#summon an old god they said

[gaynaturalistghost]

My lichen boy as a very little baby, he’s a old god of old Ascomycetes and almost all lichen fall in that division. Lichens are interesting because it’s not a heritage thing it’s more like a lifestyle choice. The ability to lichenize has been gained and lost several times. I read a paper that changed the emergence of lichens after crown tracheophytes (vascular plants, like ferns, horsetails etc) and I pictured his sister division, Glomeromycota sort of bringing him to land. Glomeromycetes are mycorrhizal and can kind of be… assholes about it. They can hoard everything and might force a symbiosis which is interesting. Um, yeah. I have more art for them floating around my blog.

[supermaks]

Charles got a fine

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[cute-little-crow]

Based on a request by 💌 anon on how Sylus might react if he finds out you’re ovulating…

tw: female reader, talk of ovulation, implied breeding kink, Sylus has a strong reaction to the news, mention of birth control, NSFW throughout but part two will be worse 😈

Part Two

Fragrant water sloshed over the edge of the tub, your skin slippery from the concoction of essential oils added earlier in the hope of relieving your aches and pains. Your hand slid against your body, glossing over hardened nipples and dipping past your navel towards the dull, throbbing ache between your legs.

Your eyes remained stubbornly closed, thoughts of the debauched nature swirling in a vortex of crimson and obsidian feathers. God, you wished you could admit everything to him… admit that you were struggling, but it wouldn’t be fair to press your burdens onto Sylus.

That was why you had avoided him as much as you could. Why you had dodged the touches he tried to brush against your skin, worried that one touch alone would be enough to give the game away. That he would know from the blazing heat of your skin that things were not as they seemed.

You knew it bothered him, not that he had said anything on the subject, but it was only a matter of time. Sylus was not one to be denied.

As if summoned by thought alone, a sharp knock punctuated your daydreaming. Sinking lower into the tub until your chin hit the waterline, you listened as the low rumble of Sylus’s voice drifted through the door.

“Can I come in, sweetie?”

A tiny part of you wanted to refuse him, but that would be cruel, and cruelty was not a part of your nature, not even in your current state.

Vermillion eyes locked with yours, curious and if you weren’t mistaken, concerned. Sylus sat on the edge of the bath, his back resting on the ceramic tiles whilst he cocked his head and let out a weary breath.

“For a minute, I didn’t think you would let me in,” he admitted whilst carefully rolling the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows. “You’ve been avoiding me, kitten, why?”

You glanced off to the side, heat warmed your cheeks at the accusation. How did you tell him that it was for his own good? He didn’t need you distracting him unnecessarily with wants that made you blush and squirm with embarrassment.

Splash…

His strong hand plunged into the steaming water and wrapped around your ankle. He thumbed across your ankle bone delicately, long fingers splayed around your heel and towards your arch.

“Talk to me.”

The words were followed up with a squeeze of his hand, eliciting a moan that you couldn’t suppress. The corner of Sylus’s mouth twitched upward into a subtle smile, his grasp loosening to run the length of your calf.

“Sylus… I—it doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay, in a few days I’ll be back to my old self.”

“A few days? Nuh-uh, sweetie… I am not prepared to wait so long and I am certainly not willingly to have you continue to avoid me. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He asked, brow furrowed and the first tendrils of his power leaked out to wash over you.

The power called to your own, entwined around each other in a lovers embrace, twisting and writhing. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, though if you were more present of mind you might have noticed how his breathing had turned shallow and his fingers had stopped massaging calf.

You licked over your parched lips. Gaze low-lidded as desire overrode your previous reservations.

“I’m… can you not look at me like that whilst I tell you this? It’s not helping.”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re going to devour me whole.”

Sylus huffed a laugh. “I just might, but fine. I’ll close my eyes, how about that?”

He was so handsome and that was certainly a large part of the problem. You’d lost count to the number of times you had fantasised about him soothing the ache in your belly. A large palm pressed against your soft belly whilst he thrust into your hot, wet cunt. His silver hair tickling your shoulder as he marked the skin of your neck, blowing cool air across the blooming bruises. Filling you up over and over until sleep took you hostage and you could happily drown in the fatigue of overused muscles.

“I’m ovulating,” you finally conceded, rushing on to explain. “It makes me feel needy. My body is hypersensitive. I’m prone to my emotions getting the better of me. Picking fights over nothing. Letting jealousy win. It’s a lot and I’m trying not to let it affect you…”

There was a weighty silence, filled only with the gentle sway of the water, and then it was broken.

“Ovulating. You’re… shit—well, that explains a thing or two.”

His eyes were positively glowing. His jaw set into an expression of pure agony. If looks could inflict damage you knew you’d be bloody beneath his dangerous maw.

Sylus was pure predator and you were the only prey he ever wanted to both consume and protect.

“Soft or rough?”

The question didn’t make sense and you frowned in confusion, nose wrinkled.

He answered by submerging his arm into the tub, right between your legs. Not even your attempt at closing your knees together would hinder his progress, not until he cupped your sex.

“I am giving you a choice,” he grit out, jaw flexing, “on how the next few hours are going to go. Either way, you will be asleep in my arms and content by the time I’m finished.”

“Oh, Sylus~”

Sylus groaned. His middle finger rubbed along your slit swollen with heat and desire, dipping through the hot flesh like a knife through butter.

“Don’t. Don’t say my name like that or I’ll make the decision for you,” he warned.

Saliva filled your mouth, runny and hot. “Rough,” you purred, letting your pussy answer for you. “But Sylus… I’m not on birth control right now.”

Sylus, who had started to rise to his feet with his arm dripping and his shirt sleeve dark with water, paused. He turned his gaze on you once more and your spine arched off the porcelain tub, nipples peaked and swollen emerged from the fragrant water.

“Stop talking, princess. I’m already a hair away from plucking you from the water and taking you on the bathroom floor like a dog.”

He strode for the door, ripping it open with such force that you shuddered.

“Five minutes. You have five minutes to get out and get onto all fours on our bed. I want to see my pretty pussy glistening and ready for me… maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, if you’re lucky.”

You asked for rough… you were going to get it.

an: part two coming soon… dividers by @/roseschoices

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ million dollar baby (gr63)

wolff!reader x george russell // fc: lani pliopa

Being the eldest daughter, you kept pretty much everything to yourself in favor of your siblings getting the limelight. When you start soft-launching your boyfriend after years of being quiet about who he is, everyone scrambles to find the truth.

warnings/notes: nothing really? i do have george win silverstone in this (i wrote it forever ago ok?) so just pretend he did. just pretend guys. pls.

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, alexalbon, and others...

ynwolff: hanging with the wolff pack (+ george) back home before our home race this weekend <3

tagged: georgerussell, susiewolff, mercedesamg

mercedesamg: refueling for a great weekend ahead !!

user: the photo of jack and george shut up

lilymhe: WHOOO??? FLOWERS??? HELLO??

⤷ ynwolff: shut up shut up ur gonna summon alex shh

⤷ alexalbon: BITCH WHAT?

logansargeant: @ ynwolff , alex and lily are literally losing it over this.

⤷ ynwolff: greaaaattt 🫠

user: is george driving in the second pic??

⤷ user: no bc who else would have a convertible mercedes if not george russell

georgerussell: i still think the trunk is unnesscessary

⤷ ynwolff: shut uP RUSSELL???

user: imagine being rich enough to have huge flower bouquets in the back of your mercedes... i could cry

susiewolff: oh, this is where all the flowers came from?

⤷ ynwolff: 😀 yes ! they are mine !

⤷ susiewolff: ur father has extra vases in the downstairs bathroom

⤷ ynwolff: thank uuu xx

liked by susiewolff, georgerussell, landonorris, and others...

ynwolff: silvastone day one baby !! (expect insane spam this weekend.)

tagged: susiewolff, mercedesamg

lewishamilton: i need the bono photo for... reasons...

⤷ ynwolff: im gonna start paying you for using my wolff charm to get blackmail

⤷ lewishamilton: i literally buy you so much food atp shut up

⤷ ynwolff: 🩵

mickschumacher: glad the gloves are getting use

user: oh to be yn

mercedesamg: those flowers are as beautiful as our favorite head communications officer 🩵

⤷ ynwolff: admin when i see u tomorrow i will kiss u on the lips

⤷ mercedesamg: toto told me to stop flirting with u :(

⤷ ynwolff: booo tomato tomato tomato

user: JACK AND THE CARRR SOBBSS

susiewolff: more flowers?

⤷ ynwolff: what if i said i just really like flowers ?

⤷ susiewolff: i would say your father is suspicious

⤷ ynwolff: when is he not though..

liked by susiewolff

ynwolff added to their story!

replies...

alexalbon: does george know mystery man??

⤷ ynwolff: he's sworn to secrecy, sorry !

lewishamilton: ah yes. the peak of subtly.

landonorris: aren't you both supposed to be sleeping?

⤷ ynwolff: says you, norris. ill tell jon on you >:)

⤷ landonorris: WOW.

susiewolff: your father says both of you need to sleep

⤷ ynwolff: why are you both awake 😭

⤷ susiewolff: you know toto has like a sixth sense for you, right? he heard you leave the room.

⤷ ynwolff: LMAO okay 👍🏻 we are coming back up

⤷ ynwolff: tell dad i beat george at pool

⤷ susiewolff: he says good job

liked by ynwolff

ynwolff has added to their story!

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

ynwolff: what a quali!! p4 and p5!! so proud of my boys!

tagged: mercedesamg, roscoelovescoco, georgerussell, lewishamilton

danielricciardo: roscoe the mvp

user: jack in the chair omg

mercedesamg: a great day with great help from even the littlest wolffs!!

user: lewis in the shades og my GOD

user: another day another set of great george photos from yn

lewishamilton: did lowkey fear for my life with your father chasing me...

⤷ ynwolff: fair enough

susiewolff: a great day today :)!

logansargeant: what secrets his roscoe spill?

⤷ ynwolff: @ lewishamilton s secret to looking so good at his old age

⤷ lewishamilton: its called melanin and neither of you have it

georgerussell: thanks for all the love today yn 🩵

user: yn always takes really good photos and ten really fucking funny ones

⤷ user: shes the queen of duality

secretlifeofyn (private acc) has added to their story!

replies...

lando.jpg: shut the actual fuck up is this a date??

⤷ secretlifeofyn: remind me why i let you into this account again?

roscoesdad: fucking called it, tell george he owes me dinner

⤷ secretlifeofyn: have you ever noted the three of us always bet dinner? (george said he'd pay next time)

⤷ roscoesdad: yeah because food is the best currency, duh?

alobonoo: OH MY FUCKING GOD?

alobonoo: HELLO??

notalexsm: oh !!! oh my god !!! shut upp!!! this is george right?

⤷ secretlifeofyn: the watch gives it away, doesn't it?

⤷ notalexsm: yes (charles says congrats if this is a date!!)

⤷ secretlifeofyn: tell charles thank you <3

maxverstappen: if you need a hideout from your father after he finds this one out, we have an extra bedroom, the fee is babysitting p

⤷ secretlifeofyn: thanks max i will keep that in mind 🙏🏻

liked by alobonooo, lilgrit, lilyzneimer, and 154 others...

secretlifeofyn: everyone on this account is sworn to secrecy (because my father) but YES. WE ARE DATING. NOW SHUT UP !!!!

alobonoo: HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU GUYS HAVE A DEATH WISH

alobonoo: called this like two years ago tho i am the oracle

⤷ muninotlily: alex the oracle of georgeyn

⤷ secretlifeofyn: GEORGEYN??

lilgrit: the day toto realizes it's george you're dating, a health bar is gonna appear at the top of george's eyeline with the word 'toto' on top

⤷ ls2.priv: he stands no chance im afriad.

ls2.priv: rip george you would've loved the flintstones 💔

junior55: @ lando.jpg you owe me sushi for this

⤷ lando.jpg: @ mrsaturday how could u do this to me?

lilyzneimer: awee!!! congrats guys!!

mrsaturday: we posted this so you guys would STOP and you got WORSE

muninotlily: alex is pacing help me

⤷ lando.jpg: LOLLL HE LOST SO MANY BETS 😭

⤷ secretlifeofyn: what bets did you guys place im scared

⤷ lando.jpg: we bet george couldn't pull you

⤷ mrsaturday: i have won so much money

⤷ secretlifeofyn: if you buy me more flowers my dad is going to actually be concerned.

maxverstappen: the extra bedroom offer still stands

⤷ secretlifeofyn: thanks max we'll need it

liked by mercedesamg, susiewolff, georgerussell and others...

ynwolff: pre-race day silverstone !! <3 (not shown, the 1356 photos george took of himself when I asked him to hold my phone while i was in a meeting...)

tagged: mercedesamg, lewishamilton, georgerussell

mercedesamg: always having fun out here!!

georgerussell: i blessed your phone with my beauty

⤷ ynwolff: whatever u say georgie

⤷ user: georgie ??????

lewishamilton: the 1356 photos are funny though

landonorris: just a guy being a guy

user: the photo of george with the screen behind him feels like a meme format

user: george looks so squishy in the last picture

user: not yn getting the cutest photo of george ever??

susiewolff: your father swore that sweater wasnt going to be too much

⤷ ynwolff: not to expose him but he took it off in five minutes

⤷susiewolff: and now its missing

⤷ ynwolff: I BOUGHT HIM THAT >:(!!!

alexalbon: i demand blackmail material

⤷ ynwolff: buy me snacks and then we'll talk

liked by f1, mercedesamg, georgerussell, and more...

ynwolff: OBLIGATORY GEORGE POST !!! (approved by @ lewishamilton ok no one get mad ! i love my boys equally !)

george!! we were joking about this moment last night but you pulled it off!! i could not be more proud of the work you put in today, you pulled it off last second and made me gnaw my nails off a few times but thats okay.

so so so proud, you get a drink or two on me tonight ! 🩵

tagged: georgerussell, mercedesamg

georgerussell: IM SORRY ABOUT YOUR NAILS ILL PAY FOR NEW ONES !! 😭

⤷ georgerussell: your support does mean the world yn thank you 🩵

⤷ ynwolff: you deserve every bit of it! 🩵

lewishamilton: amazing work as always for both of you!

user: YAYYY GEORGE POST!!!

user: finally a george post to match the iconic lewis post

susiewolff: great work today @ georgerussell !

⤷ georgerussell: thank you susie :)!

mickschumacher: great job george!

user: GEORGE RUSSELL!!!!

user: god the pictures yn gets of george are... fucking AMAZING.

landonorris: mr saturday did it

alexalbon: yabadababoo

⤷ logansargeant: yabadadabadoo

⤷ georgerussell: you both suck :(

⤷ ynwolff: no!!! its cute!!!

⤷ ynwolff: no!! leave them alone :(!

⤷ user: i see that deleted comment yn. ur not slick.

liked by 9823 others...

liked by mrsaturday, alobonoo, muninotlily, and more...

secretlifeofyn: i dont remember any of these photos after the first one. how much did i drink.

roscoesdad: enough for your father to think you DIED until i told him you and george were in my room and fell asleep (you are welcome. i expect free food for a month for this selfless act.)

⤷ secretlifeofyn: i will buy you literally anything lewis oh my fucking god i owe you my LIFE

⤷ lilgrit: the question should be how much didn't you drink because holy shit

alobonoo: u drank literally everyone under the table slay

muninotlily: oh so u stayed with george ? 👀

⤷ secretlifeofyn: hes like a big pillow

⤷ mrsaturday: she's not letting me out of bed :(

maxverstappen: hate to be the bearer of bad news but twitter did catch you ! have fun!

⤷ secretlifeofyn: MAX WHAT?

⤷ mrsaturday: MAX??

lando.jpg: LOL GOOD LUCK GUYS

liked by alexalbon, landonorris, susiewolff, and others...

ynwolff: good news! george and i are dating and my dad did NOT kill him when he found out! bad news! i now have to share my location.

tagged: georgerussell

susiewolff: i think continually sneaking out and then not answering your phone for almost fifteen hours is enough reason to track you

⤷ ynwolff: susie plsssss 🩵 convince him to get rid of it?

⤷ mercedesamg: toto says thats not happening anytime soon. and to tell george curfew is ten.

⤷ ynwolff: I DONT LIVE WITH HIM ANYMORE??

⤷ georgerussell: she's gonna be back by nine if she keeps biting my arm

⤷ ynwolff: stop putting it within biting range then, russell

⤷ georgerussell: you just walked across the room to bite me.

⤷ user: LMAAOOOO YN UR SO REAL FOR THIS

user: "you'd rather i didnt" YN PLSSSS

georgerussell: remind me to never try to sneak around your father again

⤷ alexalbon: buying like nine bouquets of flowers in two days is not exactly sneaking

⤷ georgerussell: she likes flowers and i was excited :(

user: kiss ya in 11! im gonna go lay on a highway in 12!

user: i too, would fall for yn when she threatened me

landonorris: my favorite new grid couple

⤷ georgerussell: we have been dating for like two years??

⤷ landonorris: WHAT?

⤷ alexalbon: HUH??

⤷ oscarpiastri: oh?

⤷ danielricciardo: well god damn

⤷ lewishamilton: how in the hell did we just now find out?

⤷ ynwolff: LMAOOO two years next week <3

⤷ susiewolff: yn you are going to give your father a heart attack

[kastle-thrones]

Genuinely it depends on the occurrence.

Sometimes shifts just feel like gold waves to me. Like something washes over.

Sometimes it feels like emptiness, like something’s been scooped out of me.

Sometimes it feels like crawling, as if what I really am lives just under my skin.

Makes you wanna take off your skin.

Sometimes it feels like something is missing.

A lot of times, it feels like something is missing.

I forget about it a lot, because I don’t speak much about my divinity, not only because of the stigma against it, but because, despite all the evidence, what if I’m wrong?

But sometimes it feels like someone complimenting your eyes and knowing you have thousands of them.

Sometimes it’s missing the feeling of feathers and feeling the way they used to stretch out of your back.

Sometimes it’s getting so lost in the shift that you forget you have a body at all.

And a lot of other stuff.

But anyways. Hope this helps 👍

Fellow Angelkin/Divinekin/Demonkin/Fallen Angelkin/ect. how do you experience shifts? I'm curious, I know what happens and what/how I feel during phantom shifts and whatnot. But I can't help but wonder how others feel.

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

NPMD has the main cast of all time.

Peter “Has been waiting five fucking years for his hot chocolate” Spankoffski.

Stephanie “Puts her hand directly underneath a hammer to protect her phone” Lauter.

Richie “Accidentally filmed incriminating evidence that suggests he and his friends brutally murdered a guy” Lipschitz.

Ruth “Pours her entire heart and soul into a musical number that reflects the motivations and struggles of both herself and the character she’s pretending to be, and literally no one sees it except for the guy who kills her two minutes later” Fleming.

Grace “Has an extremely dirty sexual fantasy despite being the world’s most devout and chaste Christian, Stages an elaborate prank in the old base of a cult, dismembers a body and covers it up without remorse, holds a cop and detective at gunpoint, summons dark gods, fucks a ghost to save the world and then ends said world herself” Chastity.

And finally, Max “Considers a prank made to utterly ruin his life and social reputation the nicest thing ever done for him, but then proceeds to murder the people who pranked him because they made him piss his pants” Jagerman.

Incredible.

[solxamber]

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird.

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Scene 1: The Offering of... Chaos?

You were determined. Absolutely, one hundred percent determined to win over Malleus Draconia’s heart the fae way. You’d done your research—well, half-researched. You might’ve skimmed some books. Okay, maybe you watched some video where a guy talked about it for 10 minutes. But still! You were ready to tackle fae courting, head-on.

Which is why you were standing in the middle of the campus courtyard holding a potted mandrake. Because, according to some source (you couldn’t quite remember which), gifting rare plants was a surefire way to court a fae prince.

Unfortunately, no one told you that the mandrake in question would scream like a banshee as soon as you yanked it out of the dirt.

"Behold!" You shouted, thrusting the potted terror toward Malleus, who had appeared in his usual fashion—stealthy and majestic, like a dragon perching on a mountain. "A rare gift for the noble Prince of Briar Valley!"

The mandrake, in all its wailing glory, let out a soul-piercing shriek. Nearby students flung themselves behind trees and bushes. Sebek fainted. Silver, as usual, napped through the chaos.

Malleus blinked at you. Once. Twice. His face was a mixture of confusion and slight amusement. "Are you... trying to summon something?"

You frowned. "Summon? No! This is for you!" You held the screaming mandrake higher, like an offering to some ancient god. "As a... token of my appreciation! You like plants, right?"

The mandrake let out a final, particularly blood-curdling scream before going silent, wilting slightly in the pot. Malleus blinked once. Twice. “I... do like plants, yes. But usually... not ones that wish to harm me.”

You grinned, proud of your extremely thoughtful choice. “Well, this one just has personality!”

Malleus cautiously took the pot from you, staring down at the now exhausted mandrake. “Thank you,” he said, sounding unsure if you were joking or being sincere. “I’ll... treasure it.”

Somewhere in the distance, Ace and Deuce exchanged pitying looks. “Man,” Ace muttered, “he doesn’t deserve this.”

Scene 2: The Worst Poem Ever Written

Malleus had been doing his own research—much more thorough than yours, of course. He’d read books. Lots of them. Mostly ancient tomes from his castle library that were centuries old. After all, human courting customs couldn’t have changed that much, right?

His plan was foolproof: Humans enjoyed poetry. Therefore, he would craft you the most beautiful, heart-stopping poem ever written, and your affection for him would blossom like the midnight roses of Briar Valley.

He found you sitting under a tree near the school, probably recovering from your last spectacular fae courting attempt (the less said about the mandrake incident, the better). Malleus approached with all the grace of a dark prince, his black cloak billowing in the wind, carrying a scroll in his hand.

"Dearest," he began, as you looked up from your phone. "I have composed a poem for you. An ode to your beauty and grace."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. Please, allow me." He unfurled the scroll dramatically.

You sat back, intrigued. This was either going to be a disaster or absolute gold. Either way, you were ready.

Malleus cleared his throat, then began to read with all the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor:

"Your hair, like the moss that grows on the oldest tombstones,

Your eyes, like the deepest, darkest, creepiest of wells,

Your voice, as soothing as the distant scream of a lost soul..."

You snorted. "What?"

"Your beauty is like the moon, that I can never reach, because it is in the sky... far away... and also made of rock." He paused, glancing at you hopefully. “Do you like it so far?”

You bit your lip, desperately trying not to laugh. "Um... It's... something. Keep going."

Malleus beamed. "There’s more!"

"Your hands, soft like the belly of a small woodland creature..." He continued, and you finally lost it, howling with laughter. “Is it not... moving?”

You waved your hands, barely able to breathe through your giggles. "Malleus! Are you... Are you serious?!"

“I thought humans liked dark poetry,” he said, looking genuinely concerned.

“Well, some do, but—” You stopped yourself, trying not to laugh. “No, wait, keep going. I want to hear more.”

Malleus, relieved, continued. “Your beauty is like the full moon—cold, distant, and surrounded by darkness.”

Somewhere behind a nearby tree, Lilia was biting his lip to stop from laughing, while Ace and Deuce shared looks of absolute pity for their friend and Malleus.

Ace shook his head. “Poor guy. He’s trying so hard.”

Scene 3: The... Ambush?

Since the plant-gifting thing didn’t go quite as planned, you decided that maybe a more public display of affection would be the ticket. According to something you half-remembered (and maybe misunderstood), fae really appreciated grand gestures of intent. So, naturally, you chose the school cafeteria at lunchtime as your stage.

As you climbed on top of a table, all eyes turned toward you. Malleus sat at a corner table, watching you with his usual calm, collected demeanor, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Prince Malleus!" you shouted dramatically, lifting your arms in the air. “I declare before all of these witnesses that I shall offer this to you!”

The cafeteria fell into dead silence. Well, except for Lilia, who was quietly choking on his laughter in the background.

Malleus blinked, his expression unreadable. “You... what?”

"Yes! I offer you—" you pulled out the cabbage you’d swiped from the kitchen earlier—"this symbol of my devotion!"

Malleus stared at the cabbage in your hands. "Is that... a vegetable?"

“Yes! It’s a sign of fertility or... something.” You weren’t entirely sure, but it sounded right. “I picked it myself!”

Malleus blinked again, clearly trying to process this information. “I... appreciate the gesture."

Lilia butts in. "Beastie, I’m afraid cabbages aren’t typically used in fae courting rituals.”

You pouted, hopping off the table. “What? But I read that—"

“Perhaps... next time, try flowers?”

Behind you, Ace facepalmed. “Oh, man. They're hopeless.”

Scene 4: The Gift of... Dirt?

Malleus was now absolutely convinced that something was seriously wrong with you. You seemed... more chaotic than usual, and while he enjoyed your enthusiasm, he had no idea why you were suddenly thrusting vegetables at him.

In his effort to reciprocate (and maybe figure out what was going on), he decided to give you a gift of his own. A very special one. From his homeland.

After all, humans liked sentimental gifts, right?

That’s why, one morning, he approached you with a small velvet pouch in his hand, his face filled with sincerity. “Child of Man, I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curious. “What’s that?”

He handed you the pouch, and you opened it, only to find... dirt. Black, slightly glittery dirt.

You stared at it. Then at him. Then back at the dirt. “Is this... dirt?”

“Yes,” Malleus said proudly. “From Briar Valley. It’s a very special soil, infused with the magic of my homeland.”

You blinked. “You got me dirt.”

“Very magical dirt,” he corrected, as if that made it better.

You bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Um... thanks?”

Ace, watching from a distance, nudged Deuce. “Man, They're gonna end up with a garden at this rate.”

Scene 5: The Unnecessary Duel

Clearly, you had been doing something wrong, because your attempts at fae courtship had been met with nothing but polite confusion. But you were nothing if not determined. The next step in your (completely misguided) strategy? Prove your strength in battle. Duh.

You marched up to Malleus one afternoon, sword in hand, and pointed it at his chest. "Malleus Draconia! I challenge you to a duel!"

Malleus blinked at you, clearly baffled. “A duel? With... me?”

“Yes!” you declared, brandishing the sword with a flourish. “I shall prove myself worthy of your admiration through combat!”

Malleus tilted his head. “You... wish to fight me?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! To the death! Or until someone taps out. Whatever works.”

Malleus looked utterly bewildered but amused. “I... see. But are you sure this is necessary?”

"Absolutely. I need to show you my strength." You tried to strike a dramatic pose, but the sword was way heavier than it looked.

Lilia, perched nearby, was barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this is too good.”

Malleus raised his hand. “Perhaps another time. I would not want to harm you.”

You frowned. “Harm me? Pfft. I’m tougher than I look, dragon boy.”

Scene 6: The Romantic Walk—Through a Thunderstorm

Malleus had one last idea. Humans, he’d read, liked romantic walks. That was simple, right? No vegetables. No poetry. Just a quiet stroll. What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, he decided to take you for a walk through the forest on a day when the sky decided to unleash the full wrath of a thunderstorm. And because he was a fae, storms didn’t bother him.

You, on the other hand, were not a fan of being drenched to the bone.

The rain came down in sheets, lightning crackling overhead as you both trudged through the mud. You tried to keep your umbrella steady, but the wind whipped it inside out almost immediately.

“Malleus,” you called over the storm, shouting to be heard. “Why are we walking in this? Are you trying to drown me?”

Malleus, entirely unfazed by the downpour, turned to you, his face serious. “I thought a walk through nature would be a calming experience for you.”

You stared at him, your hair sticking to your face, clothes soaked through, and boots filled with mud. “Calming?! I’m about to be struck by lightning!”

He blinked, as if only now realizing the storm might be an issue for you. “Ah, I see. Humans are... more susceptible to storms. My apologies.”

“Ya think?” You huffed, clutching your now-ruined umbrella. “A ‘romantic stroll’ usually involves good weather.”

Malleus frowned, looking genuinely troubled. “I thought the power of the storm would inspire awe.”

“Yeah, it’s inspiring me to run back inside.” You sighed, shivering. “This is... sweet, I guess. But, uh, maybe next time we check the weather before planning any ‘romantic’ activities?”

As you struggled to wipe rain from your face, you caught a glimpse of Lilia again—he was standing under a tree, dry as could be, watching the scene unfold with glee. His mischievous grin practically radiated from the shadows.

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” you shouted toward him, but Lilia just waved, clearly loving the chaos.

Malleus, still deep in thought about his failed attempt at human courtship, suddenly looked serious. “Perhaps a different form of human bonding is needed next time.”

Behind you, Ace and Deuce were trailing a safe distance away, both dripping wet but trying to keep from laughing too loudly.

“Man,” Ace muttered, shaking his head. “They're gonna give the poor guy a heart attack one day.”

Deuce nodded solemnly. “Or he’ll get us all killed.”

After days of mutual confusion and failed courtship rituals, you found yourself, once again, sitting with Malleus in one of the school’s many quiet courtyards.

“Y’know,” you began, squinting at him. “I feel like you’ve been acting weird lately.”

Malleus gave you a similar look. “I’ve been thinking the same about you.”

You blinked. “Wait, me? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Malleus said, his brow furrowed, “you’ve been offering me... odd gifts. Vegetables. Challenging me to duels. Declaring intentions in public spaces. It’s... unusual.”

You froze. “That’s... fae courtship. I’ve been trying to... y’know...”

Malleus’ eyes widened. “You’ve been attempting to court me?”

Your face flushed. “Well, yeah! I thought you were acting strange, so I figured you were waiting for someone to, I don’t know, woo you.”

Malleus’ confusion quickly shifted to amusement. “I’ve been trying to court you this whole time.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re what?!”

“I believed you were in distress, so I attempted human courting rituals. Clearly, they didn’t go as planned.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment, the realization of mutual failure sinking in. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, and Malleus, after a moment, chuckled too.

“Well,” you managed between laughs, “we really suck at this.”

“Indeed,” Malleus agreed, his eyes warm with amusement. “Perhaps next time, we should... communicate better.”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “That might help.”

From a safe distance, Lilia watched, his face beaming with pride. “Ah, young love,” he sighed dramatically. “How wonderfully chaotic.”

Ace shook his head, utterly done with the entire situation. “They’re hopeless.”

Deuce nodded in agreement. “At least it’s finally over... right?”

They're so stupid (affectionate)

Masterlist

[gaynaturalistghost]

What if the Ascomycete elder god was just a lil’ lichen guy. A littol boy. What if I misidentified the lichen I collected and based his hat on so how’s it’s just a vague *parmelia*. Which is ok. It’s fine. I misidentified it bc the inside was the color of a cheeto.

Anyway his horns are *Cladonia sp.* and the ones around his face are *Niebla sp.*

[novaursa]

Fire's Legacy

- Summary: A few moons after he came for you, Maegor finally took you as his under eyes of the Old Gods of Valyria. And it didn't take long for you to find yourself with his child. Now it's the time to bring that innocent life into the world of fire and blood, and all you can do is pray it lives.

- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: This short story follows the events of Fire and Blood.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: bloodline

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: Unplanned post.

The day began like any other in the Red Keep, the sun casting a dull haze over the court. You could feel the weight of your pregnancy pressing against your body, every step a reminder of the life you carried within you. The maesters had said it would still be weeks, but something inside told you otherwise. You sensed it in the way your belly tightened, the sharp twinges that had begun early in the morning.

It was Maegor’s presence that both comforted and unnerved you. He had been a dark storm ever since you were taken as his wife, fierce and relentless in his possession of you. His touch was often rough, claiming, but there were moments, brief as they were, where you saw something softer flicker in his eyes. But softness had no place in Maegor's world, not now, not when he held the Iron Throne in a grasp as unyielding as dragonsteel.

He was seated on the dais, the Blackfyre sword at his side, when the pains became unbearable. You could not stop the gasp that tore from your throat, sharp and urgent. Maegor’s head snapped toward you immediately, the room around you falling into a hush. His dark eyes narrowed in on you, assessing, as you pressed a hand to your belly.

“It is time,” you whispered, breathless, and the realization hit you both at once.

The maesters scrambled to their feet, rushing to assist you, but Maegor rose faster, his steps heavy and purposeful as he closed the distance between you. He dismissed the maesters with a growl, sweeping you into his arms. His grip was fierce, but there was an underlying protectiveness you had rarely seen in him before.

“Visenya,” Maegor barked, his voice carrying through the hall.

The queen dowager appeared as if summoned by the very gods themselves, her face calm but her eyes sharp. She had always been an imposing figure, her silent strength a constant presence in Maegor’s life. She regarded you with a knowing look as Maegor carried you toward your chambers, her hands deftly organizing the chaos around her.

Once inside the room, Maegor set you down carefully, though his hands lingered on your arms, his gaze intense. He didn’t say a word, but you could feel the command in his posture. You would survive this, for him, for the child you carried.

Visenya took charge with an efficiency that belied her age, directing the midwives and maesters with curt nods and gestures. Maegor, however, refused to leave your side. His hand found yours, gripping tightly as the labor began in earnest. He watched with a burning intensity as each contraction wracked your body, his jaw set as though he could command the pain to cease by sheer will alone.

Hours passed, the agony becoming nearly unbearable, but you could feel the moment drawing closer. Maegor's face never wavered, though you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes darkened with each scream that left your lips.

Then, suddenly, it happened. The first babe emerged, a healthy, wailing boy. The midwife handed the squirming child to Maegor, and for a moment, he simply stared, his face a mixture of disbelief and pride. His firstborn son.

“Your heir,” Visenya whispered, a rare softness in her voice as she looked upon the boy.

But before the moment could settle, another wave of pain crashed through you. The midwives rushed back into position, their hands working swiftly, and then, just as swiftly as the first, a second child came forth—a girl, strong and full of life.

“Twins,” one of the maesters muttered, astonished.

Maegor was silent, but the weight of the moment pressed down on the room. He held his son in one arm and, when the midwives offered, took his daughter in the other. His face, hard as stone and as fierce as the dragon he was, betrayed nothing at first. Then, slowly, a rare, dangerous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Two,” he said, his voice low, reverberating with something primal. “Two strong babes.”

Visenya’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she looked between you and the twins. “It seems the gods favor you after all, Maegor,” she remarked, though there was a glint in her eye that spoke of more than just familial pride. She approached, inspecting the babes as if they were her own creations, her approval unspoken but seen.

You, exhausted beyond measure, watched through bleary eyes as Maegor gazed upon his children, the weight of what had happened finally settling over him. He turned his attention to you, his expression unreadable, but there was something new in his gaze—a fierce possessiveness, yes, but also a deeper, quieter pride.

“You have given me a dynasty,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear. “You will be remembered as the mother of dragons.”

And in that moment, you knew—whatever fears you had before, whatever doubts—Maegor had truly claimed you, not just as his wife, but as the mother of his legacy. The realm might tremble under his rule, but here, in this room, Maegor Targaryen had found something he valued even more than power.

His family.

[restinslices]

Believe Me

Gwayne Hightower X Female!Reader

Word Count: 2792

Summary: Gwayne bumps into an old flame and smut ensues (from his pov)

Content Warning: Smut (so minors dni), fingering, handjob, cheating, light hair pulling, light degrading and praising, vaginal sex, public sex (I hate this but we move on😭)

Gwayne Hightower was only human, and as a show of this, he had made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime. “It is not worth the stress to beat yourself over what could have been” he'd always remind himself. “What could've been if you chose the right card, woke up earlier, listened more, aimed a little to the left, ate breakfast…”. 

The list went on and on because humans make mistakes all the time. He had vowed to himself that he would never stress over these mistakes. What good would it do? The mistake was already made. 

That's the thought process he tried to keep as he made his way inside the Sept. He was not afraid of the gods deciding to punish him for the sins he was sure he had committed, or of the building crumbling down and burying him underneath. The current war going on wasn't even on his mind. 

What was on his mind was a singular person. And as he got closer and closer to the room he knew they'd be in, the thick fog covering their face in his memories started to move to the side. 

Further. 

Further. 

His steps began to falter when he finally saw them. When he finally saw you. 

You were sitting on the bench, back to him, candles aplenty in front of you. Just as he thought about turning around and leaving, you took off your cloak and set it next to you, revealing the open back to your dress. 

You were inviting him. Discarding your defenses and showing that you were open to being around him again. Or mayhaps he was delusional. Either way, he found himself sitting on the other side of you soon enough. 

“Is that really a dress appropriate for the Sept?” he tried to joke with you as he lit a candle. If it was a different time, you would've lightly shoved him and said something like “oh fuck off” while laughing. Unfortunately, that time had been long forgotten. 

You looked over at him at once, and he wondered if for a moment you thought all this was a dream. You looked him up and down, and must've realized this was all real. “Gwayne…” how could you say his name in such a delightful way? 

The surprise from your eyes soon fell, and instead it filled with resentment. “Gwayne” you said more lifeless. “Anyone is welcome here. A common whore could come, wearing hardly any clothes and she'd be welcomed”. 

“I'm sure common whores do lots of cumming”. 

You simply rolled your eyes at him and looked in front of you. “A jest, dear friend-”

“We are not friends”. 

He had known it, but fuck did it hurt to hear. It was said so coldly and cruel, like you wanted it to sting. It definitely had, though he wouldn't show it. 

“We have not talked in some time” he said with his eyes still trained on you. How could you sit there and be so beautiful? Even with a scowl and pinched eyebrows, you looked marvelous. “When I heard my sister had summoned you here as well, I admit I was a bit surprised”. 

“Why? Alicent is in need of a friend. And I am her friend”. 

Well you really knew how to rub something in, didn't you? “I tried writing to you-”

“Years too late” 

You snapped, eyes glancing over at him. Okay, mayhaps you were right. Mayhaps he should've wrote to you sooner, but he eventually did! That had to be worth something! “Why are you here?”. 

“I thought anyone was allowed here”

“It is the gods you should be speaking to. Not I”

“It is not the gods I crave” he spoke honestly. You simply scoffed in return and looked away again, causing him to sigh. “I should have wrote to you sooner, but I did eventually. And I am here now-”

“To do your knightly duties” you said dismissively. “Not to speak with me”. 

“I can do both!” his hand found your arm and he pulled you close to him, making your legs press against each other. He could hear how your breath hitched. He could see the way your chest rose and fell as a reaction to his touch. 

His fingers inched closer to your chest. “What are you-” you began to say, but the words got caught in your throat when he wrapped his fingers around the long necklace that fell in the long V neck of your dress, right in between your breasts. 

“You've kept this?”. 

Years ago, Gwayne gifted you a necklace with a large green pendant, and while the chain was completely different, the pendant was still the same. “Did the chain break?”. 

You shook your head. “No. My husband gave me a new chain. Said gold fit better”. 

He frowned. 

Your husband. Some boring guy with brown hair, brown eyes, patches in his beard and a voice that was far too high for a man. He had no real talents or skill, besides money and luck. That's how he landed you after all. 

“It is best for both of us that you do your praying and then leave. I imagine I will not be ready to leave anytime soon”. 

The moment his hand fell from your arm, he felt cold. He forced himself to look away from you and focus on the candle in front of him. So what was he to do now? Just let you go? Go off to war and accept that he'd likely never see you again? Accept you'd hate him forever?

“No” he answered himself out loud. “No. I am to just accept that your husband messed with a gift I gave you?”. 

“I beg your pardon?” You asked in disbelief. “That is what you are focusing on? That your gift was ruined?” You scoffed again and rubbed your temples. “Selfish as always. Nevermind to ask how I feel or how I have been. No. It is just stupid jokes and being offended. Did my gift put a dent in your pocket? Here then!”. You unclipped the necklace, grabbed his hand and shoved the necklace on his palm. “Take it!”. 

His chuckle afterwards was filled with bitterness. Here he was, trying to patch things up, and you kept making it difficult. “This resentment you hold towards me is ridiculous. I took too long to write to you after your marriage, but I'm here now. And this-” he set the necklace on the table. “This is a gift I gave to you”. 

“My husband gives me plenty of gifts. I do not need anything from you”. 

As if his gifts were anything special. Probably cheap and terrible material. You deserved more than that. You deserved more than some husband that probably couldn't even make you laugh the way Gwayne had. 

“Husband this. Husband that. Does shoving him in my face excite you?”. Maybe he had no right to be angry, but he was anyway. 

“I wouldn't be able to if you vied for my hand when you had the chance!” You snapped. For once, Gwayne had no response. No witty comeback or complaint. He just watched you as you realized what you said. You huffed, grabbed your cloak and got to your feet. “Good day Gwayne”. 

You managed to make it a few feet away before he finally spoke. “I should have”. Regret had gnawed at him for years now. He let you slip away. Why? Because he wasn't sure he could be committed. Did he love you? Yes. Was he a young man that wasn't fond of becoming a husband and a father? Also yes. 

“You have to understand,” he began as he rose to his feet. “Marriage was not something I wanted at the time”. 

“And you think I did?” You asked in disbelief. “Marriage was not something I wanted either. It was forced upon me. Marriage terrified me, but I knew that if I was married to you, marriage wouldn't be that bad. You were my best friend and lover. And what did you do, Gwayne?”. He couldn't make the answer leave his lips. The words felt like they were stuck in his throat and refused to go anywhere. “You left me” you answered for him. “And once I was married, you avoided me. Then years later you decided you wanted to speak again. What were you too busy doing? Drinking and fucking whores?”. 

That made him laugh. Drinking? Maybe a little. Fucking whores? It's not like he truly wanted to. It made time pass and got an orgasm out the way, but he didn't want painted whores. He wanted you to be under him. He wanted to feel your soft skin on his fingers. He wanted to hear his name pass your sweet lips over and over again until that was all he heard. 

“I made mistakes-”

“Mistakes?!”

“I made terrible choices” he corrected. “Awful ones. But you and I both know that I have always wanted and will always want you”. Those words seem to catch you off guard, which he assumed because you didn't push him away when his hands found their way to your hips. 

His face inched closer and closer to yours until your lips just barely brushed against each other. Unbeknownst to the both of you, your hearts beat as one in that moment. Both hearts erratic but somehow managing to be erratic together. 

“I want you desperately. And I know you want me…”. 

The remaining bit of space was broken and your lips finally met. Your lips responded to each other immediately and your arms wrapped around his neck. Finally… after so long you both were able to taste each other again. 

Reality came crashing down faster than he wanted it to. 

You shoved him away, making him stumble. You breathed heavily and wiped at your lips. “Won't change what happened” he said to your displeasure. 

“You are selfish” you spoke through gritted teeth. “You are an asshole” you shoved him again. “And a liar” another shove. 

Each insult you gave was followed by shove, and instead of feeling insulted, he felt something else. 

Desire. 

That desire is what led to him grabbing you, switching your positions and pushing you onto the table where no candles were. 

Your expression was full of shock, but not disgust or fear. Good. He never wanted to frighten you. What frightened him a little bit though, was his growing erection. Something that made no sense since all you had done recently was insult him. Gods, he was way more desperate than he realized. 

“Get all your insults out” he said as his thumb traced your lower lip, “tell me how much you hate me”. 

A request you had no problem fulfilling. 

“You are a vile man. Seducing a married woman in a Sept. Is there a line you're not willing to cross?”. 

There it was. Just like that. 

He began leaving open mouth kisses down your neck, eagerly awaiting what you'd say next. 

“You are a defiler full of sin”

“I am, aren't I?”. He held you in place as he bit and sucked at a particular spot on your neck, and a small smirk formed on his face when he heard you moan in response. “It seems you enjoy my sins” he taunted. 

“I hate you. No. I despise you. Even that word can't describe how I feel for you”. 

Gwayne untied your dress strap and unbuttoned the buttons in the front, allowing him to free your breasts. 

“I loathe you”. 

“I'm sure” his words dripped in sarcasm. Loathe him yet you allow him to undress you. Loathe him, yet you allowed him to fondle your breasts, then lick and suck at one of your nipples. That's how your little game continued. You'd throw insults at him in between your gasps, and he'd lick and suck harder at each breast, showing them both proper attention. His erection pressed against his trousers, it becoming almost painful. 

You lifted your leg up in response to him twisting your nipple, and your knee brushed right against his erection. He moaned around your breast before he even realized what had happened. His own eagerness being exposed only dawned on him when he felt your palm fully press against him. 

Your other hand pulled his head back by his hair, causing a sharp but welcomed pain to burn at his roots. “I always knew you were pathetic Gwayne, but this?”, a soft breath slipped past his lips when you pressed harder against him. “You like when I insult you?”. He nodded. No point in lying. Still though, he didn't just wanna hand you all the power in your game. 

He hiked the bottom of your dress up and kept eye contact with you as his fingers pushed your undergarments to the side and made contact with your soaked cunt for the first time tonight. He watched you try to keep a stone face, but you couldn't hide the sharp inhale you did. “Seems like you've enjoyed our little game too. What does that say about you?”. 

“What does it say about you that you like being called pathetic?”. 

Gwayne chuckled. He looked you over, watching as you tried not to react to his fingers sliding in between your folds. “You're marvelous…” he said almost as if in a dream. 

You yanked on his hair again and pushed his trousers down, freeing his erection. “Is this when I say you're disgusting?” You taunted. Your hand wrapped around him and shamefully he almost came from that minor touch alone. 

“If it pleases you”. 

His middle and ring finger slowly but surely made their way inside you, all while he whispered praises in your ear. 

“You're so pretty like this”

“You're taking my fingers so well”

“Open up for me. Just like that. Good girl”. 

Your head fell on his shoulder and his fell on yours. The Sept filled with both of your noises as you both continued to pleasure each other with your hands. It was clear that that wouldn't be enough. The question was just who would bend first. 

“I've got you” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss under your ear. You lifted your head off his shoulder to meet his eyes, and while there was still lust behind them, there was clearly something more. 

Longing. 

“Do you really?” You asked. 

He answered at once, “yes. I swear to you on all the gods in every religion that I'm never leaving you again”. 

You swiped at his hands and pulled him closer to you until his tip was lined up with your entrance. “And what about my husband?”. 

Damn your husband. He'd cause an “accident” to happen if he had to. He wouldn't let a man like him keep him away from the one person who truly wanted in this whole world. “I will deal with your husband and I swear you will never be able to get rid of me. Do you believe me?”. 

He asked his question as he began to push inside you. Your answer got stuck in your throat, so instead you nodded in response. Your nod wasn't enough for him, but he'd address that later. For now, he kept whispering encouraging words to you to soothe the stretching he knew you'd feel. He kept telling you that he had you, that you were okay, that you were safe with him and always would be. 

When you finally seemed adjusted, he spoke again. “Do you believe me?”. You nodded. “Out loud”. 

“I believe you”. 

That was all he needed hear. Once he got confirmation, his lips found yours and he moved inside you. Was this an all around terrible idea? Absolutely. Was there a chance of getting caught? Yes. But neither of you could care less about that. How could that possibly be at the forefront of your minds when you were finally feeling each other in the way you both craved?

You both enjoyed each other, ultimately hitting your peaks while you were still connected, mouths swallowing each sound the other made, and foreheads pressed against each other so you could catch your breath. 

His hands cupped your face and he pressed a softer kiss to your lips. Of course there was still that sexual desire there, but he wanted more than to just fuck and be rid of you. He wanted to hold you forever. He wanted to tell you about his tales of knighthood over dinner, and hold your hand as you went on walks in the garden. 

“I swear-”

“I believe you”. 

You believed him. That was all he needed. 

For you to believe him and for you to give him another chance.

Bitch I hate this shit but I haven’t posted in awhile soooooo here we are😭😭. Also the way I forgot about that necklace-

[gguk-n]

Renewed Passion (Lewis Hamilton x Reader)

Summary- What happens when you meet your right person, wrong time after 18 years of actively avoiding him? Will the love that stayed dormant bloom in full spring or stay dormant? Will you give your heart a chance or will you listen to your brain?

I wanted to make this as cohesive as possible. Sorry if it's not. Google translated Italian. Kinda fucking long lmao. Implied smut.

Part 2

mio dolce bambino- my sweet child

Amore- Love

Il moroso- Sweetheart

[Reader's POV]

I opened the door to my neighbours house and walked right into the kitchen. Manuela was making pasta. It was our traditional bi-annual movie night with the Antonelli's. Our families have been neighbours and friends for generations. Me and Manuela had grown closer after she married Marco, so close in fact, that she made me Andrea's god mother when he was born.

Speak of the devil, Andrea walked into the kitchen and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. Andrea was on track to becoming a F1 driver. He had the passion and drive in him. I've watched him race a couple times. But I try to keep my distance from race tracks. "I missed you, zia" Kimi exclaimed. I smiled at him patting his back, "aww, I missed you too" "I wouldn't have, if you came to the race." he pouted. "Everyone had come. It was literally the home race and you didn't" he sulked. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I just had a lot of work" I reasoned while giving him a hug. The real reason I didn't go to the race wasn't work and it made me feel like a shitty aunt for not being there for this kid, I considered my own.

"Toto and the Mercedes team met me, again." Kimi announced. I looked at him quizzically. "If you had been present in your nephew's life, you would know." he chided. I apologised and asked him to elaborate. "Well, Toto needs another driver on the grid for Mercedes." he said. "Oh, does Lewis need a new teammate." I asked. "For someone who's nephew is a F2 driver, you know nothing about the sport." he declared. "You know I don't enjoy sports." I reasoned. Actually I stopped watching F1 after 2007. "Actually, Lewis is moving to Ferrari next year, so Toto needs another driver next year with Russel." I was shocked. "Zia, are you listening?" Kimi asked. "Oh, yeah, sorry." I apologised. "You have to come to the Monaco race." he demanded. "You know I'm so busy and I don't even get the race, it'll be so annoying for you." I tried to convince him. He was having none of that. Sadly, I was emotionally black mailed into attending the race in Monaco.

The race weekend was in full swing, Manuela was busy and couldn't make it, so I had to be present for the whole weekend with Marco. Formula one were honouring Ayrton Senna. I was forced by Kimi on to the paddock. With my luck, I almost immediately ran into Sebastian as Kimi left me alone to greet his friends. "Y/N?" Sebastian squinted at me. I smiled and walked towards him, raising my hand with a smile, "Yeah, that's me, Sebastian." I said. He shook my hand. "It's been so long, when did I last see you?" he asked, getting lost in thought. "Macau Grand Prix, 2005" I said. His eyes widened. "I'm surprised, you even recognised me." I laughed. "I don't think I can forget, you and Lewis were insufferable. Both of you made sure we felt lonely." he reminisced. I faked a laugh, "Yeah, that was so long ago. How've you been?" I asked trying to change the topic. "I've been good. I retired." he said. "I heard. That was a good run." I nodded along to my words. "What brings you here?" he quizzed. "My god-son is a F2 racer. He dragged me here." I replied. "Really?? Who is it? Do I know him?" he questioned. "I'm not sure if you do, but Kimi Antonelli is my god-son." I explained. "The 17 year old Toto is after." he chuckled. "It was nice meeting you. See you around Y/N" Sebastian said while leaving after being summoned.

I walked around the paddock. This was my first time in Monaco. I had been able to avoid most of Kimi's races when he was younger since he would believe whatever I said. As he grew older, it kept getting even more difficult since he is quite persistent and tenacious when he wants something; traits you want in a racer not your nephew.

I enjoyed the cool wind blowing through the paddock until I heard Kimi, "Zia" he shouted out to me. I turned around to see Kimi running towards me, "I want you to meet someone." he said dragging me to where he came from. We stopped in front of the man I spent the past 18 years avoiding. "Zia, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis this is my god-mother, Y/N Y/L/N." he introduced us. Lewis was always and will always be the love of my life. I kept up with the sport enough to know what he did. Eventually, I stopped obsessing over it. He slowly faded into my memories. He was the reason I never paid any attention to F1. I avoided it as much as possible. He was my right person, wrong place. I never truly moved on from him, I mulled over my thoughts as I was snapped out of them to quickly raise my hand towards him. He shook my hand. It was still slightly rough from all the years of driving; tears pricked my eyes.

Kimi couldn't stop gushing about me to Lewis. His eyes seemed so familiar yet so unknown. The years had treated him well, having won the World Driver's Championship 7 times and ageing like fine wine; I thought. I had lost track of what the conversation in front of me was until Kimi excused himself and asked me to keep Lewis company till he returned. My mouth hung open to protest as Kimi walked away. "You'll catch a fly, darling." Lewis said while using his index finger to close my mouth. I moved back from the sudden touch. "Do you still hate me?" he asked with a pained expression. I could never hate you Lewis, those words remained in my throat. "No" I mumbled. "That's a relief. I hope you only remember the good times." he stated hopefully. I just smiled at him. "I should get going" I announced, turning around until I felt a hand wrapped around my wrists, "Aren't you supposed to be in the Mercedes hospitality" he asked softly. I hated it when he was right. I turned around with a forced smile; "It's my first time in Monaco, I gonna walk around for a bit." I said pulling my hand away from him. "Then I can walk with you, since I've been living here for years" he exclaimed. "If I wanted to walk around with my ex, I would've said so." I stated firmly; walking away swiftly. This was going to be a long weekend.

After walking around for a while and tiring myself out, I met up with Marco who was in deep conversation with Toto. Both of them greeted me and Marco introduced me to Toto. I was a casual spectator in on their conversation when Lewis joined in. Marco knew of the history me and Lewis shared, he would be on the receiving end of my pining. They must've ran into each other at some point; did he never mention me? or Ask about me to Lewis; I wondered. "You look bored" broke me out of my thought, Lewis's lips extremely close to my ear. I shifted to the side, almost falling from losing my balance.I braced my self for the impact that never came, strong arms enveloped me, pulling me close. Time slowed as I found myself locked in gaze with my saviour. I could feel his breath against my face; a sense of warmth spread though my stomach. "You okay" he murmured softly. It was like time had stopped. My eyes slowly darted to the two other men in front of; I quickly pushed Lewis away and straightened myself. "I'm fine. Thank you for catching me. I'm gonna go get some water" I rambled, excusing myself to the refreshments. I almost sprinted to the table, grabbing a bottle; when Lewis took it from me and handed me back an opened bottle. "Still as clumsy as I remember" Lewis chuckled. I gulped the water down. This was not how I imagined ever running into my ex. Let's hope the weekend ends without any more trouble.

I was ready to leave mid-way through the day, but Kimi had a tight hold on my arm as he took me along to introduce me to his friends. I had brought some cookies and treats as a present for the other boys. They all seemed quite well mannered, I must say, for a bunch of teenager. Even when me and Lewis dated, it was like we had magnets attached to us, we'd always be gravitating towards each other. My eyes met Lewis's for a split second before I brought my attention back to Oliver Bearmen, a good friend of Kimi's.

Flashback

"Come on, Y/N. I don't wanna go alone." Mia, my roommate moaned. "Then don't go" I chided. The look of shock on her face was priceless. "Those tickets were fucking expensive and you said you'd do anything for me." she pleaded. "yeah, anything means anything around the house. You know I don't even like racing, it's so" I stopped looking for a better word but none came to mind "boring" I continued. "You did not just say that" she replied in disbelief. That's how I ended up at a Formula Renault UK race in Silverstone in 2003.

Mia had gotten us good seats, I decided to find some snacks to entertain me during the race so I excused myself to the stands to grab something. On the way there, I ran into a man. I braced myself for the fall instead two arms wrapped themselves around my waist steading me and pulling me closer. I opened my eyes to be face to face with a pair of chocolate brown eyes. My heart lurched into my chest. "You okay" he asked. "I'm fine" I replied still in his arms. "As much as I would love to have you in my arms, I have some where to be" he stated. Embarrassed, I fixed myself up. "Thank you..." I looked at him expectantly to say his name. "Lewis, Lewis Hamilton" he replied extending his arm out. "Thank you, Lewis. Y/N" I said while shaking his hand. "You're here for the race, right?" he asked. "Sadly, yes" I responded. A playful smile played across lips at the answer, "well then, let's meet after it's done?" he asked hopefully. "Sure, at least I have something to look forward too" I smiled. "I'll try to make the race eventful" he called out as he ran away.

I didn't know the guy I ran into was a racer. Only found that out when he won the race and was called on the podium. I decided to return to the same place we had the collision, in hopes of running into him again. I waited around until I heard someone call out my name; there stood a very sweaty and wreaked of champaign Lewis. "Congratulations" I commented. "Thank you" he replied. "Didn't take you for a racer" I cocked my eyebrow at him. "Did you like the race?" he asked with a cocky grin on his face. "Not really" I chuckled. "Well I can make it up to you, if you would like me to" he questioned. "And how would you do that?" I asked. "Go on a date with me" he asked with the softest and brightest eyes. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr Hamilton" I replied. I acted like I was thinking before I agreed to go out with him.

Present time

"Earth to zia, you there?" Kimi asked. "Yeah, what were you boys saying, again?" I asked. "Do you have a crush on Lewis?" he whispered in my ear. "What?" I almost screamed. "You've been staring at him the whole time we were talking" he pointed out. Fuck, that's gonna be so embarrassing for me. "You know, he is single and your age. Do you want me to ask him for you?" he wiggled his eyebrows at me. "No no, I just got lost in thought." God, this is going to be tough. "Zia, look he's coming here. Act natural." Before I could comprehend what he meant, I was being greeted by Lewis for the third time today. Can this day end already? "You still find races boring?" he whispered in my ear. I pushed him away, Kimi was staring. "Yes, I hate races" I stated boldly. "Maybe I can change your mind." he teased. "No, thank you. If you will excuse me. Bambino" I tapped Kimi's shoulder, "I'm gonna go get something to eat. Would you like anything?" He said he didn't want anything so I left to get some food.

The day ended with me thankfully no longer running into Lewis anymore. But I did enjoy watching Kimi during free practise. He finished P8 and I consoled him by saying that they were just figuring stuff out and how everything worked. He seemed to cheer up and we ended up having dinner at a restaurant near by. The city was lit up with the hustle and bustle of the race. I saw a couple more racers and people asking for their autograph. I teased Kimi about forgetting me when he's a formula one driver and being too rich and famous for me. He looked appalled at the suggestion. The night came to a close with us back in our rooms and back in bed but sleep wasn't going to come to me this easy.

Flashback

Lewis was finally back from the races. Following him around was proving itself to be quite challenging while being a full time uni student. I decided to make the most of the little time we had together by dragging him around to an arcade, to the mall and lastly my couch so that we could watch Finding Nemo. Lewis was willing to entertain all my childish demands, I realised. We were cuddled up together, our legs intertwined, one of Lewis's hand was under my head and the other rubbing my hand. "You're distracting me, Amore" I muttered. "Pay attention to me them" he pouted. I turned my head around and pecked his lips, slowly turning my body around to face him. I cupped his cheeks; "I missed you" I mumbled against his lips, kissing him again. He pulled me closer by my waist, deepening the kiss. "I missed you too" he whispered against my neck as he left open mouth kisses down to my chest. His hand squeezed my ass, while his lips started suck on one spot. He pushed me against the sofa and took his shirt off in one swift motion.

Present Time

Okay, I need to stop thinking about Lewis, especially naked Lewis. This isn't helping my situation at all. Why am I acting like a teenager? This was starting to get humiliating for me.

After a troubled sleep, morning seem to come very late. I was pulled out of bed by Kimi who was very annoyed that I was still in bed. I quickly got dressed and met Kimi back at the paddock. I spent the whole day following Marco around like a lost puppy. I didn't even see Lewis the whole day. I guess the schedules don't match for F1 and F2. Part of me hoped to see him. I found myself searching the paddock for him. At the end of day I returned back to the hotel heartbroken.

Sunday was my last day in Monaco, Kimi did okay at the sprint. I congratulated him none the less. We decided to go out for dinner and it would be my treat. "I just wanted to do well, for you" Kimi sulked. "You did well, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you. You've come so far, mio dolce bambino" I said giving him a hug and pat on his back. I told him to rest and then we'll head out for dinner. I was looking for Marco to confirm the plan with him, when I saw Lewis, who looked visibly annoyed. "Hey" I waved at him. I saw him visibly relax and wave back at me. I found myself walking towards him, "Everything okay?" I asked. "Yeah, it's nothing. Just team issues" he huffed. "Sorry about that. I hope you can resolve it" I reassured. "Is this why you're moving to Ferrari, next year?" I questioned. "You know" he looked shocked. I laughed, "Kind of hard to miss, when Toto is actively pursuing my god-son." I chucked. "One of the reasons" he added. "Well, I hope you find success" I smiled at him. "Can I hug you?" he asked hopefully. I nodded and opened my arms for him, he found himself wrapping his arms around my waist. The sensation was so familiar, it didn't feel like we were hugging after 18 years. I started rubbing his back, whispering reassurances.

"How long are you here for?" he asked while pulling away from the hug. "I'll leave tomorrow morning." I replied. "You live in Italy?" he queried. I nodded. "Stay, for a few more days. I just, I've missed you" he announced. I bit my lip, "Do you remember why we broke up?" Lewis seemed to think for a moment.

Flashback

"Il moroso" I croaked, my voice hoarse from the screaming match we were having. "No, Y/N I don't get it. Why is it so hard for you to be there for me? It's the least I can ask for?" Lewis yelled. We had been going back and forth, I was in my third year of university and going to all his races while trying to pass the semester and doing an internship was proving to be difficult. It had put a strain on our relationship. He was only in the junior championships and required travelling a lot, I couldn't imagine how much he would be travelling once he was a formula one driver. I hadn't been to a race in a couple months and it was not something I was able to do as often as Lewis wished with the time and financial constraint. In all of this Lewis had seemed to forget that I had a life of my own that I was trying to build while in a foreign country trying to pursue my bachelors.

"Love, you know I can't make it to all the races" I reasoned. "Well, the others can. Some how you're the only one who is so fucking busy" he emphasised. I let out a sigh trying to calm myself down. "I really wanna be there for you Lew, but it's just not possible right now. I landed the best interning job for my degree. It'll help me with my future" I justified. "Your job is more important than me" he probed. I could feel the tears ready to fall, "No, it's not. But you're acting like yours is" I explained. He let out a strained laugh, "Just say it, you don't care about me" "You're putting words in my mouth" I argued. "There are no words to be put, when that's how you feel" he taunted. I ran a hand through my hair, almost pulling at my scalp; "Damn it, Lewis, I fucking love you and I want to be there for you. But you are behaving like a child" I called out. "If I am such a child, then break up with me" he snarled. We had fought before but never like this. We never even joked about breaking up. "I just want to support you and watch you succeed. But that doesn't mean I'll get to do that beside you at all time, I have a life of my own too, you know" I tried to reason with him. "I will succeed, whether I have you around or not. I can't be with someone who can't prioritise me" he said. I faked a laugh, "Ha, says the guy who can't see past his stupid cars, you know what Lewis, I hope you succeed, I truly do. But I also hope you miss me and yearn for the woman that supported you through so much every time you succeed." I declared. "Now, leave my fucking house. We're through" I shouted while pushing him out before my tears started to fall.

I spent the next few days crying, moping around, eating a shit ton of ice cream and having Marco console me. That man really heard me pine and crib for months. The only time I was truly happy during those sad months was Andrea's birth and being asked to be his god-mother. I took those duties very seriously. That kid helped me move on from my first adult relationship and heart break.

Present Day

I've dated multiple men after Lewis, but no one stuck. I never even settled down because deep down my heart was still stuck on him. I kept up with Lewis's life until I graduated and slowly lost the time to keep up with formula one. When I heard he had won his first world championship, I was in London, working at my 9-5 when my colleague ran to me to announce that a Brit was the latest world champion. I saw his face plastered on the news and felt some sort of relief, watching him succeed like he said he would. I had almost forgotten about it all, until Kimi joined the Mercedes drivers academy. I had kept my space from all his races after he transitioned to single seat racing.

"You know what you said, the day we broke up, came true" he uttered. I gazed inquisitively. "About me succeeding, but missing you" he stated. I looked at him in disbelief for a moment, before the words came back to me, I placed a hand on my chest in shock, "I didn't mean" I said before I was cut off by "I know you didn't. But I did miss you a lot whenever I won a race or for that matter my championships." he smiled at me, reminiscing all those moments. I smiled at him sadly. "I'm sorry for ruining your wins" I mumbled. "You didn't ruin them. But" he said with a glimmer in his eyes, "there's a way you can make it up to me" I peered at him with uncertainty. "Go on a date with me" he said. "Lewis" I responded. "Y/N" he replied. "You remember why we broke up, I still have a job that I love and my life has really worked out in my favour" I commented. "So do I. However, you can not" he stressed, "cannot hold what I said at 21 against me." he announced. I ruminated on that thought for a moment, "Ok, but this is your last chance." "Love, do you take me for a fool? I would never let this opportunity go. I'll never repeat the mistakes of my past, I promise" he said while holding both my hands in his. I leaned in and pecked his cheek. "I'll stay back in Monaco for a couple more days. This is your chance to convince me why I should date you?" I stated. "You'll know that you want me in a couple of hours." he grinned. "Don't get too cocky Mr Hamilton" I smirked. He just leaned in with his breath fanning my skin, "Can I kiss you, darling?" he requested. "You gotta earn it, Hamilton" I teased. "I've waited for so long for this" he mumbled. "Then you can wait a little longer" I giggled. I felt a pair of hands against my waist. "I could've if you weren't this close" he said with our lips almost touching, he intently eyed them. "Maybe one won't hurt" I thought loudly, my resolve breaking. "Thought so" he chuckled, while leaning in to kiss me.

I might do a part 2, but like if you guys want one. I know where I want to go with this, if i write another part. If you like this lemme know, it'll encourage me to write the next part then thank you for reading!! Hope you liked it!!

[sanguineterrain]

I am FERAL over your knight Jason thought. FERAL!!! Okay check this out: so Jason's ignoring reader because he feels guilty right? Maybe he tried to give them back but the king wouldn't allow it. But maybe the reader misunderstands and thinks they're not doing their "duties" so they make dinner and breakfast and wash his clothes and basically act like a perfect spouse. How would Jason react? 👀

Dear god... I feel another series coming on...

Idkidk, their dynamic is just really interesting to me! it's probably gonna be a bit of a slow burn here. Feel free to send more thoughts about them. I am rotating these two like a rotisserie chicken in my brain.

knight!jason todd x gn!reader. ambiguous time period but just assume it's olden times *gestures vaguely*. tw arranged marriage/forced relationship but it's complicated! jason is full of angst and self-loathing but he's a sweetie as per usual. original post for context.

****

The soldier—Jason—has said four words since you've arrived.

The first was "here," which he said whilst handing you a mug of milk. He didn't look at you as he said it, and that morning, he left for a five-day long station. You only know that because he said, after handing you the milk, "I've been stationed."

You realized it was five days when you heard his horse galloping towards the house... five days later.

You haven't initiated conversation because though you're a commoner, and no one ever had much hope for you to become anything but an old spinster, you know not to challenge knights.

But this is fucking ridiculous.

"Do you like veal?" you ask on your fourteenth day here.

Jason is about to leave, his boots half laced. He freezes at your question and looks up.

You stand tall, chin up. This is a normal question. A question a wife would ask her husband, except you're not a wife, and you're pretty sure this soldier isn't a husband either.

"I like veal," he says carefully, slowly. "Would you like me to fetch some from the market?"

Now, this is where it gets tricky. When the king summoned you, he made it clear that you were expected to care for Jason under his rules. You don't know how to navigate this world. You know what couples in your village do, but you don't know what's expected of you here.

"Actually, I..." Jason looks at you. His eyes are very green. He has a surprisingly sweet face under his helmet. "Actually, I was wondering if I could go. On my own."

"Oh."

You brace yourself for arguing or yelling. True, he hasn't raised his voice once, but he also hasn't said much at all. It's like living with a ghost.

"Yes, of course. Of course you can go." He fishes out a pouch of coins and gives them to you. You take it slowly, waiting for him to realize his mistake. He doesn't.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods and watches you walk.

"Wait."

You stop. Here it comes.

"There's a cargo ship in port today. The guards rotate at noon."

He leaves before you can form a thought. You hold the coins, watching blankly as the door shuts behind him. His horse whinnies, and then he's gone.

The market isn't far from the cottage. It's fantastic to be outside again. No one's noticed your absence, clearly, but that's alright. You've never expected more.

You buy a good cut of veal and potatoes and carrots and apples. Jason gave you more money than any cut of meat would cost, so surely he assumed you would buy other food. Why else would he give you so much?

A ship's horn drones in the distance. You're feeling some oranges when you remember his words. A cargo ship.

The sun is almost at its highest point.

"Oi! Either buy 'em or stop feelin' 'em!" the seller snaps.

You roll your eyes and move on from the orange stand. You can see the horizon of where the sky meets the sea from here. Any moment, the guards will change, and the ship will be...

You stop. Was Jason hinting at your escape?

No, he couldn't have been! That's preposterous. Why would he want you gone? The king took you for a reason.

And where would you go anyway? Once you leave, you'd be a criminal forever. You couldn't make a home on your own. And who knows what could happen in between? Pirates, enemy soldiers, anybody could snatch you up.

This must've been a test. A test to see if you would run. That's why he agreed to you going so easily.

No, your escape can't be planned now. Not when you're so obviously uncomfortable, and Jason knows it.

You ignore the ship and go home with your purchases. You spend the rest of the afternoon preparing veal stew. You warm leftover bread over the fire and set a pot of butter on the table.

Jason comes in louder than he has before, humming quietly. You perk up at the sound, happy for the lack of silence.

You set a bowl of stew at his chair and wait by the fire. As soon as he enters the kitchen, the humming stops.

"Welcome home," you say, wringing your hands. "I made supper."

Jason glances at the table, then back at you.

"You came back," he says.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask, face neutral as you cut the bread into chunks.

"That—did the ship come?"

"Yes."

Jason sits. His face is dirty from training.

"I bought more than veal," you say, and hand him the pouch. "I hope that's alright. We—there were no more potatoes."

He takes the pouch, rubbing the string tied around the top. "You went to the marketplace... and came back."

It's not a question, but it sounds like there might be one behind it.

"Certainly," you say. "I'm loyal to you, Jason. I serve you."

He looks up, blinking rapidly. Then he looks back at his stew.

Oh, right. He's waiting for you to ask permission to sit.

"May I join you?" you ask.

Jason flinches. "You don't... you don't have to ask. I would never stop you from eating."

The words hang in the air. It's like neither one of you can speak right.

You watch him, and he watches you as you serve yourself and sit on the opposite side of the table. Jason takes the first bite, and you eat right after.

"Is the supper satisfactory? Have I done well?" you ask.

Jason stops chewing and sets his spoon down. You're struck by his shift in demeanor. You worry for a moment you've screwed up something as dim-wittingly simple as stew.

His eyes are sad as they fall on you. It's akin to grief, the pain he wears, but you don't know why he's grieving. You silently offer him more bread, pushing it toward him. He takes it.

"Yes," he says quietly and eats another spoonful. "You did. Thank you for supper."

Jason cleans his bowl three times. You have no stew leftover, which pleases you.

But as soon as Jason finishes eating, he gets up, rinses his bowl, and wordlessly leaves.

You don't see him for the rest of the night.

Somehow, you feel lonelier than when you weren't speaking.

[ckret2]

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[rcmclachlan]

Return of the Mack

For @alchemistc. Hope you feel better soon!

At the fire academy, three things are beaten out of every trainee: fear, a normal sleep schedule, and the social influences that prevent one from intervening in the event of an emergency. Some have jokingly called the third one the Anti-Bystander Effect, because if someone needs assistance—whether it's to stop an assault, run into a burning building, or help a little old lady find a quarter she dropped—a firefighter will immediately rush in to save the day. It's a special brand of classical conditioning that instills an elevated sense of responsibility in every trainee, and it's paid in full by the state of California.

Which is why it's so odd for there to be three capable firefighters standing around doing nothing while there's an old man clearly in need of dire assistance. If the LAFD higher-ups knew they were actively choosing to watch the carnage unfold instead of lifting a finger to help, they'd all be shitcanned. 

Luckily, there's a fourth firefighter on the scene doing the absolute most. 

"I thought we made a pact to keep him from using his powers for evil," Eddie says, taking a dispassionate sip of his coffee. 

"Is it evil if he's actually using them in service of a greater good?" Hen's attention is half on what's going down and half on the Notes app on her phone, where she's typing out the week's grocery list. "You know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Draped over the railing like his bones have melted, Chimney gives a sage nod. "He's like a one-man Suicide Squad." 

In the apparatus bay, they watch as Vincent Gerrard uses the distraction of B Shift heading home to duck behind one of the engines, most likely to regroup after being thoroughly ambushed the second he stepped into the station five minutes ago. He slumps back and breathes. The moment of weakness costs him: a grinning demon rounds the corner and makes a bee-line for him as though he can taste blood in the air.

"So, which one of you said 'spreadsheet' three times in a mirror?" Ravi sidles up next to Chimney and unwraps a breakfast burrito from Delia's. 

Chimney gives him the stink-eye. "I hope you brought enough for the whole class."

"Nope," Ravi says, taking a cheerful bite.

"None of us summoned him," Eddie says. He leans down to try and catch the conversation being had, but he's too high up. For a second, he thinks he hears the words 'crack whore' but it's probably a trick of the bay's acoustics. "He's everywhere, always, just watching and waiting for you to slip up. Like God."

"Or the Devil," Hen says in agreement.

"Or Santa," Chimney adds.

Ravi chews thoughtfully. "I thought we threw out all the clipboards. Who gave him that one?"

"Tommy," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney say through a simultaneous, long-suffering sigh. 

It's not just any clipboard. It's the king of clipboards. It's the only clipboard that has ever fucked. The thing is a navy blue polycarbonate beast with "Buckley 118" embossed in fire engine red on the back, and the clip looks like it was forged in the fires of Staples HQ. 

At the bi-weekly Beer and Bitch Night last Friday at Golden Road Pub, Tommy had pulled it out of a bag and presented it on one knee like he was proposing, or bestowing a sword to a king. The entire brewery was then given front-row seats to an intense game of tonsil hockey that nearly went into overtime until Eddie threatened to call Athena because Bobby looked like he was seriously reconsidering sobriety.

"Does he know what he's unleashed?" Ravi sounds genuinely curious. 

As if on cue, Chimney's, Eddie's, and Hen's phones chime with three incoming messages. 

T.K. 07:26am: Has it started? T.K. 07:26am: Remember: you promised one of you would film it T.K. 07:27am: I'm offering 3 nights of free babysitting to the first person who delivers

That last one is followed by a gif of J. Jonah Jameson shouting "Bring me Spiderman!"

Hen frowns down at her phone. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Chimney mutters.

H.W. 07:28am: Why are you so desperate for video?  E.D. 07:28am: What 40-something year old still pinky swears? H.H. 07:28am: Clipboard Buck better not be a weird sex thing for you, Kinard

Tommy's typing indicator appears, then disappears. Then appears and disappears again. Then appears—

"Yeah, no." Chimney hastily pockets his phone. "Those two were made in a lab for each other, I swear to god."

Down in the bay, Gerrard has moved to stand almost directly underneath them. While they can't hear what Gerrard says to Melanie Wu, an electrician so talented she could probably take down the entire grid with her eyes closed, that puts such a dour expression on her face, they can hear it when Buck, popping up behind Gerrard like an insane Jack-in-the-box, says, "Don't worry, Melanie! This is something to bring up during Thursday's workplace conflict seminar."

"What seminar?!"

Buck isn't cowed. He taps his clipboard and says, "The one I scheduled with Chief Alonso. You know, the mandatory one we all need to do in order to keep our certification—well, we'll keep it as long as nothing comes up during the seminar that might call into question our ability to do the job."

There's a charged moment where it almost looks like Gerrard might take a swing at Buck, but then he notices the audience hanging above him like a Greek chorus and shouts, "Someone'd better top off the fuel and DEF or—"

"Already done, Cap." Buck makes a show of turning to the second page on his clipboard and lists off, "All fuel, DEF, oil, and coolant are set. Tires have been aired up. Hoses have been drained and cleaned, and re-rolled. Engines were all waxed yesterday, all medical supplies have been inventoried and stocked, and I've made a list of the harnesses and cutting torches that need replacing. Just need you to sign off on everything. Sir."

The ingratiating smile on Buck's face would fool even the wiliest of senior officers, and Gerrard himself looks like even he's not sure if what just happened was disrespectful, but they know better. 

"Diabolical," Ravi whispers, awed. 

Hissing through his teeth, Gerrard spins on his heel and storms away in the direction of the little office in the administrative section of the firehouse where he's taken to holing up like a miserable groundhog until they get a call that forces him back out. If he sees his shadow on the firehouse wall, it's six more hours of bullshit.

As soon as he's gone, all the firefighters that had stopped to watch the show burst into laughter and applause, and Buck cracks up, taking sweeping bows and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. 

Chimney rolls his eyes and looks to see what Hen's expression is doing, because no one gives good face like she does, but she's holding her phone in a way that clearly means—

"You're filming this?" Chimney demands, betrayed.

She gives an unrepentant shrug. "Three nights of free babysitting? I'm not proud."

"You do know this means Buck's going to get laid and be absolutely insufferable about it, right?"

"Three nights," Hen bites out through very audible regret.

Buck looks up, flashes a grin, and the second he clocks the phone he salutes it with the clipboard. Then he struts after Gerrard, calling almost lazily, "Cap, wait up! I wanted to talk about setting up a mock exam for everyone who's planning on taking the TCFP D/O!"

They all watch him go. Silently, Hen sends off the video with the air of someone about to make a drug drop. 

"So, when does Taylor Kelly's exposé come out again?" Eddie makes a dubious face in the direction of the administrative offices. "Because I don't know that Gerrard won't off himself before it does."

"We win either way," Chimney points out. 

"It comes out next Monday," Hen says, slipping her phone into her pocket and elbowing Chimney in the arm on her way to the stairs. "Karen and I are hosting a watch party that night and you're all invited."

Ravi beams. "Thanks, Hen. I'll definitely be there."

"And you'll be bringing dinner from Taco Azteca—for everybody. Make sure you get enough carne," Chimney calls over his shoulder as he follows Hen. 

"I'm not a probie anymore," Ravi whines. "You can't haze me like this."

Snickering, Eddie pats him on the shoulder and says, "You do this and I'll make sure you're not sitting anywhere near Buck and Tommy when Taylor drops the bomb about Gerrard and Ortiz."

"Extra al pastor and buche it is!"