bias and increasing inequality. Existential risk should be the high order bit, since we want to have the opportunity to take care of structural risk. But if you believe that existential risk doesn't exist at all or can be ignored, then you will see any mention of it as a potentially intentional distraction from the issues you care about. This unfortunately has the effect that some AI experts who should be natural allies on existential risk wind up dismissing that threat vigorously.

Third, there is a legitimate concern that some of the leading companies, such as OpenAI, may be attempting to use existential risk in a classic "pulling up the ladder" move. How better to protect your perceived commercial advantage than to get governments to slow down potential competitors through regulation? This is of course a well-rehearsed strategy in tech. For example, Facebook famously didn't object to much of the privacy regulation because they realized that compliance would be much harder and more costly for smaller companies.

What is one to do in light of these dilemmas? We cannot simply be silent about existential risk. It is far too important for that. Being cognizant of the dilemmas should, however, inform our approach. We need to be measured, so that we can be steadfast, more like a marathon runner than a sprinter. This requires pro-actively acknowledging other risks and being mindful of anti-competitive moves. In this context I believe it is good to have some people, such as Eliezer Yudkowsky, take a vocally uncompromising position because that helps stretch the Overton window to where it needs to be for addressing existential AI risk to be seen as sensible.

[unseededtoast]

Rectify | Bucky Barnes

Part 4/37 | Part Three, Part Five

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Bucky Barnes x OC

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"I know who you are."

Out of a dead silence, chaos. Tony stands from the table and starts yelling at me, claiming I'm a spy and only here to end the Avengers. The rest of the people try to calm him down, but he's relentless. I sit quietly, knowing I deserve everything he's saying even if it isn't true. If the roles were reversed I can't say as if I'd react any differently. The redhead woman finally escorts him out of the room, leaving Fury, Bruce, Steve, and myself.

"I'm sorry, Adalyn, he's not usually like this. I'm gonna go check on him." Bruce excuses himself from the room, and I give him a small nod of acknowledgement. Fury is the next one to speak up.

"Well, the dirty laundry has been aired. Tony will come around kid nobody here is completely innocent." He gets up and leaves the room. I look to Steve, his arms are crossed and he's staring at me intensely, jaw set firmly.

"I grew up with Bucky, he was my best friend. I was there when he fell from the train. I know that's not him doing these things, and I know the real Bucky is in there somewhere. Sometimes good people do bad things, sometimes they don't have a choice. And if you're the one who designed whatever is in his mind right now, you know it better than anyone else." His voice is soft and tender, sincere. I don't know everything about Bucky's history, and I definitely would not have expected his childhood best friend to be Captain America. I can see from the look in his eyes that Steve wants nothing more than to have his friend back.

"I appreciate you giving me a chance to correct my wrongdoing, even if nobody else here will. I give you my word that I will do whatever I can to get him back. It's been my biggest and only regret of my life, what I did to him." I retain eye contact with him, showing my sincerity as well. The situation is shocking to me, there's a lot to process, but I feel inclined to promise this to Steve. He stands from his seat and motions for me to follow him.

We walk out of the door and are met by Fury, who joins us. The two walk ahead of me, taking much quicker strides than I'm used to. I feel like a toddler trying to keep up with Olympic sprinters, and the exhaustion from the day doesn't make it any easier. We get into an elevator, and head to a lower level. There are barely any people on this level and it's darker as well in terms of both color and lighting. There are reinforced steel doors along the walls, telling me they keep some unsavory things, or people, down here.

Fury unlocks one of the doors and allows Steve and myself to step in before he shuts it behind him. We're in a small hallway, with glass on one side, allowing us to see what's being kept in the room. I see a big glass container in the center of the room, with the Winter Soldier strapped in the chair. I'm unable to tear my eyes away, it's as if my feet have been welded to the floor. I haven't seen him in five years, but have thought about him every day during those years.

I notice that he looks worse than he did when I left, my heart breaks for him. What a poor, tortured soul. I've missed him so much. My eyes sting with tears and a lone drop streams down my face. Steve stands next to me, arms crossed once again with a hard look on his face.

"He's been here for about two weeks now. Nobody's been able to get near him safely so we had to sedate him. Bruce and Tony are trying to figure out how to undo what Hydra put in his mind." Steve explains as I continue to study the Soldier. I never expected to see him again, it's all surreal.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm more shocked to see him or more shocked to learn that Hydra was able to use him in my absence. I still am not quite sure how they figured it out, but that answer will have to wait for another day.

"I can. I can be around him safely." I simply state, breaking my stare to look at Steve. He sighs and looks back to his best friend in the other room.

"We can worry about that tomorrow, it's been a long day." Fury says and ushers us out of the room.

A wave of exhaustion rolls over me, and I agree with the Director. Bright and early tomorrow is when I'll start reversing what I did many years ago under Hydra command. I can use tonight to brainstorm some ideas and get a head start. Steve and I end up going to the same hallway. He opens the door across the hall and bids me a goodnight, and I return the sentiment.

The morning rolls around quicker than I would've liked. I get up and check the dresser drawers, not having anything to wear except the clothes I came in, which have small blood spatter stains. Shield confiscated what I had brought, they're probably going through everything with careful detail.

Thankfully, there are uniforms in the drawers, all identical to one another. The top is dark blue and long sleeved, it clings to my arms though I wish it was a little looser. The pants fit the same way, just a little too tight for comfort. There's a knock at the door, and I go to answer it.

"Good morning, I thought we could get a head start on the day." Steve smiles slightly. I return his smile and nod,

"That's exactly what I was hoping to do." I shut the door once I'm in the hallway and follow Steve back down to the basement. As we're walking, he decides to fill the silence with small talk,

"I still can't believe this is happening. What are the odds that you would be here after we found him. Some of the others, they think this isn't a coincidence that this is happening at the same time we found Hydra spies and they're skeptical of you, but I have to put my trust into you. For Bucky." I sigh, knowing it was no coincidence either.

"Well, it really isn't a coincidence. Hydra was obviously in the area on some mission and spying on Shield, plus they had found where I was hiding. Lucky for them we just so happened to be in the same area. I had to kill a man to get here, they tried to take me back to Siberia. I killed him in my kitchen and ran." I admit, hoping that this oversharing wasn't going to damage Steve's newfound trust in me. He didn't skip a beat,

"You had to do it. Like I said yesterday, sometimes good people do bad things, sometimes they have no choice. I've killed people before, we all have here, some more than others." He says, and though the statement should've made me uneasy, it brings some comfort knowing he doesn't think any less of me just like I don't think less of him.

I'm grateful that both Steve and Bruce have been welcoming to me, and hopefully in time the others see me for who I am, not for what I was forced to do. We reach the glass hallway again, and the Soldier is just as he was last night. Nervousness courses through me, I'm not entirely sure how he's going to react seeing me, if he even remembers who I am.

"Can we take him off sedation?" I ask and Steve nods, messing with some levers built into the wall. I'm hoping he has permission to do this, but I don't ask questions for fear of delaying this encounter.

Due to the serum running through his veins, the Soldier wakes up rather quickly. After giving him a few moments to wake up and take in his surroundings, I reach for the handle and give Steve a short nod before going into the room.

His eyes are locked on me from the second I enter the room. Like a lion watching a gazelle. I approach the glass container he's being kept in, anger and confusion both etched into his face.

"I'm not here to hurt you." I say in a soft voice. His expression doesn't falter.

I stand right in front of him. I feel sadness and guilt wash over me once again, but I suppress these feelings, I know I can't appear weak in front of him. I begin assessing his condition, and it isn't good. His hair is tangled, there are deep dark circles around his eyes. He's lost weight since the last time I saw him. I know from his physical appearance that his mental wellbeing has also likely gotten worse. Nobody has been taking care of him, it's obvious.

If he's been contained here for two weeks without being placed in cryogenesis or having the programming reset, it's likely he's dealing with a lot of random resurfacing memories from his time as Bucky and also the Soldier. The programming was designed to be intense for short periods of time, over time it grows weaker and he begins coming out of the fog. He was never supposed to be out for more than a week at a time.

The experience is probably frightening for him, I can't imagine the feeling of loneliness and helplessness he may be facing. He's probably confused about what's happening and there's been nobody to help him. At least I'm here now, hopefully I can alleviate some of his suffering.

"My name is Adalyn, I am here to -"

"I know who you are." He cuts me off, his voice deep and gravelly. I freeze in place, not anticipating him to say anything.

"I am here to help you, I am not going to hurt you." I say, keeping my voice delicate and soft, yet sincere. He stays silent, I know he doesn't believe me. I lick my lips and try to keep my voice from wavering,

"I am going to undo everything that's been done." I say, and against my strongest efforts, feel tears begin to well in my lower lash line and a lump form in my throat.

His expression is still hard as stone, and I turn away to leave knowing I can't fight back the tears. This is all too much too quickly and the gravity of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I get back into the hallway and the tears run free. Steve stands, unsure of what to do as I wipe my eyes, looking into the room where the Soldier sits bound against his will. Through tears and a shaky voice, I look to Steve,

"I need to go to the lab, can you take me?" I ask and he silently nods and returns the levers on the wall to where they originally were, putting Bucky back under sedation. Steve leads me to the lab where I met Bruce yesterday in silence, probably replaying everything he just saw. I'm usually good at hiding my emotions but my entire life has just been turned upside down in the matter of two days and I haven't had time to really process what's happening, it still doesn't feel entirely real to me.

As I step into the lab I see Bruce, along with Tony. The grad student isn't anywhere to be seen. I thank Steve for taking me and he walks away quietly.

"Good morning Adalyn, is everything okay?" Bruce asks, walking up to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. I nod knowing it's apparent I was just crying,

"Things will be okay, I just need to get to work." We walk over to the tables and Tony disregards my presence. They're still looking at the microscope slides, the same ones from yesterday. I would offer to explain things to Tony, but I have a feeling he doesn't want to hear anything from me.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Bruce asks and I nod my head.

"Yeah actually. I had a book that I brought with me. I'm going to need that." Bruce nods and I hear Tony scoff,

"Of course, I'll be right back." Bruce says and leaves the room, now it's just Tony and myself. I can tell from his body language that he's less than thrilled to have me here.

"I know you don't trust me and that's fine, I probably wouldn't trust me either if it were the other way around. But I'm telling you I know this better than anyone on Earth. I'm only here to help." I say, trying to break some of the tension and clear my name of being an alleged Hydra spy. He stops what he's doing and stares at me with an eyebrow raised.

"You just expect me to trust your word? You may have the rest of them fooled but I'll believe it when I see it." He stares, waiting for my reaction.

"That's alright with me." I smile at him, which probably made him more mad than anything else. He squints his eyes and tilts his head,

"If you so much as try to sabotage anything or anyone in here, I promise you will never see the light of day again. These are my people, this is my work. I will not have either jeopardized." I brush off the threat and sigh, I don't think I'm going to get through to him, not yet at least.

"I understand you think I'm a spy, that's reasonable considering recent circumstances. I'm here to fix my mistakes, right my wrongs. If you can't accept that, that's not on me but I made a promise I intend to keep." I say. Tony goes back to looking at the slides without saying another word. Bruce walks back in, with my book in hand.

"It took some serious convincing to get this thing." Bruce hands it to me, and I take the red leather in my hands. I flip through the pages, it looks untouched though I know they probably made a copy somewhere. I know for a fact I took detailed notes about how I designed the program, it's just a matter of reverse engineering it. I think it's possible, it might just take some time to figure out.

"Can I get some paper and a pen?" I ask and Bruce hands the supplies to me, watching what I'm doing. I rewrite in English the steps I took to install the programming within the mind. I show the paper to Bruce,

"These are the steps I took to suppress memories, I think I can reverse the effects." I softly smile and watch him read over the paper,

"How can you reverse this? I'm not even sure what exactly it is." He admits.

"The Winter Soldier never had his memories erased, they were just buried very, very deep within his brain. Over time with no intervention it's highly likely they'll resurface on their own. When they resurface it's possible that his pre-serum memories will be entangled with his memories as the Soldier, and that's less than ideal. My plan is to reverse engineer the programming to remove it completely from his brain, or at least figure out a way that makes the trigger sequence obsolete. Doing that removes the threat of the Winter Soldier making a reappearance, but I'm not quite sure where to start just yet. In the meantime, I will use therapeutic techniques to guide him through the resurfacing process the best that I can because there's no way I can stop that." I explain quickly, giving them the SparkNotes version of what I'm envisioning and thinking. Bruce has a hand on his chin as he processes what I just said.

"So you're saying that even if memories get suppressed, it's possible to get them back?" I nod,

"Yes, I believe in his case there is a good chance of his memories resurfacing just based on the way the programming is designed. Though some of the memories may take longer to come back than others. I'm not entirely sure of the long-term effects this is going to have on him, but I think there's hope." I say, feeling a tinge of hopefulness for the first time in a very, very long time.

[yourlocaldilemma]

Golden thoughts {part 5} (ln4)

Lando Norris x fem!sprinter!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Part 5/7 part one part two part three part four

Warnings: none really, Charles is kind of a dick sorry

A/n: sorry this took so long to get out 😭 school is so busy. This is more or less a filler chapter, but the next one is going to get spicier i promise. As always, feedback is appreciated

—————————————————————————

The night time city life of downtown London glows and rushes beneath you. The view from your top floor penthouse gives you the perfect vantage point of the thousands of lives intertwining and bustling on the ground.

Great Britain was definitely one of your favourite meets of the season. The city, the views, the bright people and homey food. You would argue it had always been this way, that you had always had a sweet spot for the British air.

Your friends on the other hand, would argue that it was a recent development, caused by a sweet spot for a British boy.

You would be lying if you said Lando hadn’t become a pretty regular part of your days, but he was just a friend. Another person who got the Jetlag, the pressure, the constant training. Nothing more than a late night “how are you’s?” and sarcastic exchanges from across time zones.

After a personal best and first place finish in Monaco, you had made your way to Great Britain for the 10th track meet of the year. Your eyelids were heavy with the day of travel, but you had strict instructions keeping you up for another three hours so that you were ready with a full nights sleep for training tomorrow.

This was only your second year sprinting professionally, and the reality of it was still partially unfathomable. Sometimes you’d lie awake late into the night, insomnia from a deep fluttering joy keeping you from drifting off because finally, finally, your reality was better than your dreams.

The phone lying hot in your pocket vibrates against your leg. When you scan the notification, the edges of your lips flit up into a small smile.

Lando: I see you’re in GB huh? Need a tour guide?

He attaches a screenshot of your instagram post from earlier today, a picture you took in the airport and captioned with the U.K’s flag. You roll your eyes at his eager message.

Sent: Hi Y/N, how was your day? I know flying is stressful for you. Are you excited for the track meet this weekend?

Lando: sorry

Lando: how are you?

Sent: I’m absolutely lovely Lando, thanks for asking

Lando: how come when you use sarcasm it’s ok but when I use it I’m “immature”

Sent: Because I said so :)

You click off your phone and turn it face down on the nightstand. The wood floors and expensive looking tile echo your steps sleekly as you walk into the huge master bathroom.

Water flows from the articulate gold tap as mascara runs down your face, mixing with your foundation before dripping off your face in a swirling mess of makeup. Once you’ve washed the evidence of the day down the sink, you turn to the all white shower and let the water run until the glass is steamy enough to write on and just hot enough to scald the airport off you you. The hotel soap leaves a heavy scent of Eucalyptus in the bathroom as you cover yourself in thick suds from head to toe before working shampoo through your hair. By the time you’re done, and clad in a heavy white robe, the sun has completely set and you have to stumble through the pitch black bedroom to find the light switch.

Flopping down onto the bed, you pick your phone up again. You groan at the one and a half hours until you can let sleep take you before scrolling through your socials to pass time. You empty out your inbox, responding to a few important emails before selecting multiple instagram posts to respond to and posting a message about the race weekend before you.

Lando: How long are you here for?

You swipe the notification off the top of your screen. You have not even half enough energy to deal with the cheeky comments about taking you out that you knew were going to follow.

Lando: Y/N

You ignore the text again, but smile slightly at his boyish persistence.

It’s not minutes before an instagram notification comes through.

Lando Norris: Y/NNN

Your smile grows wider and you open the message, only to close instagram after making sure Lando would have gotten the notification that you read his message. Not even 20 seconds later, a twitter notification pops up.

Lando Norris: Y/N I know you’re reading this you little shit

You leave him on read again, practically kicking your feet with laughter as you picture Landos face pinched together with annoyance. You wiggle deeper into your pillow, preparing to spend your last conscious hour this way.

WhatsApp comes next.

Lando: Y/N don’t make me call Charles

Then comes a FaceTime request, which you let ring 6 times before accepting with defeat.

“Hah!”

“Low blow Lando.”

“I’m not as stupid as you think.“

You smile sweetly at him, the light from your phone illuminating your face in the mostly dark hotel room. His smile softens as he takes you in.

“You look cute.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah all wrapped up and sleepy in your robe like that.” He clears his throat as you don’t say anything back to him. “You never responded to my tour guide question.”

“It’s not my first time in the UK.” You rest the phone on your knees and stomach, bring your hands up to your eyes so you can slowly pick the polish off your nails.

“But it’s your first time with me.”

“Don’t you have a race to be getting ready for? I don’t think your team will be happy if you waste your precious training time showing some random girl around.”

You can hear Landos phone scuffing against the desk he’s seated at as his head dips out of the frame. When he returns to the picture, he has earbuds in.

“You’re not just some random girl.”

“Then what am I?” You raise one eyebrow and quirk the other, making eye contact with Lando through the phone.

“You’re Y/N.”

“That is insightful. Merci.”

The simple French makes him scrunch his nose up. “Mhmmm?”

You smile. Lando smiles back, running a hand through his curls.

“Silverstone isn’t until next week anyway. I have time. Anyway -“

He gasps, a drawn out, high pitched noise in the back of his throat.

“Y/N! You should come to the race!”

“The F1 race? I don’t think so.”

“Give me one good reason why not. You’ve been friends with Charles forever. I’m actually surprised you haven’t been to one already.”

You wince slightly at the second reminder of Charles. You hadn’t been on the best terms with him since you became friend with Lando, which was hard for you both. You had been friends for longer then you were able to remember and to not text each other every day gave you a sinking feeling.

The same sinking feeling, that you felt grow in your stomach when you thought about those small little moments with Lando. Braiding his hair, cooking dinner, falling asleep on him. The moments you never talked about, but continued to happen none the less. You hadn’t seen him in person since Monaco, but one too many late night conversations had ended with a comment a little to boyfriend-ish.

“You know exactly why Charles never invited me to a race.”

“Because he’s a selfish French asshole who keeps you under lock and key because he knows that he treats you like shit but wants you for his own?”

“Good god Lando.”

Just then your phone buzzes, the vibrations pushing it off its precarious balancing point on your body.

It’s the last person you expect to be texting you right now, seeing as Arthur Leclerc was currently on the other side of the world for a training camp.

“Earth to Y/N? What happened?”

“Um wow,” you whistle under your breath, “Arthur just invited me to the race. Courtesy of him and Charles.”

“The race as in silverstone? You’d go for Charles but not for me?”

Your mind didn’t have to capacity to handle Landos comment. You had half a mind to turn on the news, to check if the sky was caving in.

The Leclerc brothers had never even contemplated inviting you to a race. There were good reasons as to why, and it worked just fine for all of you.

“Why would he be inviting me?” You mumble. Landos eyes soften.

“I don’t know princess.”

“What do I say?”

“Do you want to go?”

You take a moment to really think about the offer. You love F1, you love the Leclerc’s, and while you’d dreamt of going to a race it had never became reality. Something about the offer sat sour in your mind though, because the hesitant feeling in place of what should be excitement had you with the judgment to turn the offer away.

“Something about it feels off.”

Lando just nods in agreement. Feeling like you’re reading his mind, you think back to what he had said about Charles earlier, when you were safe and protected and drunk on the night. The words echo around your head.

“Charles knew that anyone who met you would never want to leave you alone, meaning he would lose more of you. So he kept you to himself.”

“Princess?”

You scrunch your face at the name drawing a laugh out of Lando.

“I don’t think I want to go. I think you’re right, what you said about Charles, and if it’s because he’s scared then we can work through that, but now; if he’s inviting me to a race to prove a point,” you pause. “Then I don’t want to go. Right offer, wrong reason.”

Lando bobs his head in agreement through the phone. He open his mouth like he’s about to say something important before decisively closing it again.

“Spit it out Norris.” You tease with a grin.

Your relationship with him has seemingly gone in reverse order, becoming more and more platonic as you grow closer. So when Lando open his mouth again, the words that fall out of it come as a shock.

“What if you accept Charles’ offer, his tickets, but in your mind you’re there for me?” He meets your eyes. “I would offer you my tickets but I don’t know if you want that and I’ve already promised them to my family, of course.”

The silence between you grows louder the longer you toss the idea around in your head without saying anything.

“Isn’t that using him?”

“It’s using your recourses. Plus, you’ll still be watching from Ferrari hospitality. In your heart you’re still there for Charles.”

“But I’ll also be there for you.”

“So you’re coming?” The precious gap between his teeth show as Lando smiles at you through FaceTime.

You groan and end the call.

~~

6 days later, with the temperature rising steadily throughout the week, the paddock is unbearably hot. A concrete jungle of cars and people and buildings, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck as you sit in the Ferrari hospitality. The small balcony had no shade cover and you could practically see the heat coming off the metal railings.

You hadn’t seen Charles all day, and Aurthur had barley talked to you, preoccupied with asking endless questions to the engineers.

You were fine to be there alone. You spent most of your time like that anyway, and you were finally at an F1 race. The atmosphere was electric and seeing all the drivers preform was amazing. The camera could never capture the true speed of the sport.

Your phone vibrates on the table.

Lando: I’m assuming you’re not busy, seeing as Charles is down here on his phone.

You could sense his distaste.

Lando: come meet me down by the media pen

You had half a mind to tell Lando he had better things to be doing, but you were getting a little restless waiting for the race. And plus, he needed his braid right?

Sure enough, when you found Lando sitting in a bench in front of the empty media pen, he greeted you with a smile before stating “I need a braid.”

Giggling, you sit down beside him. There are bushes on either side of the bench and the ground is dark from the shade of a looming building to your left. As you begin pulling his hair into a braid, you see Charles walk over your way. You feel Lando tense in front of you as Charles meets your eyes.

You can see him look at you with a hurtful amount of disgust before walking away again.

“Just ignore him.”

You tie off Landos braid. “It’s just a little tough.”

“You’re allowed to feel that way.”

Someone in a bright McLaren shirt emerges from behind a trailer, head spinning around, quite obviously looking for something.

“Shit. I have to go.” He stands up and offers his hand to you. You better be cheering for me today.”

“I was actually planning on cheering for Yuki”

Lando flips you off with a laugh and a wink before heading off in the direction of the McLaren employee.

“Podium?” You call after him.

“For you princess? Seven days a week and 62 times on a Sunday.”

—————————————————————————

TAGLIST: @laneyspaulding19 @ssararuffoni

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