#thank you so so much for sending this ask and enabling me to just. talk about papyrus for several paragraphs

[kedsandtubesocks]

Mr. Winter

Santa!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, marriage of convenience, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is older), yearning, fluff with light angst, grumpy but sweetheart!Joel, caregiver!Joel with slight sugar daddy!Joel vibes, brief moments of dealing with toxic family, Joel lifts reader once with his Santa strength, spicy thoughts, heavy making out, fingering, glove & finger sucking, use of “good girl,” Joel’s dirty talk & referring to himself as “old man,” one light ass smack, reader wears lingerie, Santa!kink (?), use of gendered language

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: yeah… hi lol this is heavily influenced and based off “The Santa Clause” films but you don’t need to know those to read - biggest thank you to my favorite enablers & Santa’s cutest helpers @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett ily…also happy holidays, if you’re reading this I can’t thank you enough & hope a little magic comes your way ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics

You wrote the dumb letter at the end of the semester class party. You’re thankful everyone decided to write papers instead of having a final, a grad school blessing, which meant class was done by the last week of November. Your professor even had set up the cutest Letters to Santa Station, and your friend begged you to write one with her.

So you did.

And you jokingly asked Santa for one thing - to send you a boyfriend.

Of course you know the big guy isn’t real and wouldn’t ever answer. It’s why you didn’t think much of it.

But now, if there’s any hope Santa could be real, you wonder if maybe he could just grant you one small wish…

You’re happy for your best friend, you truly are. Her wedding reception is beautiful, you just need a moment.

It finally hit you that you’re the last of your friend group not married. And as the cozy colder winter days bring in the couples closer during the slow song, you simply take a moment outside to collect yourself.

The once warmed spiked hot chocolate you’ve been enjoying now sits cold, not so festive.

Someone calls to you, says your name in a thick southern molasses smooth accent you don’t recognize.

Turning to the door, you definitely don’t know who this man is because you would have remembered someone this stunning.

Dressed down in some jeans and a sharp looking blazer, there’s almost a cowboy like air to this man. Rugged, older with lovely streaks of wrinkles and shining grey hair, a gorgeous sharp hawk nose, and dark as the deep earth eyes stare at you - he’s flat out gorgeous.

“Got your letter.” He cryptically announces, and confusion clusters in you.

This handsome stranger lifts up the overly festive candy cane colored envelope, the one you picked at the party a few days ago when you wrote your letter to Santa.

Slightly panicked, now you question who this man is.

The mystery man fidgets, painting him younger. He shifts to put his hands on his hips.

“Alright… there ain’t no easy way to put this, so imma just say it.” He starts. “I got many names… Father Christmas, Ol’ Saint Nick. Shit like that.”

Those dark unearthed eyes stare unflinching at you.

“But you can call me Joel.”

“Wait…What are you saying?” Bewilderment and skepticism bubble in your voice.

He sighs, ancient and tired, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t make me say it.” He grumbles.

“Wait are you saying you’re like, fucking Santa Claus or something?” You can’t even believe it.

His large hand moves away from his face, and the man, Joel, stays silent. The somber stillness makes this feel worse.

A disbelief filled laugh escapes you.

“Yeah okay, nice try.” You lift your drink to him, a slight mock cheers, then take a sip. It’s cold as hell and tastes bitter.

“I know it sounds fucking crazy as shit-”

“The Santa I know wouldn't cuss.” You playfully cut him off deciding to now embrace this joke.

His face grows foul, hard with a frown, not so very Kris Kringle like. With deliberate steps he moves slightly closer to you.

“Two years ago… who d’ya think dropped off that snow globe, huh?” His voice dips low, bordering a deadly seriousness, and you inhale sharp.

Two years ago, you and your mom’s favorite snow globe shattered. It felt silly getting so upset over such a strange object, but you couldn’t find a replacement anywhere.

Then after everyone had opened their gifts and family had left, you spotted a lone gift still tucked away hidden under the tree.

It was the snow globe, new and perfectly wrapped. You know you didn’t get it for your mom and the way she teared up, she didn’t get it for you. None of your other family members knew the significance of it.

“It has to be a Christmas miracle,” your mom had said. You didn’t believe it.

Now you stare a bit horrified and in shock at the man who knows about this.

Silence suffocates the air between you and him.

“Make a reindeer show up.” You blurt out.

The man, Joel, snorts dry and amused.

“Don’t need reindeer. S’a myth.” He replies low.

Your eyes narrow suspicious at him now.

“Can you make it snow?”

“M’not Jack Frost.” He scoffs offended.

“Santa always leaves snow from his boots.” You argue back.

“It’s for the dang effect.” Joel argues back.

“Can’t be Santa then.” You shrug.

He makes a disgruntled sigh of a noise. Glaring hard, he waves his hand out to the wind. Suddenly the wind blows strong, a howling gust rushing against you, so blustery you need to cover your face. When the wind stops you realize you’re lightly covered in snow.

You almost drop your not so hot chocolate.

Joel must sense your shock. He takes your drink from your hand, takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Look… came here for a reason. I think we might be able to help each other out.

He’s here with a proposition.

“I… need a wife.” He declares with a deadpan like energy.

Now you almost laugh again.

“What, did Mrs Claus divorce you?” You joke.

“Never been married.” He frowns.

Oh.

“So why now?” Curiosity peeks up in you fast.

“Legal shit.” His words don’t allow for more prying. “I’ll explain it all later. Just needed to find ya to see if we can get this done.”

“Wait, why me?”

He lifts up that damn letter again, waves it around.

“Y’said you wanted a boyfriend.” He almost sounds bored.

“This isn’t the same.” You squak, indignant.

“Look,” he now returns to that deep somber tone.

“I need this. And you’d be… compensation.” His voice shifts slightly awkwardly.

He mentions your loans, all the debt you have, and how he might be able to help out. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets.

Commotion finally arrives at the door leading back inside.

Joel takes a sip of your drink, then hands it back to you.

“Think it over.” He says low.

The door slides open, and your other friend flings her head out.

“Hey come on! They’re cutting the cake!” She brightly exclaims, but her face scrunches up confused.

“Wait, who were you talking to?” She asks.

Your eyes flicker to the spot where Joel would be.

No one stands next to you. All that’s left is snow and the imprint of boots.

You also notice…your hot chocolate has been warmed.

-

“Santa lives here? In Austin Texas? What happened to the North Pole?” Walking behind him, you sound like a bummed out kid who just found out Santa isn’t real.

“Shit said to throw the FBI off.” Joel Miller replies bluntly, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not.

His house, rustic and cozy, holds a spacious warmth. But it feels vacant, unusually quiet for a man known to bring joy and the personification of Christmas warmth.

“So how does one become Santa?” You ask.

“Long story.” Another curt reply.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your wife shouldn’t I know these things?” Just saying the words aloud didn’t seem real.

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

The new home draws in your full attention trying to soak it all in. So many photos of two girls cover the walls and they grow right before your eyes. Curiously, you ask about them.

“They’re my daughters.” Joel answers simple.

Your eyes go wide.

He had children.

“They’re the reason why we’re here actually.” Joel adds while he moves around his cozy kitchen.

He reveals ‘Santa Claus’ is simply a title for someone to fill. It’s a hefty role. Joel was able to get away without having a spouse with his first daughter, and then again with his second. But now with her about to enter college, Joel was alone.

The stipulation to marry now stood between him and having the title stripped from him.

“Why do you even need to get married?”

“Some shit about needing companionship and other fuckin’ bullshit.” He gruffly explains.

“You could retire.” You offer.

“Don’t wanna.” He roughly replies grabbing papers out of a drawer.

“So your daughters… I’m sure they must’ve been over the moon knowing their dad was Santa.” You try breaking the ice more.

Placing a pen on the table, Joel sighs.

“Look, we don’t gotta do this.” He snaps tight. “This small talk and shit. The sooner we can get this signed and started, the sooner we can get this over with.”

His words sting, becoming sharp barbs that dig in deep.

“Fine.” You grab the pen ready to sign whatever the hell this guy has for you.

A back door opens, and commotion follows. A handsome younger man, with the same dark eyes like Joel that instead sparkle, walks into the kitchen from the garage. Following him are two much older gentleman, one with kind eyes and the other with a glare that could whither a field

“Well now, is this the soon to be Mrs Joel Miller?” The youngest of the bunch says bright and sunny.

Joel introduces you to his brother, Tommy, who is an exact opposite to his sour puss older sibling. Frank, an old family friend, is here to officiate the ceremony. His husband, Bill, would be the other witnesses besides Tommy. Frank and Tommy are thankfully sweet, obviously curious about you.

“Can we get this fuckin’ done with?” Joel snaps.

Now your annoyance triples, and you’re thankful Tommy and Frank chide Joel. Bill snorts amused.

But wanting to leave now too, you’re quick to agree to start the ceremony.

It’s done short and simple in the kitchen - Frank asking you and Joel to take each other as husband and wife. You agree briskly. Joel just nods. There’s not even an exchange of rings, or a kiss to conclude the ceremony.

Joel simply sticks his hand out, a damn handshake becomes your official agreement, your binding wedding vow.

You maybe should have read over the marriage agreement more, could have been smarter and brought a lawyer, even one that might have believed you. But you’re pissed. You simply sign the papers, let Frank go over the documentation, then gather your things.

“Wait, you ain’t gonna stay for lunch?” Joel suddenly questions seeing you get up to leave.

“We got this over with, didn't we, husband? That’s all you wanted right?” Your words are clipped, polite but sharp, that they even sting you.

You apologize to Tommy and Frank for meeting like this. Yet you don’t say another word to your new husband who feels more of a stranger than ever.

-

When you get back to your mom’s place a new sticky note sits on your night stand.

Sorry about today, let me make it up to you.

-J

Underneath is his phone number.

Guess he’s showing off the very classic Santa trick of slipping into houses without anyone noticing he pulled off a breaking and entering.

He answers on the second ring when you call.

“I got Santa’s personal number?” You offer with a gentle treading tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel huffs.

It eases the tension. But hesitation still brews thick, an awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger who just so happens to be your new husband.

“Uh, shit…Sorry about earlier. Didn’t end up eating lunch. You up for a bite to eat? I'll pay?” His voice is open, letting you decide.

Agreeing, he shows up to your door in record timing.

“Is this traveling fast a Santa thing? How can you travel so fast?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

Joel simply smirks, not answering, but the silence dances playful now.

He takes you to a cozy barbecue spot on the lake. The Texas winter makes the days crisp, almost stuck between autumn and full blown winter. But in the midday sun, it's rather lovely.

“I’m surprised you’re not busy with everything coming up.” You’re trying stepping into the conversation as eased and natural as possible.

“If I’m tryin’ to scramble to get shit done by now, then I ain’t doing my job right.” He says taking a sip of his beer, and his words ignite a burst of heat in you.

It's attractive… he’s attractive. You can’t deny that.

Lunch is surprisingly casual, relaxed. Joel asks about grad school and about your major, asks about your family. It vaguely feels like a regular first date.

However this is treading the waters between you and him and this strange new circumstance.

This situation has been gnawing at you. Anxiously, you wonder if he judges you for agreeing so quickly, for jumping in because of the money.

“Hey,” it's like he senses your quiet already.

“You still don’t gotta do this. I can head back home right now, rip up those papers and start again.” A sincere tone, gilded in understanding, rings in his voice.

He’s giving you a way out. You shake your head.

You want to see this as something good. So raising your drink up, it’s another cheers to him. This time Joel moves to toast you with his beer.

“I’d call this the strangest wedding reception ever but hey, I’ll take it.” Joel nods. His mountainous shoulders drop seemingly relaxed more.

You laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re sitting across a new friend now… who just happens to be your husband.

-

You and Joel start texting. It’s still a bit awkward, and he’s a dry texter which doesn’t help. You get tempted to send him Santa memes, but you’re not sure you can joke with him more.

You check your loans. They’re still there looming like a thick unmovable sludge. So he hasn’t paid it off yet.

Reality and acceptance settles in. This man, the embodiment of Christmas joy, is just that busy even though he said he wasn’t.

At least you helped, or maybe unknowingly sold your soul away and just don’t know it yet. Whatever it is, you slip back into your regular routine and head back to your mom’s.

Pulling up an unknown older red truck sits in front of the house, and you wonder who’s its owner.

Walking inside your mom announces she’s in the kitchen. Tools scattered along the table are a reliving sight. So it’s just the plumber she finally called.

“You didn’t tell me the guy you were seeing is a handy man.” Your mom whispers excitedly.

As if on cue Joel struts out from the bathroom looking something straight from a hallmark movie. The green plaid shirt he wears compliments him beautifully, and it’s hard not to stare at him and his delicious broad ass shoulders.

“Hey.” He greets with a half smirk.

“Was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see if ya wanted to get dinner tonight. Then I remembered you telling me about your mom’s sink.”

You mentioned that during your first lunch with him. How did he remember?

Something soft, swirling with longing, fills your chest, and you try swallowing it back. As thanks, your mom happily suggests Joel joining for dinner here, and panic strikes you fast.

Joel grins bigger seeing you scramble to dissuade him. Of course he agrees.

You never would have guessed Joel ‘prickly as a Christmas cactus’ Miller is a charmer. He even pays for takeout much to your mother’s surprise.

“Didn’t know he was so much…older.” She hesitantly comments when he leaves.

“It’s been nice dating someone more mature.” You half lie. You aren’t ready to tell her the guy is your husband.

Later you text him thanks for fixing the sink and for dinner.

What are husbands for? He replies back.

And you really wish you knew.

-

You’ve wanted to go see the trail of lights, but with your mom working late for the holidays and your friends out of town, you consider making the trip alone.

Until your phone rings.

Joel has now started calling you, simply to chat, ask about how your day is, even just to check up on you. It makes your heart jump.

“Whatcha up to?” His voice rumbles deep and wonderful over the phone.

“Wanted to go to the trail of lights but might skip. No one wants to go.” You sigh.

“I’ll go.” He quickly replies, and your head spins.

If you thought Joel in plaid was a deadly force, him in a thick winter brown coat that highlights his strong frame is an utter sight.

The array of candy colored lights coat the world in a beautiful celestial dream. You’re thankful it’s not busy tonight.

“I’ve always loved Christmas lights.” You admit. It’s one of your favorite parts of being back home.

Surprisingly, he curiously asks about you more, what brought you back home. You of course tell him the truth. Out of state college got too expensive in undergrad, and now going to grad school expenses started piling up.

“So I’m back home.” You simply shrug.

“Ain’t no shame in it.”

You beam at his earnest words.

“Y’know, I haven’t been here in so long.” Joel admits. “Used to come here with the girls all the time when they were little.”

Wanting to embrace this tiny step he’s taking, you ask what they’re like. A soft look, one molten and fatherly, blooms over his face. It suits him, like he was born to be a dad in any lifetime.

Sarah is his eldest, a sweetheart going to school to be a journalist. He had her when was young, way too young, and her mother wasn’t big on wanting to raise a kid at that age.

“So it was just the two of you?” You softly ask.

“Yup, until our Ellie came along.” He nods while another soft grin tugs at his lips.

He tells you Ellie is adopted.

“S’actually a wild story.” Joel begins. “Found her during a run.”

A run, you learn quickly, is when he’s out on Christmas Eve.

“Newborn baby crying on the edge of the fire station. It was freezing as shit that night. Couldn’t just leave her there.” He mutters lost in the memory.

You and him have slowed your walk, now almost glued to each other side by side.

“Was a goddamn miracle.” He adds nodding.

“That’s beautiful, Joel.” You admire, meaning your words.

He goes on telling you Ellie’s already working in her last year of high school, ready to move out, be on her own, ready to start college.

“So I bet when they were kids they were thrilled to know their dad was… who you are.” You state with a warm grin.

Joel barks hollow.

“Couldn’t even threaten them with the naughty list deal. To them I’ll always be dad.” His voice twinkles, it’s like peeling away at the rough exterior to realize Joel is just an extra toasty marshmallow.

He’s still so warm and soft on the inside.

“Can I ask… how did it happen?” You’re worried he’s going to shut you out like he did last time.

But a heavy exhale leaves him. And he tells you…

About a night driving home during the bad snow storm that came many years ago. He stopped to help this man on the side of the road, who he assumed was a mall Santa that had gotten into an accident.

“Instead it was the real fucking deal.”

After that, the previous holder of the title passed away, leaving Joel to take up the mantle.

“Had to say yes,” he says with a shrug. “Even at five years old Sarah was bossin’ me around, telling me I had to…. Haven’t regretted it since.”

Iridescent adoration swallows your body whole begging you to embrace Joel Miller wholly.

“It’s wonderful. It’s brought you so many amazing things,” You can’t even hide your admiration anymore, don’t want to. You don’t want to fight this. You’d be his real fake wife for long as he would let you.

Joel’s face turns to you. His eyes glance straight into your very being, the lights dance among his endless earthen eyes. You want to get lost in the twinkle, already hating how badly you feel drawn to this man.

You try taking in every ounce of Joel here under the cloak of lights. He’s a dream, this fake husband of yours, one that feels like you’re simply allowed to admire but never touch.

Being this close to him, your eyes unfortunately drift to his lips. How bad would it be to kiss this man?

There’s plenty of songs about kissing Santa Claus. Would you simply not be embracing the holiday spirit?

A distant car horn honks and causes you to jump, breaking the hypnotic spell Joel has cast on you. Walking out, sadly heading home, you finally notice something.

It could be the shade of the lights, but the greys in Joel’s beard are starting to appear white.

-

The week before Christmas is a chaotic cluster. So much cleaning and shopping, you want to scream. Joel calls you while you’re braving the mall.

“You sound exhausted, honey.” He says, and the pet name isn’t lost on you.

But it is lost on your rant though. You’re exhausted from trying to find these specific dang muffins your grandmother only refuses to eat while also trying to find a gift for your cousins.

“Gift cards are a lifesaver for a reason.” He comments casually.

“You grant Christmas wishes for a living, and that’s your answer.” You snort.

“I’ve delivered my share of ‘em, so hell yeah they are.”

Even in the mess of the mall’s chaos you laugh. In such a short amount of time, Joel’s presence in your life has solidified steady, unwavering, like he’s always been here. Long chats on drives home, him dropping by with groceries to deliver, it all unfolds so natural. You’re even heading over tonight to have dinner with him and his brother Tommy.

Once you’re back in the car, you notice a new bag sitting in the backseat.

Reacting in you discover not only the damn elusive dinner rolls you’ve been searching for, but a pack of gift cards.

A sticky note sits on top of them.

Don’t hate the gift card

-J

You blame the Yuletide spirit in the air, but your heart soars. It’s like you’ve been swept into a Christmas special. But, you’re waiting for the bad ending to come.

These feelings for Joel have only multiplied, taking root deeper in your heart. The sugared admiration for him now grows fangs becoming a dazed lust. You’ve had dreams of him sweaty and golden above you in bed. You ache to know what he sounds like, to know the feeling of him inside you, to get drunk on his taste.

Heading over to Joel’s you kick away those dangerous thoughts you have for your husband.

A sweet woman answers the door, who introduces herself as Maria, Tommy’s wife.

“Nice to finally meet Joel’s not so secret, secret wife.” She grins. Guess that meant she knew the secret too.

She knows more than you even do as she guides you out back. The shed sitting in the corner of the backyard is unassuming. Yet when you step inside, a full workshop, the size of a Costco, stands glimmering before you.

“It never gets old.” Maria whispers, sensing your stunned awe.

Joel finally steps into view, and you’re taken back. The white among his beard sits stronger. He’s in more comfortable clothes and the gray sweatpants are sinful on him. The sight of his strong arms, his tummy through his tight white shirt, all make you think of biting into his skin -

You yank yourself out of the feral thoughts. Especially when Joel spots you. He blinks, just as stunned as you are.

“Hey, sorry. Got shit tied up here. Y’don’t gotta stay, might not be done until... fuck I don’t even know when.” He sighs, running a hand across his face.

“Can I help?” You blurt out.

Joel blinks at you, almost like he didn’t hear what you said and even squints a bit making him as old as he is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask again.

Joel swallows. “You don’t, fuck...Ya don’t have to.”

You want to and determinedly tell him that.

His eyes widened like you just grew two heads. He recovers swiftly, nodding as he calls Tommy over. The younger Miller brother sees you and winks.

“Come on newbie, let’s getcha set up.”

You, Maria and Tommy are in charge of bulk orders making sure each package has the right amount and ready to be delivered.

“Does he… really have a list?” You ask with a whisper.

“Checks it twice too.” Tommy cheekily replies, and you laugh bubbling with disbelief, but apologize quickly.

“S’all good, trust me it took me a while to realize it’s real. But it’s something damn special once you do.”

You fully agree.

The night is long, but you don’t notice it. You get into a grove and get excited when Maria shows you some of the orders, children getting bikes, someone getting a new pair of shoes. It fills you with something luminous you can’t fully describe.

It’s a reward in itself when you finish a large order and high five Maria and Tommy.

“Well now, we finally get to meet the new Mrs. Joel Miller.” A new voice, smooth but curious, breaks the moment.

Behind you stand a small cluster of older men. You don’t know how, but you just know they’re all previous holders of the title of Father Christmas. It’s only confirmed when Tommy whispers it sharp to you. So these retired men were the ones pestering Joel.

“They usually drop by to do audits, checks and things, didn’t know they would be here this late.” Maria adds low.

“We’ve been wanting to stop by and give our congratulations, but Joel has been so keen on keeping you all to himself.” One of the older gentlemen winks.

You politely smile.

“You’re rather young.” Another man comments.

“Way too pretty for a grouch like Miller.” One, with a thick accent, teases with a grin.

Joel suddenly, as if summoned, comes rushing out from the side and immediately slides in front of you, a protective barrier.

“You’re running a bit behind schedule.” The snarkiest of the men comments to Joel. “Guess the new wife really has been keeping you away.”

Your face scrunches up pissed now, until Joel’s hand moves to hold yours, squeezing it tight.

“He even has you helping, dear?” One of the quieter men asks you, concerned.

“I’m happy to help.” You truthfully answer steady and firm.

You want to be a part of this as much as Joel allows. Not just because you’re his paper wife, but because you care for him.

All of the previous Santas now seem to survey you, practically staring straight into your soul.

“If you gentlemen are done harassing my wife I suggest y’all fuckin’ head home.” Joel barks sharp.

One of them scoffs at this reply.

The main leader of the group glances at you then back to Joel.

“You picked a good one, Joel.” He smiles with a chuckle.

“You take care of this grouch now, pretty lady.” The sweetest of the men beams at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“Get out.” Joel snaps cold, holding your hand tighter than ever.

In a blink, they’re before you, and the next, they’re gone, vanished into the wind.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, and you have to lean against Joel who sighs with the same relief.

In the rush, you swear you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. Tommy and Maria greet you proud. You return back to your station, back to helping.

Until you realize it’s past 1 in the morning, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Hey, crash here for the night.” Joel appears besides you, steadying your arm.

“I’ll be fine, I can drive home.” You reassure him through an unconvincing yawn.

“No. You don’t need to. S’cold as hell out there, just stay here.” He urges, and you don’t want to fight him.

So you’re given the guest room and a spare change of clothes, which include an oversized UT Longhorns shirt and sweats, both obviously Joel’s.

Sliding his shirt on, your heart races. The exhaustion, you blame it on the exhaustion, when you pull his shirt up to inhale deeply. The smell is soft, comforting, a mixture of his cologne and something purely musk, purely Joel.

You wonder how bad it would be to touch yourself in his guest room. Glancing out the door to see if you’re alone, that’s when you catch a glimpse of Joel down the hall.

Busy looking at his phone, he’s shirtless and a decadent sight. You fully take in his solid build, the look of a man. His sweatpants have slung lower, revealing the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock. The pudge of his belly is beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and you want him more than anything.

The next morning he’s gone, already hard at work. You enjoy breakfast with Maria and Tommy who you already adore even more.

“Don’t be a stranger now, it’s nice to have a new face around. Plus Joel can’t stop talking about you.” Maria’s words almost make you spit out your tea.

Tommy snickers at your reaction.

Driving back to your mom’s, you already miss the chaos of the Miller household. Arriving home, your heart sinks seeing your relatives have arrived early.

“Oh, back from staying over at a guy’s house? Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend that stays around long enough.” Even though your Aunt is trying to be teasing, you already wish she could leave.

“I think he’s a keeper. He’s older too.” You mom explains with a slow whisper, and you send her a look.

Everyone unfortunately perks up at that.

“Really? Well, you know what they say, you should always question why a man doesn’t date a woman his age.” Your Aunt, with such a judgmental tone, tries to sound sincere but it slices you deep.

“It’s not like that.” You reply feeling a new sense of dread crawl in you.

“Is it a sugar daddy situation?” Your cousin jokes, and it gets too much.

You laugh bitter, fake, then head back to your room. You wish more than ever to crawl back to Joel’s.

Back in your room, something new sits waiting for you on your nightstand.

A flower, your favorite, in full bloom has a note tied to it.

Thanks for all the help

This time Joel signs his name with a little scribbled heart.

You cherish it more than gold.

-

“I…won’t be available these new few days.” Joel reveals, almost sounds guilty.

It’s the first time you’ve finally gotten the chance to talk with him free from curious family members trying to eavesdrop.

Here in the dead of night, your heart aches for him.

“I know, kinda figured.” You grin.

He chuckles.

Suddenly a selfish thought tugs at you.

The image has been plaguing you more and more. Does dress up in full Santa gear? He has to, right?

“So do you…fully wear the whole thing? The red suit? White hat?” You ask, waiting for the answer.

“…if I say yes, are ya gonna divorce me?” Joel replies gruff.

You laugh but rush to quiet down trying not to wake anyone. But you reassure him there's no need for divorce.

“Just… kinda wish I could see it.” You admit, feeling greedy wanting to witness the sight.

Joel stays quiet.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters.

“Yeah…” maybe one day.

“Stay safe out there.” You tell him when you hear him yawning more. “And get all the rest you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He drawls, and you melt.

You don’t hear from him after that.

You deal with more annoying family members. Enjoy some delicious cozy food. All while missing Joel.

Waking up Christmas Eve morning, you see an email.

All your loans are paid in full. It wasn’t just your loans, but your mother’s. Completely debt free - both of you. She cries. You even get teary eyed.

One of your uncles makes a dumb joke about it maybe being a mistake.

“It’s a blessing,” your mom says, grateful.

“No, it’s a gift from Santa.” You beam, knowing no one would believe you.

However, a new fear starts morphing in you.

What did this mean for you and Joel? Is the contract completed? Is this over? Was it only to say he had a wife on paper, parade you as proof, then… never speak to him again?

The questions pester and haunt you the entire rest of the day.

Then night creeps in.

“You wanna leave cookies out for Santa?” Your mom jokes seeing you grab a plate.

“Maybe, but I think I might leave out a beer too.” You reply and she laughs.

Once everyone heads to bed and leaves back to their hotels, you sneak into the living room.

Never in your life would you have imagined ever needing to wait up to see Santa. Much less as a full adult.

And it proves to be a true test of endurance. You doze off a few times but quickly snap your eyes open, worried you’ll miss him.

Checking the time, it’s almost midnight. Of all the nights you want to stay up, fighting asleep is harder than ever.

You don’t even realize your eyes have closed until the softest graze of fingers against your cheek wakes you.

Panicked, scrambling awake, you snap your eyes open and whisper Joel’s name.

Finally blinking into focus, there’s no sign of anyone here.

“Y’left out a beer for me?”

Until the softest smoothest thick accent floats out into the quiet of your living room. You left the tv on, and the light of it blends with the glow from the Christmas tree. It bathes Joel in something sublime.

No classic Santa hat sits on his head, but the way his hair is scruffy and flat, he must have been wearing it before.

But the sight of him in the crimson suit, the soft white fur lined edges of the coat, how bulky and strong he looks… You’re reminded of a rugged cowboy Santa.

It all ignites a wildfire, and now you’re wide awake scrambling out of the blankets to get to him.

Not thinking, almost possessed by some ghost of Christmas present, you rush forward and embrace him. His body, sturdy and solid, radiates a warmth that encompasses you.

“What are ya doing up?” He whispers low while you clutch onto him. You need to touch him with your own hands, feel he’s real. You also don’t miss the gloved hands against your hips.

“Had to see you.” You croak out.

You pull back to look at him.

Finally, you take him in. It’s Joel, the same grumpy Joel that’s changed the oil for your car, who has a soft spot for the stray cats in his neighborhood, and is an amazing father - but it all collides with the truth of who he really is.

A watery laugh comes out of you and you hate that immediately you’re blinking away tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joel immediately asks worried, letting his hands move to rest on your arms, a comforting presence.

You reassure him it’s nothing, trying to wave this reaction off.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong or else Christmas stops and it’ll all be your fault.” His tone is somber, but you sense the tease, a classic Joel joke among his words.

Shaking your head, you wipe away more tears frustrated at your reaction. Then his hand, gloved but striking in size, cradles your face, and he gently strokes your cheek. Joel turns your face to him.

“Talk to me, honey please.”

You don’t know how to express everything that’s in your heart. It all feels too much - the conflict of realizing where you stand with him, the doubt that brews wondering if he even holds the same affection for you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit weakly.

It’s that you can muster out, all that you can do to sum up the bundle of emotions storming in your heart.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow. His mouth drops a bit. In the low light, the shadows on his face deepen like caverns aging him beautifully.

“M’not going anywhere. You won’t lose me.” He reassures, even squeezing your face soft.

Those endless eyes that normally stare so direct and with such a magnetic force, now flicker away almost boyish and shy.

“I’m the one afraid of losin’ you.” He mutters, like he’s admitting it more to himself.

His words unwrap your heart releasing so many emotions.

“Joel.” You whisper, a bit hesitant, and his gaze draws back to you.

He seems closer now, his coal-like eyes brewing something untouchable. Silence, a soft shift settles, you taking him in, and him doing the same for you.

You don’t know who moves first. But in a blink his lips descend onto yours.

His mustache tickles. His lips hold a hint of something sweet sugary, indulgent, or you wonder if that’s just Joel.

Strong gloved hands clutch onto you holding your tighter against his frame. He tilts your head, allowing him to kiss you deeper, and your mouth willingly opens begging for more of him.

It isn’t lost on you that you’re kissing Santa Claus, like a cheesy holiday song. But it’s the fact that you’re kissing Joel Miller that melts everything away.

Your fingers find his hair, running through his soft gray locks you’ve dreamed about. Joel groans, and you already want more.

With ease, he lifts you up with one arm and you squeak into his mouth. His chuckle vibrates against your lips, ticklish, until he starts to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the path of your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes and drawing him closer when he places you back on the couch. Your legs curl against his waist, locking him in as you try molding into him, with him, as much as you can.

His lips find yours again, this time there’s a fevered edge to them. His tongue is messy, licking into your mouth desperate. You moan when he sucks on your tongue.

A blazing hunger takes over making your hips grind against him. Feeling his gloved hands slide up your legs, you whine digging into him harder.

Until he suddenly rips himself away, leaving you feeling empty missing his warmth and body against you.

“Shit…Really gotta go, honey. I can’t say.” Joel sighs. His heavy breathing, the tightness of his jaw, this is as hard for him as it is for you.

“Can’t you be a little late?” You softly question rising back up to kiss up his scruffy beard.

He groans when you softly kitten lick at his upper lip.

“Fuckin’ naughty little thing.” Joel growls.

You softly kiss his lips again.

“Guess that means I’m on the naughty list huh?” The joke slips out, and you already want to hide after hearing yourself.

Joel groans, but this time it’s ripe with embarrassment. You hide your face while he snickers.

“That was bad.”

“I know,” you agree mortified.

Even in your embarrassment, Joel presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and every worry melts away.

He stands up, pulling you gently up with him. Gathering you into his arms, this time Joel feels larger than life but also closer than ever, like he’s stitched inside your heart now.

“When will I see you again?” You hate how badly you miss him already.

“Soon, I promise.” He reassures rubbing your back softly, and you nod back.

His hand moves to hold your face again, gently, like you’re a precious treasure.

And you think he might be yours.

Joel kisses you, the softest sweetest press of his lips that melts into your bones. And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

All that’s left are the faintest hints of snow flurries on your living room floor…

And of course he made sure to take his beer.

-

When Joel said he’d see you soon, you didn’t think it would be the next morning, Christmas morning.

Softly a hand brushes against your face, slowly waking you. You find yourself back in your bedroom. The soft glow of the winter morning spreads a gentle light that covers your room.

Joel is here, kneeling beside your bed, and immediately you turn towards him.

In this light, his greys look softer, thicker in their shade, like beautiful white streams run from his temples. And his beard looks as if snow flurries have been peppered in more. The red velvet of his suit looks brighter. Your fingers run across the fabric, across his shoulders.

You whisper his name, yet a sadness creeps in again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Are you okay… with us?” It’s a stumbled way to ask, but it’s all you can get out.

Is he okay that you’re much younger than him?

“Yeah, of course.” He nods.

“Actually, Ellie and Sarah were the ones who told me to go for it.” He admits fondly, sleepily.

“They said I needed to be selfish for once, let myself have this…”

His eyes watch you as you sit up to reach him.

“Is that why you were so cold when we first met?” You ask.

Joel nods, sighing.

“Felt awful knowing I was doing this to you, someone so dang young, so fuckin’ beautiful. Hated that you were stuck with a mess of ‘n old man like me.”

“I’d pick you everytime.” The words escape fast. You can’t even stop them.

Instantly he swoops in kissing you with an unchained passion that makes you dizzy.

Immediately you tug at him, begging him to crawl onto the bed. You sigh in bliss when he does, making your mattress creak ever slightly with his glorious solid frame.

His kisses are drenched in a poison intoxicating you.

Clutching onto Joel’s shoulders, you lift your hips when his gloved hands tug at your pj pants.

That’s when you hear the faint laughter of everyone downstairs awake. You freeze. Joel senses your hesitation. That gorgeous nose of his nuzzles against your jaw breathing in the scent of you.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” His thick low voice is all you need because you’re nodding yanking at his shoulders to kiss him again.

This kiss dances along the edge of something fierce and wild, like you’re trying to contain it, hold it back before it spreads and someone hears.

Until Joel’s gloved fingers slip inside your wet heat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to hold back a moan. Feeling his black leather glove inside you has your eyes roll back. Then when you rest your head against the soft fur lining of his coat, it creates such a dizzying sensation you want to get lost in.

“Oh fuck.” He drawls, hoarse.

His fingers pump in and out of you, and the squelch of your wetness sounds downright obscene now. Joel revels in it.

“Letting this ol’ man winter fuck ya while everyone’s down stairs waiting…Y’like that baby?”

You whimper, nodding, clutching onto him harder trying so hard to keep quiet. Then he removes them from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

Until he draws his gloved fingers, shining and coat in your arousal, up to your lips.

“Can ya clean ‘em off for me?” He mutters.

Without hesitation you pull them into your mouth and suck, letting your tongue wiggle across the leather. You moan tasting this union of you and the leather.

“Shit,” Joel croaks like he got punched in the gut.

Quickly he yanks his hand out from your mouth, rips his gloves off and kisses you feverish.

“Need to feel ya.” He sounds drunk as you feel, even more when his bare fingers thick and warm slip into you again.

He makes you come so fast it knocks you breathless, feeling hot even with the cooler temperature in the room. You whisper begging him to fuck you, to take you here before he heads home -

“Can’t darlin’, but soon I will. I promise.” He reassures you kissing your lips over and over.

“And Santa always keeps his promises, yeah?”

That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. You greedily kiss him, trying to devour him even more.

“Jesus,” he growls, his accent thicker than ever. “Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to leave.”

“Then don’t.” You beg.

But then the voices downstairs get louder, and the smell of food warming up floats in.

Joel sighs deflated. You know this is the end for now.

Rubbing his wonderful nose against yours, you lean to press your forehead to his. He breathes out your name, and it sounds like a blessing.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He whispers softly to you.

A knock comes at your door, and in a panic you drag your blanket up around you.

“You awake yet?” Your mom jokingly asks.

You definitely are now. Of course Joel has vanished.

But something tickles the top of your head. Bundles of mistletoe, twisted among so many lovely ribbons, bloom all along your bed frame.

-

One Christmas Later

“Did I ever show you the shirt Ellie and Sarah sent me last week?” You ask, and Joel, half paying attention, hums.

He pulls his attention away from the Dallas Cowboys game long enough to glance at your phone.

The shirt reads - Mrs Claus but Married to the Grinch

He rolls his eyes, not finding it as amusing as his daughters did.

“Or what about this one.” You show him the next option.

This one, in bright gold lettering, says - Santa’s Sexy Girlfriend

“No.” He flat out pushes the phone away making you laugh and lean against his strong shoulder.

This would be the last night before he heads out on his run. This will also be the first night you get to see him leave, and the first night you’ll get to wait for him now living at his home.

The memories and days that have brought you here are strung up in your heart, luminous multi colored tinsel you never want to take down.

“It’s actually one of the first years we’re ahead of schedule,” Tommy says when you greet him back at the workshop.

“That wife of yours is really something.” Though Tommy talks directly to his brother he makes sure to wink at you.

You’re grateful you got to help out more this year, even enjoyed having Ellie and Sarah around when they came by to visit. But with Ellie now enjoying time with the girl she desperately has a crush on, and Sarah taking the day to spend time with her new boyfriend, it really would just be you and Joel.

A delicious heat crawls in you knowing what you had waiting for him.

But you almost forget about it when you start helping Joel get dressed.

Your throat dries seeing him buckle up his crimson pants, then helping him slide his thick coat on and how broad it accentuates his shoulders…

“You keep lookin’ at me like we’re gonna get behind schedule.” Joel mutters sinful.

“We’re ahead of schedule. We could…mess around for a bit.” You offer light.

“No, being ahead means I can come home earlier.” He very playfully and lightly smacks your ass.

You hate when he’s right.

With a kiss goodbye you send him off returning to the quiet home. You’ll have a day and a half before Joel officially returns. So you spend your time binging multiple movies.

You’re also thankful for the stash of extra cookies you finally found. Joel ‘I ain’t got a sweet tooth’ Miller isn’t so slick with his hiding spots.

The film your best friend recommended is cheesy. But during the scene where the main love interest comes to interrupt the engagement party to announce he loves the bride, cause you to pause.

In theory, you are Joel’s wife. Your mom even jokes that she practically has the most perfect unofficial son in law, if only if she knew the truth. Yet, you don’t have a ring, don’t even use Miller as your last name.

It’s silly, you tell yourself and try not to think about it too much.

So you instead enjoy more cozy snacks and the rare bits of snow Austin is getting this time of year. It’s magical, paints the world like something straight from a Thomas Kinkade dream.

The morning comes when Joel will be home, and you sit waiting on the bed. Don’t even mind you work up early for this.

Earlier confidence surged in you when you slipped into the gorgeous lingerie set. Now it itches on your skin as you sit worried. The bow sitting on your bra might be too much. You almost bought the cute risqué Santa nightgown, but you hesitated.

You didn’t feel like you could truly even joke about being Mrs Claus when you didn't even fully consider yourself Mrs Miller.

“Honey?” Joel announces stepping into the house, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“In here!” You yell back.

Waiting on the bed feels like an eternity passes before Joel opens the door. There’s still snow on his shoulders. His hair is starting to grow out more so it curls around his ears. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

Then his face falls and his eyes become full moons taking in the sight of you before him.

“Oh baby,” he whispers like he can’t believe his eyes.

You grin sleepy.

With eased measured steps Joel walks forward, and you’re reminded of a hunter trying to approach his prey.

He drags his fingers, ungloved, warm and callous from all the hard work he does, up your exposed skin leaving a trial of heat in their wake.

“Can I unwrap my present?” He mutters, allowing his fingers to drift with. Delicate touch across the top of your breast barely kept in by the lace covered bra.

“Yeah, Joel please.” You sigh, closing your eyes when his large hand suddenly grasps, squeezing your breast.

The poor lingerie doesn’t make it out alive.

Now you drift in and out of sleep, naked in his arms. Joel kisses your forehead promising he’ll buy you as many new sets as you want.

“Merry Christmas to both of us.” You dryly joke.

He laughs, but it sounds a bit weak, more like a cough.

“Uh, speaking of Christmas gift… y’want yours now or later when we wake up?”

That makes you bolt up fast from his arms.

“I told you not to get me anything, Miller.” You protest, glaring at him.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me of all people not to get you something?” He scoffs.

“Then I don’t want it.” You stubbornly pout back.

“Alrighty then, I’ll return it tomorrow.” Sleepily he shrugs and turns on his side giving you full sight of his glorious sun kissed bare back. You try not to linger on the scratch marks you left behind.

Now you persistently tell him to give it to you.

“Sounds like what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He teases with a smirk glancing over to you from his shoulder.

Now you roll your eyes.

“Give me the gift Miller, or else.” You shake his shoulder trying to sound somber like Joel himself, but a smile tugs at your lips.

Dramatically, he groans sitting up.

“Making an old man like me get up after the long ass night I had.” He says reaching over to his nightstand.

“Oh please, if I asked you to go another round you would.” You scoff.

“You wanna?” He asks with a curious mutter, and you shove his shoulder again playful.

“Fine, fine.” Joel grumbles.

After reaching under the bed, he returns back with a box…covered in dinosaur wrapping paper.

“Look, it was the only one I had left over here.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Joel, you work at a magical workshop where there's an endless supply of cute Christmas wrapping paper. Why didn’t you grab some?!” You laugh.

“Didn’t wanna mess up the inventory.” He huffs, grumpy and classically Joel.

“You gonna open it or am I gonna have to hide it again?”

At his words you greedily rip off the paper.

You guess by the size it looked like a shoe box and it is, a familiar box you thought you threw away. Now you’re confused.

Opening it, inside is an even smaller box. This one is classically wrapped in green and red with a shining bow on top.

But when you pick it up, you discover the tiny box is heavy. There’s also a latch at the back begging for you to lift and open.

Inside sits a ring, dancing with a shimmering sparkle.

You already fight back the tears.

Is this what you think it is?

Whipping your face to Joel he seems hesitant, worried, while he keeps his focus on you.

“I know we might’ve done this backwards but…” he reaches for the ring, gingerly pulling it out.

“Wanna make it official now.”

You inhale sharp.

“Honey I’ll get down on one knee if you want, but might take me a while to get back up…” he jokes, but the edge of his voice is watery, shaky, like he’s the one barely holding on.

“But…will you marry me again-”

You don’t even let him finish before you rush to kiss him. The tears come, fast and free like a wave, but they’re beautiful. You embrace it all.

Joel slides the ring in your finger. The weight of the beautiful metal feels wonderful against your skin, but you don’t notice it. Not when you’re swept up in making love to your Joel, your fiancé.

The love bursting through your heart could swallow you whole and you would let it.

“I love you,” he admits against your skin, breathing out like he’s finally found a moment of rest.

“I love you too.” You rub his back soaking in the bliss among the sweat and heat of his body against yours.

It’s just you and your Mr Claus.

“I’m glad Santa granted my wish.” You mutter dreamy, not caring how embarrassing you sound.

That is until Joel lifts his head up, those wonderful eyes of his shine brighter than any northern star.

“Mine too, honey.” He mutters, kissing you tenderly, a sweet promise of more beautiful Christmas days to come.

[bunny-jpeg]

hello! i’m here to make a bakery order! id love to see a croissant and loaf of whole wheat bread with a sangria as the side, served by daniel ricciardo! possibly christian horner’s daughter reader 🫣🫣🫣

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? go wild with the menu! there's all kinds of items on there and i'm working tiredlessly to finish them all! thank you in advance for anything you send! as for this lovely anon, this captured me right away! i find so many love our danny ricc, so thank you for the order!

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + loaf of whole wheat bread ("you're going to shut that mouth and take me.") + sangria (drunk sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, drunk sex, horner!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, doggy style, snark and sarcasm

daniel shouldn't have let the liquor run his mouth. he knew he should've kept this words to himself, it was so fucking stupid. but what he really needed right now was the devil on his shoulder, enabling his drunken ideas. and his good friend max verstappen was the perfect man in red.

"what colour do you think her panties are?" daniel asked as he turned max's head toward your direction, max was pretty much gone. currently you were seated with a drink in your hand. he knew you were drunk because you were flirty.

max looked at you for a moment and narrowed his eyes. he then chuckled before he took another healthy sip of his gin and tonic. he hit the glass a little too hard against the table and barked, "i don't know, mate. ask her!" then slapped his teammate on the shoulder.

but there was a small problem. daniel was driving for red bull and you were christian horner's daughter.

"what did you just ask me?" you said as you downed the rest of your drink, "do you have a wager or some shit with verstappen." you rested against the table a little, "are you fucking kidding me?" you got louder when you drank, just like your father.

he looked at you with those big eyes and asked, "can i see 'em anyway?" what should've been met with a slap across the face was instead met with him being pulled into an uber. the sound of max's laugh echoed in his brain.

you were both painfully drunk, this was a mistake waiting to happen. but while he couldn't make mistakes on the track. he'd be happy to flip his entire world inside out if it meant getting to fuck your sweet pussy.

"what about your father?" he asked before you made out him in the back of the car, your hands in his tie. his hand up the skirt of your dress, rubbing your upper thigh.

you pulled away and said, "danny. i don't care what my father wants right now? he's not even in the country." which surprised daniel before he pulled back into a searing kiss. you were both hands-y. when the uber arrived back at your home, you left another tip in case for the driver for all their trouble of transporting two drunk idiots.

your apartment was small given your status. but it was filled with charm. you both bumped into things as you tried to kick your shoes off. daniel's lips were on yours as you led him to the bedroom. your back clipped the door frame before you got both of you into the room. you were both stumbling as you got the light on.

"fuck, danny."

"i know, i know. i got ya."

"i'm such an idiot for letting you pick me up with that stupid line." you dropped to the bed and started to take off your dress. you looked so pretty, even drunk as hell with heat in your cheeks. you looked at him with want, "like jesus christ i'm stupid."

he took his tie off and took off his shirt, "well, call me curious. i want to know what horner's daughter wears underneath all those baggy shirts." he laughed.

you rolled your eyes, "fuck you, ricciardo. and stop mentioning my old man."

he pouted palyfully as he swayed a little in his stance. he could feel the alcohol ruining his critical thinking skills. he said, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you huffed as you got down to your undergarments. cute baby blue boy shorts and a white bra with a blue bow in the middle. it made daniel stop in his tracks, his hands on his belt. you said in a stern tone, "if you want to keep talking to my dad, i can send you on a flight to let him fuck you." your words were biting.

he got the belt off and snapped it together threateningly, "don't make me gag you, princess."

"oh really?" you tilted your head to the side. the liquor you had gave you a sense of courage, "is someone worried that they're going to be shafted from the team? have to fuck me in a last ditch attempt to have a chance of being as good as max verstappen."

daniel laughed as he got closer to the bed. he got his slacks off and soon his underwear. leaving him naked, but he wasn't vulnerable. if anything there was a darkness that laid under him. the alcohol fueled something in his brain.

"oh sweet little horner. that's really sweet coming from you. at least i win, you can barely get past university. you'll be lucky to find a rich husband that can handle that mouth of yours." he got into bed with you, soon your underwear was off of you and daniel had you laid out under him. his cock pressed against your ass and his bulkier frame kept you pinned down to the bed. he held your jaw and said, "the horner name is only so good. i wonder if your pussy gives you any value. so, you're going to shut that mouth and take me. got it?"

you felt the alcohol flood your head more. you could barely form words, it was like daniel riccicardo melted any processing power in your head. you nodded and daniel slapped your ass.

"see, that's what i like to see. you feel so good under me.' daniel could already feel the heat on his back. his heart raced at the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. you were perfect for him. painfully beautiful. in all fairness, he forgot what colour your panties were, green? pink? whatever, this was more important.

he rubbed his cock up against you until he managed to get in between your thighs. getting right to your pussy, the feeling almost took the breath out of him. holy shit, you were perfect.

"where has your father been hiding you, beautiful?" he purred in a low tone which made your hips shift, "is that why he sent you to boarding school, so you wouldn't be a slut around the paddock." his words were poison and his thrusts were brutal, "i asked you what colour your panties were and you basically were sucking my cock." he groaned, "i bet if max came to you first, he'd be fucking you right now." he kissed at your cheek as he lifted your hips to get a better angle.

"never. god, never." you groaned.

"awww, is verstappen not good enough? get your bastard father and his bastard father in the same room." daniel chuckled, "in-laws from hell."

you groaned and kicked out your legs a little, "stop mentioning my dad, you asshole." but before you could say anything more, daniel had your head in the covers as he started to really work at your pussy.

"why? he's such a lovely man. zero issues with him whatsoever." he panted heavily in your ear, "i wonder if he'd know if you were here. if some loud mouth told him. that you were squirming under me, letting me use and abuse that pussy of yours."

you gripped onto the covers and moaned loudly. you felt your heart racing in your ears as you back arched. he kept you so nicely pinned between him and the best. there was no escaping out from under him.

"danny please."

"you beg so pretty." he said softly, "i should've asked you sooner. maybe i should've flashed them to max. i bet he would've liked to see what horner's been hiding from us." his words were liquid in your brain, frying any cognitive thought. the rush of everything made the liquor move through your head even more. you panted heavily against the covers as he continued to thrust inside of you.

"please, danny. fuck. i just wanted you. you stupid idiot!" you whined, "i wanted you and your dumb cock!"

"you like this don't you? you like having your insides rearranged by me." daniel barked a laugh as he continued to rut against you. he felt so deep inside of you.

"fuck." you groaned, not even able to deny it. it all felt so good, and you wanted to kill him for it. you hated that he polluted your brain like strong liquor.

he chuckled and kissed the side of your head, "see, being my good girl is always worth it. just let me take care of you." but he knew you'd be done soon. his words lived in your head and you panted into the covers.

"you drive me fucking insane."

"oh i know. i'm in your head all the time." he laughed.

"shit. danny." you whined as you clawed at the covers. your back arched like a cat and giving the perfect angle for daniel to fuck up into you. you held on for dear life as you climaxed around his cock. you panted into the covers.

daniel continued to move against you, using your hips to bounce you on his cock. you felt like a dream come true. his cock bullied your sweet pussy. he whispered in your ear, filth as he came inside of you. his hips against you a few more times before he stopped. he laid on top of you for a moment as he caught his breath.

your heart hammered in your chest as he eventually got on his side next to you. he bundled you up in his arms and held you close to him. there was heaving breathing between the two of you.

daniel pulled you in for another kiss, and the liquor in his head told him one thing. he wasn't letting you go.

-

"ricciardo." horner said. he sighed and crossed his arms. he looked like a disappointment parent more than a boss.

daniel put his best smile on, hiding the looming anxiety. why was he called into horner's office like he was a school boy in trouble. he replied, "yes, mister horner."

"you're a good driver. a good man. i hold a great deal of respect for you. so tell me why my daughter has to extend her time at university because she has asked for a semester off?"

daniel raises his eyebrows, "because academia is hard?"

"no, daniel. because according to verstappen you left a party with my daughter and now she turns up pregnant." he sighed, but kept his gaze on the man in front of him, "i hope you know if you skip out on her, you'll be in a world of trouble."

daniel swallowed at the news. he got horner's daughter pregnant. he. got. you. pregnant. the electricity of the news made him stand up, he said loudly, "shit. i have to buy a ring!" he wasn't letting his child go without! he looked to horner and said, "i have to go. tell your daughter to meet me tonight! i'll have a ring for her, sir!" before he high tailed it out of the office.

horner dropped his shoulders. at least the kid was responsible. while he didn't know the details of exactly how you ended up in bed with his driver. but it could've been a lot worse. as he rubbed his temples, it could've been worse. it could've been verstappen. <3

[doodler16]

This might be a long one so heads up.

So one of things about the last episode of HB that I wish they would do better with is Milly and blitz relationship is showing the down fall or toxicity of that relationship.  mainly, how does relationship affects Millie split and shit before husband? 

Remember, the Pilot when Millie said “moxie That’s are boss” oh, some of the head cannons that maybe Millie knows how sad and lonely blitz is and feel sorry for him, so she kind of allowed him to be part of their lives. Without thinking twice how much this is also, affecting Moxie. I would love it if Moxie and Millie’s First fight would be about Blitz and how he continue to stalk and harass them well millie just laugh it off and just said “oh it just Blitz being Blitz.” Moxie have enough and tells Millie to stop enabling Blitz.

Now I want Both the M&M to be in the right but also in the wrong.

Millie; She wants everyone to get along with each other because she view IMP as a family much like her own family. She want them to stay together and get along, so she always play peacemaker, but doing that allow people to walk all over her husband, well, she does nothing, and just stand in the background supporting him, but not standing up for him.

Moxie; he does need to stop being overly sensitive all the time . Let’s his boss do what he wants sometimes but that doesn’t mean he have every right to sent boundaries and stand up to himself whenever he needs to.

 I want Moxie and Millie discussion about Blitz behavior or at least give us some hints about then talk about blitz behavior, watch season one leading to the event of Ozzie and the aftermath. Where Moxie right fully so finally snaps and yells at Blitz. Now as we all know Blitz is dealing with own problems after the event of Ozzie. So now not the best time for Moxie to get mad at Blitz.

This is how the argument, Will go

Mox; “I can’t believe you stocks use Again. During me and Millie Anniversary sir.”

B; oh, please you should be thanking me for saving your puny sorry ass that I even came. It wasn’t me coming. You would have been getting tomatoes and dildos all over you by now but you’re awful singing. 

Mil; he does have a good point Mox he did help us.

Mox; Stop, Standing up for him why do you always choose his side?

Mil; i’m not on his side and I’m on both of you guys side and I think you are being a bit too harsh on him moxie He’s is are bo-

Mox; do not end it with he’s are boss. He also your best friend And ask your friend you should send boundaries towards him.

Mil; Well he doesn’t have a lot of family or friends, Moxie also kind of funny how he always pop out of nowhere if you think about it. Like the time went when you were in the shower and he pop out of nowhere we with the camera saying wow it’s must be your birthday moxie. Haha.

B; Yeah, Moxie in a my fault that you have a different sense of humor over your wife great Taste And and that you your taste is as small dumb and puny ass, you dick and brain.

Moxie finally have enough storms out of the room had to The door where Luna is on the front of the desk doing nothing be eating a whole bag of chips and watching something on her phone , Give Moxie , another fat joke about how fat he is. Moxie then heads straight to Luna grab the chips and rip it in front of her telling her she needs to lay of the chip and watch her hips for now on. He then went to back to the door and yelled “F@ck you all the quit.”

This will lead to an all night fight with the M&M the company now having a bit of a crisis since Moxee was the only one who knows how to do paperwork and taxes. Leading to Luna to most of the work and because Luna is a spoiled brat, she will get mad at blitz to making her to do paperwork and causing Moxxie to quit even though she was no better to.  this will also leave to Blitz superior complex to go even higher, thinking he did nothing wrong, and Moxie is just being a baby about it. as for Millie, it will lead to her now doing double the work of being a assassin. Which will take a turn for her And blitz Relationship. 

 This will be an actual way to show Blitz that his actions does have affect on others Instead Of the show just telling us. Oh, Blitz your heart everyone to love you. anyway that all I needed to say thank you and good bye.

I wish Vivziepop and the writers went in more depth with Blitz and Millie’s dynamic like they do with Blitz and Moxxie. All we know is that Millie is used too and sometimes enables Blitz’s shenanigans. The only conclusion I think of why she doesn’t mind Blitz being a weirdo probably because it reminds of her family and how it’s a big household, so there’s no opportunity for anyone to get alone time or space.

Classice, I am glad you mentioned Moxxie, Millie, Blitz’s argument because I imagined something similar to that. Moxxie would call out Blitz, Millie, and Loona’s behaviors and treatment over previous episodes and the double standards then officially quit but it’s not like a joking “I quit” then comes back immediately.

It’s more somewhat permanent but there would be consequences on both sides. Moxxie realize that he can’t do everything himself, tries to run his own business is way harder, and gets stressed because he doesn’t have the charisma that Blitz has. Blitz, Millie, and Loona (mainly Loona and Blitz) slowly realize that they need Moxxie because he unironically makes things interesting and they all suck with paper work and end up being behind or just avoiding it. Meanwhile, Millie tries to appeases to both sides but fails and Loona, Moxxie, and Blitz gets upset at her.

Despite the team being separated, they both get the same client and are forced to fight each other to get to the main target. This would demonstrate that Moxxie has improved his fighting skills and can be cold-hearted to his teammates, fighting dirty and not taking any chances to go soft. Millie doesn’t want to hurt Moxxie and purposely go into the way of Moxxie, Blitz, and Loona’s fighting.

Loona and Blitz still fighting Moxxie but noticed Moxxie’s improvement, etc. They all sooner or later make up and apologize to Moxxie because of Millie (apparently she’s the heart of the team, Vivziepop’s words not mine 😂). All these characters promise to be better and stick to it. Because of this instance they grow stronger and more open.

Regardless, I hope they do this and it has so much potential but at the same time it’s too kind of too late. Should’ve been at least a 3 part season 1 finale or early season 2 conflict. It gives the show stakes and forces the audience to care of what happens to the future of IMP along with addressing every character’s flaws especially Blitz’s. Anyway, I loved reading this and the dialogue you created: it fits the characters perfectly and truly shows how much potential the IMP squad has but was wasted it on telling us instead of showing.

[yanderambling]

Hi! Can I please request an Innocent! Yandere x Knowledgable! Reader????

maybe yandere doesn't know why they feel this way, about YOU of all people. Reader knows exactly what's going on, and only encourages our dear sweet yandere, because they just look so adorable as they hold you so close, begging you to never leave them!!!

(p.s. if you're accepting emoji anons, could I be 👾?)

yes yes YES you get me and i hope i got you here because i LOVE LOVE LOVE this!!!! this kinda got away with me so i may come back to make it more coherent later but i just can't keep it to myself anymore! also p.s. to 👾: i do read your messages and they always bring a smile to my face! you're really so kind, thank you so much for your endless support it means more than you could know!! (also i'm gonna be responding to asks/messages as i get back into the swing of things so nobody think you've been forgotten!) okok i'm done now i hope you enjoy!!<3

concept: Innocent!Yandere(gn) x Enabler!Reader(gn)

words: ~2.1k

CW: 18+, mild NSFW, yandere behavior, manipulation, delusional thinking, scent spit sweat and all that fun gross stuff

Ren is a master of self-control.

They’ve had to become one ever since meeting you, and it has not been an easy undertaking.

Their entire reality was thrown out the window with just your polite greeting smile, their soul left their body when your hand shook theirs; they still swear they could feel your sheer radiance emanating from just your palm.

Something in them changed that day, something beautiful and grotesque and visceral, and it’s only getting worse in the days that follow.

They get frustrated with themself frequently, especially in the beginning. Why can’t they just be normal about you?

Why does your very presence cause their body to get so hot and feverish, their legs losing all strength as their heartbeat roars in their ears until all they can even think of is you you you?

Why does your voice send their stomach flipping and their skin tingling with goosebumps? Why can’t they stop imagining it saying all these different disgusting, perverted things to them?

Why can they never find words when you talk to them, why are they constantly stammering and spluttering their way through conversations as they try not to melt at your fond, just-this-side-of-condescending smile?

Why does every part of you fill their head with incoherent, overwhelmingly lustful thoughts? Why do they want to lick across your stomach, to run their teeth over your arms, to bury their face in your armpit until their lungs and body and mind are full of only you?

Why do they get the urge to pick your chewed gum from the trashcan and suck on it to know what your spit tastes like? Why does it taste so good? Why can’t they stop doing it?

(Why did you suddenly start chewing gum so much more often?)

Every interaction with you is a test of willpower, and the difficulty only rises as the two of you grow closer.

The first time you invited Ren to your house, they could've collapsed right there (they almost did, but you caught their arm with an easy grin that had them hurrying off to the bathroom, clutching the burning spots your fingers had occupied).

Of course, it wasn't the first time they'd been to your place. They'd actually held off a full week before they gave in to the urge to follow you home (you were almost offended it had taken that long).

But it's different being here with your knowledge, and being inside where it smelled like you, where your personality oozed from every decoration and knick-knack that populated the place, where your skin cells and sweat have soaked into the furniture- something about the proximity brings out the worst in them, they can't help but bury their face in your couch cushions every time you leave the room, they hope they're subtle enough while sliding their tongue over the armrests when you look away (they are not).

They aren't proud of the whole ‘breaking-and-entering’ thing, but they have gotten pretty good at it (once you adjusted your security system and locks to account for them, of course. They still don’t know about the hidden cameras around your home that you watch back in the mornings; they look so adorable when they’re sneaking about!).

Not a night has gone by without them watching over your slumber since their first visit. It's just too tempting, the sight of you sleeping so peacefully, spread out and lax with your mouth slightly open, a thin line of drool trailing your lip that they so terribly need to taste- and, besides, it's also for your safety! With how easy it was for them to get in here, who knows what kinds of creeps might try something when you're so vulnerable?

Really, they have to be in here to defend you from potential intruders!

(Ren is the first and only person you’ve ever gotten a security alert for.)

They feel guilty for stealing from you, too; it keeps them up at night, beyond what their souvenirs do, but they just can’t stop. It started small, just old lip balms and drink bottles, nothing you would miss, but these crumbs of your presence mean the world to them, and each one just leaves them wanting more.

So, gradually, against every decent instinct in their body, Ren went for bigger prizes: an old pair of nail clippers, a notebook lying forgotten under your bed that looks like it’s been handled plenty, and, on a particularly bold occasion, they snagged one of your cheapest looking ‘toys’- just to have around! They swear! They don’t sleep with it jammed against their mouth or anything!

(Your toys are locked up now, you don’t have the disposable income to sustain that particular addiction. You’ve taken to buying cheaper underwear too, because you know you won’t be seeing them again once they come off your body. You have half a mind to ask for some higher-quality pieces back, but you don’t want to spoil the fun too soon; you're mostly just grateful they've been sparing with your outerwear, but who knows how long that'll last...)

Originally, they had hoped that satiating their appetite for you at home would make it easier to be near you, but it hasn't (you've made certain of that).

In fact, it's almost like they're getting more sensitive to you the longer they hang around; the littlest things will set them off now.

Just your hand on their shoulder to get their attention has them vibrating out of their skin, just your arm flexing as you open a door has drool pooling in their mouth, and when you lean around them to look at something, just your breath barely grazing their face has them biting back whimpers.

But it’s getting even worse as you two get more comfortable around each other, it’s harder and harder for Ren to remind themself to be normal when you keep letting them further into your life, as if they belong there.

How are they supposed to be normal when you invite them over for dinner? And how are they supposed to stay conscious when they find out you’re cooking it? And how are they supposed to keep their heart from beating out of their chest when they come over to see you puttering about the kitchen like a snapshot from one of their domestic wet dreams? And how are they supposed to stay on their feet, to keep from choking on a litany of moans and whimpers, when you raise your sauce-covered finger to their mouth and say ‘taste’? And how are they supposed to not hyperventilate in your bathroom for a half hour afterward as they desperately relieve themself through their pants?

It's downright unreasonable.

And then there's the cuddling.

Ren knows that friends can cuddle, that there's nothing inherently sexual or romantic about intimate physical contact, but their body does not get the message.

It's the sweetest form of torture they've ever been subjected to.

It was innocent enough at first, you’d wrap an arm around them or lay your head on their shoulder, and that alone would send them catatonic. But when you first laid in their lap, Ren felt each neuron in their brain short-circuit as every nerve-ending in their body was lit ablaze- it took a good while for them to convince themself they weren't dreaming (this quickly became your favorite spot).

Soon, though, Ren would wish they dreaming, if only to save them the humiliation (they wouldn't really, they'd never give up a second of your presence, no matter how excrutiating).

They try to pull back, to be good, but it's so hard.

They can't help the way their body pushes into yours, like some magnetic force causing them to press closer closer closer. They can't stop their arms from wrapping around you, clinging to you so desperately like your the only thing anchoring them to earth, every square inch of their skin in contact with yours tingling and warm and right and they need more. They can't keep from pulling you closer, pressing harder, writhing against you like they're trying to squirm under your skin, their breaths coming heavier and faster as their movements get more frantic and discordant and fevered, their senses and thoughts tortuously and wonderfully overwhelmed with you and you and you.

Then they suddenly go very tense. Then they relax. And you turn up the TV as you settle more comfortably against them. And they try not to let the mess in their pants seep through.

They're doing their best.

By this point, Ren is just endlessly thankful that you haven't noticed their... affliction yet. They often feel guilty about taking advantage of your trust and kindness, but they can’t help feeling lucky too.

For the most part.

Your friends know, Ren is fairly certain, but they can’t just leave you be whenever you spend time with other people, and you don’t seem to mind how standoffish and clingy they are when you’re out together anyway.

(Your friends have raised several concerns, but you just like the feeling of being the center of Ren’s attention no matter who or what is around you, and feeling their hands tighten on your arm whenever a friend gets too close, and watching their breathing quicken as the jealousy steadily overcomes them, and maybe even watching a more touchy acquaintance squirm under Ren’s intense stare until they leave early, and then never questioning why that acquaintance is suddenly nowhere to be seen again. It’s really none of your concern, let alone your friends’.)

Ren tries not to let other people get them too nervous, they just remind themself how easygoing and nonchalant you’ve been since the beginning; if they haven’t scared you off themself yet, your friends probably won’t have much better luck.

You seem to have no qualms with spending every waking hour with them, save for when you lock the bathroom door behind you. You met them with a familiar wave and smile the first time they showed up at your work unannounced, and then the same each time after that. You didn’t even blink when they stuttered their way around a request to share locations, you just shrugged an affirmative and grabbed their phone from their trembling hands.

You’ve never confronted them about the things that go missing after nearly every visit to your home (you know they can’t help themself, and they just look too cute when they’re desperately tucking your toothbrush into their bag like they can’t stop their fingers!), you never give a second glance when you seem to catch them sneaking a photo of you (they’re laughably unsubtle, it’s all you can do to save their pride in the moment each time), you never comment on how feverish and clammy they are whenever you touch them (except to ask if they’re feeling okay and drinking enough water, it’s so fun to watch them melt even further at just your expression of care), and you never even say anything about how often they ‘just happen’ to run in to you on the rare occasions they haven’t scheduled themself into your day (it’s always nice to see their watery smile and puppy dog eyes!).

Every time Ren thinks they’ve pushed too far, that they’ve exposed themself for being some kind of perverted stalker, you just give them this easy smile and go right along; they're actually a little concerned about your apparent naivety, they just count themself lucky that they found you before some ill-intentioned creep could.

It’s a tightrope walk the whole way, constantly unsure of what minor misstep will end up revealing the depths of their obsession and doing them in, but Ren can’t keep themself away from you.

One day, they’ll learn to cope, to be normal and palatable and right, and then they can tell you how they feel. Then the two of you can have a proper relationship, like none of this mess ever happened with them. Then they can tell you that they love you without feeling guilt twisting their gut, and then you can say it back without them agonizing over tainting it, and then you two can finally be together, the right way.

And Ren is certain that they'll get there, though it may be hard and grueling and nigh-impossible, it will happen.

Because Ren loves you, horribly and all-consumingly, and they are a master of self-control.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

A Popstar Grian AU - Ari AU (Part One)

Or, @angeart and I put Grian through a lot of pain for no good reason.

Hello! Like two people showed interest in my post about Ari AU, thus here we are. This is not really a 'fic', but it isn't a short summary either. Let your mind go wild. Let your imagination be free. Read my words, boy.

This is Part One. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Part Four is here. Part Five is here. The tag for this is #ari au.

But before we start, some introductory things you should know.

This is scarian. Don't read if you do not like scarian.

Grian uses he/she pronouns and is transfem genderqueer, I tend to default to she as it helps differentiate her from other characters a lot, but I mix it up.

I somewhat based this AU on attitudes towards celebrities / stars from the 2000s - present day, so this can be read as a period piece in some ways... This concept started with the song 'The Fear' by Lily Allen. I recommend giving it a listen.

This is the "real world", so no hybrids, no respawn, no "code", etc.

CONTENT WARNINGS for this Part: stalking, physical assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, mentions of vomit, hospitals, me autismposting about music genres.

You can always stop reading! The AU starts out pretty tame and gradually gets, well, worse. But I promise it has a hopeful ending! Eventually!

(also please ask me questions, send ideas, reblog, comment, etc. because I love this AU a lot) (and thank you to Ange for enabling me and adding amazing scenes to this au)

Album One: ‘Sunshine Sedative’

Grian, better known by her stage name ‘Ari’, is a popular singer-songwriter embarking on a world tour to promote her latest album, Sunshine Sedative. The album is indie pop-y and bright, exploring themes of romance, self-empowerment, and subtle references to gender and sexuality. Grian’s style on-stage is hyper-feminine, flashy, and fashionable. He’s known to be a bit prickly, demanding, and stubborn off-stage, slow to warm up to the people around him.

The tour bus carries both Grian and her key crew. Pearl (marketing, PR and organisational work), Impulse (costumes and tech), and Mumbo (tech assistant and main contact for Grian’s manager). Though Grian likes to self-manage, preferring to do her own make-up and plan the set-lists for her own shows. 

Recently, Grian has been running into some issues with stalker fans and online haters, receiving some threatening messages on social media. Mumbo tries not to let him doomscroll on his phone too much, even going so far as to confiscate the phone while on tour. This is Grian’s biggest tour- no one was prepared for her to become a star or “indie darling” type- and the fans are… a bit crazy.

After the anonymous threats, Grian agrees to get a bodyguard. This is where Scar comes in. At first, Scar is a little terrified. The company he works for advised him not to annoy or upset Grian, and to always call her Miss Ari. Never disagree with her or do anything he isn’t contracted to do. 

Scar throws all of this out of the window pretty fast. Yes, Grian is especially difficult when they first meet, but Scar can tell it’s because Grian is stressed. About the tour, about the fame, about the threats. 

A show results in Grian getting a sore throat, and Scar offers her some tea with honey, rambling on about how his mother used to make it for him when he was sick. Grian begrudgingly takes the tea, and tells Scar to just call her Grian from then on. She’s not a fan of the blurring of her private and public life.

Eventually, Grian gets bored enough to rant to Scar about how Mumbo won’t let him use his phone anymore, and Scar offers to sneak it back to him. They have a laugh scrolling through celebrity news and playing silly games together. Then they get found out and both get a stern talking to from Mumbo and Impulse. (Pearl laughs at them in the background).

As Grian’s tour starts selling out, more tour dates are added, extending their time on the road. Scar continues to sneak Grian’s phone to her, pushing her to have fun rather than scroll through hate messages. It seems like a peak moment for Grian, delighted by the idea that she has so many fans, and beginning to develop a bit of a crush on Scar. Grian even starts acting a little nicer.

Tabloids and Stalkers

The fame comes with more caveats than Grian anticipated. One day, while Scar and Grian are reading some dumb article on Grian’s phone, she receives a random message from a burner account. It’s a picture of Grian, through a hotel window, half dressed. Grian recognises the hotel, one they stayed in a few nights ago just to get away from the tour bus.

Someone knew she would be there. Knew what room she would be staying in. There is a vaguely ominous / threatening message attached. It makes Grian never want to step foot outside again. It makes her feel sick. Suddenly she can’t focus on anything around her.

He has a panic attack. 

Later, as Grian is pacing the floor of the bus, he’s told not to make an announcement about the stalker. She decides herself not to go to the police, and, after some hesitation, not to cancel the tour. They can’t disappoint all those people. 

Over the next few shows, Grian gets closer to Scar. Both because they get along so well, and because Scar is there to protect her. He's clumsy and funny and once he starts talking about something he likes, it’s hard to get him to stop. Grian finds him incredibly endearing and, more importantly, incredibly safe. 

But things are bad. Grian can’t even go to a public bathroom without Scar checking to make sure no one is waiting for her. He feels constantly watched, constantly on-edge, constantly afraid. The paparazzi don’t exactly make it easier.

Tabloids love Ari. She’s a superstar, a real diamond in the rough who came from nothing. They’re obsessed. Anything she does in public can make a tabloid front page. As the tour goes on and her songs rocket up the charts, it only gets worse. The flashes of the cameras have started to scare him.

Scar is an angel, dealing with the paparazzi professionally and confidently. He stands in front of Grian and chases the cameras off. But it feels like they can’t go anywhere. They can’t do anything. Even when they stop at another hotel, Grian can’t tell if the people outside are stalkers or journalists.

The pictures on the tabloid front pages are no longer stunning shots from the shows, but rather blurry snaps of Grian trying to escape the cameras. Images of Grian, wide-eyed and scared by the surprise of a camera flash, before she could put on a fake smile. Grian, through a window in the parked tour bus, with teary eyes. Even private moments are no longer private.

Media outlets start to pay for more intimate photos- anything the journalists might get fired for trying to snap themselves. It gives the stalkers (there are certainly multiple, now) more incentive. Grian keeps the curtains closed in every building he visits, and draws the tiny blinds on the bus. 

Relationship Goals?

In the meantime, Grian’s crush on Scar is getting more obvious, but she’s afraid to say anything. Dragging Scar into this, with all the harassment he would face if they revealed they were together, isn’t what Grian wants. She flinches away when Scar offers a comforting touch, not wanting to risk a photograph. 

Scar is the one, then, who takes the initiative. He sits with Grian on her little fold-out bed at the back of the tour bus, all curtains drawn and the door closed. He holds her close and tells her firmly that no one is going to see them here. They're traveling at 50mph on a motorway and no one can even see through the windows anyway. And that's maybe just enough for Grian to let himself lean into Scars touch. Admit his feelings. 

There’s a sense of shame he's carrying with them. He shouldn't have fallen for his bodyguard- someone who has to stay with him, contractually. She tries to say as much, going on and on about all the terrible risks Scar is bringing to himself by dating her, but Scar cuts Grian off by kissing her, anyway.

As soon as the media gets a hint of the relationship, things seem to go downhill. Diehard fans don’t react kindly to Grian’s choice of man, especially the ones who want to have her for themselves. Someone throws something at Scar when Grian is leaving a show, hitting him on the head. It isn’t a bad injury, but it bleeds a lot, and Grian only feels worse about it when Scar insists he’s okay.

Actual Bodily Harm

The fans seem to get more… intense. Stalking and threats of harm increase, while the fans' behaviour at shows seems to get worse. As the tour is nearing its final few weeks, people start to throw things onto the stage. The first time it happens, Grian cuts the set short without anyone really noticing. The next time, someone throws a glass bottle, and she walks off. 

He tries not to make a big fuss about it, simply leaving without playing a single song. She feels awful, of course, for leaving the normal fans without a show. Perhaps they should refund the tickets, or something. She doesn’t even notice the glass shards in her foot until Scar points them out, horrified. 

Pearl convinces Grian to take a picture of the injury and make a PSA post on social media. Even when the adrenaline wears off, Grian’s resulting breakdown seems subdued. 

No one throws anything at the next few shows, except for a trans pride flag. Grian wears it as a cape, and feels amazing, for once, hearing the cheers and screams of joy at the gesture. She loves that she can be a symbol of hope and love for so many people. It’s even enough of a boost to get him acting more like himself again in private: mischievous, bright, and creative. 

It is near the end of the tour when things go completely, utterly wrong again. Grian and the crew all go to a bar after a show, to celebrate the last week of the tour. Three more shows, and then it’s over. Grian is in somewhat normal clothes, compared to his usual getup, but still puts on his persona just in case they've been followed by the paparazzi (again).

Everyone's having a nice time, drinking a little and hanging out. As always, it is nice to be getting away from the bus. Pearl and Impulse buy far too many shots, much to Mumbo’s dismay. Grian laughs and jokes and raises her voice, not caring if she’s croaky the next day. 

He doesn't notice someone watching him from across the room. Doesn't notice them slip something into her drink when she goes up to the bar. She pays for another pint, and they strike up conversation. Giddily, she chats with them, rambling about how good life has suddenly become. As he sips his drink, he doesn’t register how focused on him they are. How their dark eyes don’t leave him once.

It’s fine, until she stumbles, on the way back to the booth everyone's sitting at, and the stranger catches her before she can fall with strong arms. They're talking, but Grian isn't really listening. She’s nodding along and mumbling about needing to get back to the booth. Back to her friends.

It feels wrong. They keep hold of her shoulders. They're saying something about getting her home safe. Something about how they've been waiting for this…

He realises what’s happening far too late. Panic clutches her chest for a split second. Long enough for him to call out for Scar. She's already being manhandled out of the door before Scar comes to her rescue. Thankfully, by a miracle, close enough to hear the cry for help.

Grian knows something happens to the stranger, because they're on the floor and bleeding. Voices buzz, muffled, around Grian. There are more hands on her. She doesn’t like it. Her head hurts. Scar’s hand is bloody as he hugs her. Grian passes out.

Hospital Visit One

The crew, quite obviously, take Grian to the hospital. He was drugged, and it’s clear what the perpetrator wanted to do. It shakes them all, left wondering whether the creep knew who Grian was, or just randomly targeted a drunk stranger on a night out. Either way, none of them want to go near a bar any time soon.

On the way to the hospital, the press capture pictures of Grian unconscious, or half-awake with no awareness, and by the time the morning rolls in, the papers are already speculating about addiction and ‘gone wild’ narratives. When Grian wakes up, still slightly delirious, he's told, hesitantly, by Pearl, that they have to release a statement soon in order to clear his name and control the narrative. Grian can’t find it in herself to cry about what happened.

Before any statements are made, the police come to talk to Grian. They arrested the perpetrator and searched their house, not that it’ll result in much. They show Grian pictures of rope, duct tape, knives, and a poster from her tour. 

Feeling numb, Grian takes a moment to go throw up in a bin, then tells her team she wants to make a statement now. She wants it recorded, as she is, now. Pearl and Mumbo try to argue that it really isn't a good idea, without a script and looking… bad, but Scar and Impulse back Grian’s choice. Reluctantly, Mumbo grabs one of the nice cameras from his car- the bus was far too conspicuous to park at a hospital- and they record.

They don't know what Grian’s going to say, but, put basically, the video explains everything that has happened- from the stalkers to the glass to the drugging- and apologises to the fans who did nothing wrong. And even the fans who just wanted to know some gossip, because they weren't really to blame. Then she announces that she's cancelling the rest of the tour. 

Mumbo shuts off the camera. Everyone apart from Scar is a bit shocked. Incredulous. Shouldn’t they talk about this? Is it worth it to cancel at the last hurdle? Scar cuts off the protests, pointing out how insensitive it is to try and make Grian perform after everything. Grian stays quiet as Scar somewhat lectures the others. It’s a rambling mess of an argument, but it works. They apologise. 

The statement video is posted online, and Grian is left to rest. Scar remains at his side.

Once Grian is checked over and discharged, they get back to the bus fast. She retreats to her closed-off space at the back of the bus, telling everyone to get on with their jobs. Once she's alone, she replays the images the police showed her in her mind. He thinks about what could have happened. He thinks about the stranger's hands on his shoulders and at his hips. She remembers that she started out just wanting to make music, and she cries.

[moghraidhs]

wheel of time zizibenny be upon ye ;) couldn't have done this without some enabling so thank you killy!! i had a blast with this

enjoy :))

They're talking about her again.

Zizi can't hear them, but she can see them. The novices, whispering behind their hands. The sisters, from her own ajah and others, watching her with drawn brows and narrowed eyes.

She shifts the daggers in her palms and looks away, back to Gale. "Again."

They've been doing this almost every day for the past few months, ever since she came back to the Tower. Zizi knows the whispers are directed as much at her training with an unbonded warder as with actual weapons instead of the One Power, but she doesn't care. Gale is as stubborn as she is, refusing to make things easy for her, and he doesn't ask any questions. Not even about why she's training with him instead of Benny.

Zizi doesn't want to think about Benny. She doesn't want to think about anything. That's why she's here.

She takes a deep breath and adjusts her stance. "Ready."

Thrust, parry, deflect. After all this time, it's become a comforting rhythm. Easy not to think. She likes that. Even with the Power humming under her skin, practically begging to be used.

She ignores it. She's gotten very good at ignoring things.

"Sister Zizi?"

Though she recognises the voice, Zizi doesn't turn around. Not until the third time, and then she moves as deliberately as possible. "Yes?"

Sister Evyla's narrow lips have all but disappeared, pressed together as they are. "Perhaps you would like to assist me in a demonstration? There are a few novices who require instruction." She gestures to a gaggle of wide-eyed girls behind her, watching Zizi warily.

Zizi wonders how much they know. For a place that prides itself on secrecy, rumours spread in the Tower like a disease. Besides, it's not as if she doesn't have the scars.

"You're one of the strongest in the Red Ajah," Evyla presses. "And it's not as if we couldn't use the numbers. A demonstration might help some of these novices decide where they want to go after their Test."

Show me what you can do.

Zizi reaches up to her neck before she can stop herself.

Nothing there. Just like yesterday and the day before, but that doesn't stop her from feeling it anyway. Cool metal against her skin. Blinding pain.

She hands the daggers back to Gale and reaches for her outer robe before answering. "No."

Evyla's dishwater-pale eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"No." Perhaps it's wrong of her, but Zizi takes a malicious delight in the shock on the older woman's face. "I have other things to do."

She starts to walk past, but Evyla's hand shoots out and grips her arm. "It's been months. The Amyrlin might have told us to be patient, but there are limits to what even you are allowed."

The unexpected touch sends the world spinning, leaving Zizi teetering on the edge of dark emptiness. Evyla's words are lost to the roaring in her ears, the overwhelming urge to lash out and run.

"That's enough."

Zizi feels him more than hears him, the bond pushing awareness through her bloodstream and bringing her back to the present.

Benny moves between her and Evyla. For once, Zizi is glad of his height; the shelter of his broad back allowing her to regain some control. No one else needs to know just how close she had come to losing herself - again.

She takes advantage of Evyla's loosened grasp to jerk free. "The next time you put a hand on me I take it off. With the One Power. Will that be enough of a demonstration for you?"

Evyla's mouth drops open, but Zizi doesn't wait for her to answer. She brushes past Benny and heads towards the stairs, fists clenched tight at her sides.

She's free, but the touch still lingers. She wants to scrub it off, burn her robe and tear the skin raw. A reminder to herself to never let anyone lay a hand on her against her will again.

Footsteps echo on the stairs behind her and she stops. "You don't need to follow me, you know."

"I know."

Zizi turns around and then wishes she hadn't. The longing in his eyes is like a blade to her chest, carving through flesh and bone.

"So why are you doing it then?"

Benny shrugs. "What else should I do?"

She can feel him, hurt and love and devotion all at once and it's too much. Inviting her to break down when that is exactly the opposite of what she wants right now.

She steps closer. "Maybe I should mask the bond. Would that be enough for you to leave me in peace?"

It's cruel, and she knows it. Part of her readies itself for the fight, even as the other part cringes from the pain in his eyes, the knowledge that she's hurting him as much as herself.

Go on, she thinks. Tell me I can't do it. Give me a reason.

A reason not to fall apart.

He doesn't. Just looks at her as if he can see right down to her bones, then moves back out of her reach. "As you wish."

He turns and walks back down the stairs. Pain flares in Zizi's chest, almost cutting off her air.

She wants to call him back.

She doesn't.

~

Josie visits her the next day.

With over a dozen witnesses to what had happened in front of the training ground, Zizi had half been expecting to be called before the Amyrlin. What she hadn't expected was for the Amyrlin to come to her.

"You know, I should make you do penance for this. I always forget how long the walk is between your chamber and mine." Josie is smiling, but Zizi can see her eyes scanning the room - the smashed mirror, the abandoned robes, the empty hearth. With a graceful move of her hand, flames spark among the ashes, banishing the cold.

Zizi swipes her hands on her breeches awkwardly. "You could have just called me to the Hall."

"I could. But I think we've known each other too long for that." Josie looks at her. "What happened with you and Evyla?"

"She wanted me to channel for the novices. I said no."

"She claims you threatened her."

It's instinct that has Zizi baring her teeth, anger flaring before she allows herself to think about it. "She was lucky I didn't have my knives."

The words spit into the air, ugly and mean. There was a time, long before this, when Zizi would have died sooner than threaten a sister - even one as infuriating as Evyla. That time is long gone. She doesn't recognise herself now: an animal backed into the corner, snarling at the slightest movement. Just another part of all that had been taken from her. All that she'd let the Seanchan take from her.

"Zizi," Josie says gently, and Zizi realises with horror that her eyes and cheeks are wet. She turns away, scrubbing the traitorous tears from her face ruthlessly. Josie doesn't stop her, or try to touch her. She just stands there and waits, and for that Zizi is both humiliated and grateful.

"You should send me away," she says later, seated in front of the fire. Josie had had some food brought up and the remains now lie between them, along with some tea and spiced wine.

Josie brushes crumbs from her gown. She looks younger in the dim light, more like the girl who'd shared Zizi's dorm for months than the head of the entire White Tower. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't belong here anymore. Not after…" She touches her neck automatically, tries not to flinch. "I can't channel. I won't."

"No one is going to make you," Josie says quietly.

"I can feel the Power, but if I try…" Zizi stares into the flames. "I can't tell if it's me or not. If someone is making me do it. I won't let anyone make me do anything ever again."

"What about Benny?"

The mention of his name tugs at something under her skin, raw and wanting. She avoids Josie's gaze. "What do you mean?"

"You're rarely together these days. Do you want to break the bond? Start over?" Josie's voice is light and even. "Reds rarely bond warders, so I doubt anyone would question it if that was your decision."

Zizi's fingers dig into her palms. "He could die."

"He's dying right now." Josie doesn't raise her voice, but the words still feel like a slap. "When you were gone he was beside himself. All those stories we used to read about being warders lost to grief…right in front of our eyes. You're home now, and yet that pain hasn't gone away. For either of you."

Zizi closes her eyes. "He wasn't there."

"No, he wasn't. But he felt you nonetheless and he still does now." Josie sighs. "People like to say our lives are not our own - bound to the Tower, bound to serving the world around us. I'm not so certain I believe that, though. Our lives are not our own because they are bound up in the people we meet here. Friends. Lovers. Warders. You are a part of me as much as I am of you, but so is Benny. And I do not believe you want to cut him out."

Tears threaten once more and Zizi bites the inside of her cheek until it bleeds.

I'm afraid.

Josie's hand rises and Zizi feels herself tense, but the fire merely stirs to life again. "It's cold," the Amyrlin says. "I would rather not see you fall ill."

She smiles a little, and Zizi feels the gentle touch as clearly as if it had actually been given.

~

It's hard to sleep. Zizi blames it on the bed, a world away from the thin, hard mattress in a Seanchan cell. The kind they'd given her after she'd broken.

She sits up, nausea swirling in her stomach. Barely manages to make it to the basin on the washstand before she throws up.

After, she goes downstairs. The tower is quiet at night, but there always people around: sisters returning from or going on journeys, the occasional novice working out their penance, a sleepy servant or two. No one seems to notice her, or if they do they pretend not to.

Zizi doesn't mind. Her throat still burns and she can feel herself trembling, reflexive little shocks running through her body. She wants…She doesn't know what. Doesn't want to admit it, even in thought.

She finds Benny in the training yard, practicing. He doesn't see her at first, but his dog does. The huge animal, part wolf apparently, pads softly over to her, nudging at her hip with his nose.

Zizi crouches down and strokes through soft grey fur. As if sensing her distress, the dog nuzzles closer and whines.

"Zizi."

Sand scrapes beneath Benny's feet. He sits down next to her, close, but not enough to touch.

Zizi doesn't look up. She doesn't dare. "I couldn't sleep."

"I couldn't either."

Silence.

"You were scared," Benny says at last. "I could feel it. Are you alright?"

Zizi looks at him then. Really lets herself look, for the first time since coming back.

He looks tired. Has more stubble than before, cheeks hollowed in. His eyes are the same though: kind, even with fresh pain swirling in their depths.

"I don't know," she says. "I'm not sure…I know what that means anymore."

The tears break through at last. She's too tired to squash them.

She can feel Benny watching her, feel him holding back even as the echo of her pain travels through him. He won't touch her, Zizi knows. Not unless she wants him to.

Somehow, that knowledge gives her the courage to move closer.

It takes several moments and more than a few steadying breaths, but eventually she gets close enough.

He doesn't move.

Tentatively, Zizi rests her head on his shoulder. Braces for the worst.

There's no pain. Nothing bad happens. For some reason that makes her cry harder.

She's not sure how long it goes on, but it's a while. Benny stays the whole time.

~

"I can't channel anymore," she says after it's over. There's a bittersweet relief in saying it at last, after carrying the fear around in her chest for so long. "I can still touch the source, but I…I don't want to channel. Not yet."

Maybe not ever. That part remains unspoken, but he hears it anyway. Like she knew he would.

"You're still an Aes Sedai," he says. "And I'm still your warder."

"I'm sorry. For earlier. I don't want to break the bond." Admitting it feels like weakness. Zizi forces herself past the yawning chasm of fear to say the words regardless. "I don't want to lose you again."

Benny presses a kiss to her hair, so light she almost thinks she imagined it. "I'm here. As long as you want me."

Always. She doesn't say it. It's late, and she's never been one for foolish admissions. This peace is new, fragile, but it feels better than anything has these past few months. Like a beginning.

She closes her eyes and lets herself doze. If there are nightmares, at least she's not alone.

[seventeenlovesthree]

Digi Dynamic Shipping Game

Send me two names among the following 12 and I’ll write a short analysis post about them:

Taichi Yagami | Yamato Ishida | Sora Takenouchi | Koushirou Izumi | Mimi Tachikawa | Jyou Kidou | Takeru Takaishi | Hikari Yagami | Daisuke Motomiya | Miyako Inoue | Iori Hida | Ken Ichijouji

Whether canon provides input on them or not.

Unfortunately I didn't make it before the end of Pride Month, but - while there are a lot of potentially queer ships in the subtext of the Digimon universe that fit the tone, there aren't as many of them that came this close to technically being confirmed as having a valid (canon) baseline as this one.

To ask if canon provides input on Daisuke and Ken - or Daiken, Kensuke, Daisuken, however you want to call them -, is, once again, like asking if water is wet; they're the most elaborated relationship in the entirety of Digimon Adventure 02, the majority of Ken's development is tied to his bond to Daisuke... If you want to read more about why I value their relationship so much, I definitely recommend this post here, because they're just... Endlessly fascinating to me.

The good-hearted goofball with self-esteem issues that lead him to play a role to impress others initially - meets a corrupted genius and literally slaps the darkness out of his system. They turn from fated rivals to fated partners, facing the powers of darkness together and eventually, they become better people in the process thanks to one another. Daisuke's entire priority system changes upon wanting to give Ken a chance, he not only becomes more honest and less defensive, but also lets his personal sense of courage and friendship shine through; Ken, who's initially reluctant to take the hand Daisuke is offering him due to all the guilt he feels, slowly but steadily becomes the kind and gentle soul that was always within him, because there is someone by his side who has his back. Always.

It's a beautiful story of two complementing souls, whose bond enables the first real Jogress evolution, despite the fact - or even because - they couldn't be any more different. It's a story of repentance, forgiveness, learning to befriend others despite your own trauma and differences - and the story of a romantic subtext that almost hits you in the face if you're not careful enough. There is a reason why the screenshot above exists - the most recent movie literally acknowledged that, even after all these years, the bond between Daiken has not vanished and has, instead, gained a somewhat (actively) flirtatious nuance. While it used to be Ken who blushed due to Daisuke's (oftentimes oblivious) bluntness, the same Ken is now forward enough to openly praise Daisuke in ways that make it impossible to overlook the potential implications here - well, for anybody who isn't Daisuke himself at least...

Whether I think why and how they’d work.

Given the circumstances that we're, unfortunately, not talking about a canonically confirmed ship, we just gotta pretend that there will be a day when Ken's attempts of asking Daisuke out will be answered in two potential ways: 1.) "Huh? YOU WERE FLIRTING WITH ME THE ENTIRE TIME????" or 2.) "Huh? I thought we were together this entire time anyway???" Because both of these would be somewhat plausible "Daisuk-esque" reactions in my opinion.

I thoroughly believe that these two would work out romantically in fantastic ways - even though it'd take a lot of work, but which relationship that intends to last doesn't? They both chose careers that require enormous amounts of time and energy - and very irregular working hours. Granted, the latter applies to the majority of the Chosen Children, but an aspiring chef of his own Ramen cart may only be able to see an aspiring police officer if the latter's break time allows him to grab a meal at a Ramen facility that is coincidentally very close by... Gate hopping may have made that a lot easier, but at this point, we don't even know if that is still a thing anymore.

I still maintain that, as much as they'd be married to their jobs, they both still have quite a romantic side to themselves once the curse is broken - so they would make time, just like they did throughout all these years. While their interests in general might also be quite different, they would always find a way to bond over their mutual love for sports, football in particular. Ken needs someone who pulls him out of his head - and Daisuke needs someone who grounds him, which, as The Beginning suggested, is (basically) exactly their dynamic. They always enjoy group gatherings with their friend groups, food tastings are always a reason for Daisuke to invite everybody over - especially to lure Ken away from work. And let's be real, I can also see them go on cheesy dates - that mostly consist of them doing sporting activities (any kind of ball sport, rollerskating, hiking) where Daisuke can (pretend to) be competitive and Ken knowingly plays along with the teasing, just so they have an excuse to be close. Because they'd be cheesy like that, oh Lord, they'd be so cheesy in the most wanna-be-bro way possible.

Whether I’d prefer them as platonic or romantic ship.

In a universe in which Miyaken doesn't become canon, there is literally no reason for Daiken not to be endgame - unless the writers actually had some guts and turned them into an official OT3 in The Beginning. Of course I can always enjoys them as just platonic life partners, bros 4 life, you don't even have to give it a label, as long as they remain as close as they are. Because they simply belong together, one way or another.

[pocketmania]

🦑 Haihai !! It's vivi I have ideas now !!

I've been thinking about sending more, but I haven't had ideas that I could do, I really love your writing there !!🩷

So so sooo! I got the idea of agian shiver x frye with a partner that's an insomniac? Like they act energetic like they had sweets, but they often can't sleep they just don't talk about it much, they're sweet, loving, and love affection, bur often fake being asleep late at night if one of them are awake :3

Kyaaa!! Hello vivi! Thank you thank you thank you for the support ^^

I'm glad you've got ideas again! Just like 🍊 anon, your requests are always super interesting :0

For this one I'll be doing headcanons since it seems like the best formatting (if that's alright)

Now onto the thingy

‎‧₊˚✧[ Shiver and

Frye w/ an Insomniac!

Reader ]✧˚₊‧

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

(🔫🎨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💭) - splatoon headcanons

(reader type) - gender neutral

(‼️warnings) - none ✨️

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

♨ You, Shiver, and Frye have been dating for about 2 years

♨ Which means that Shiver and Frye have both somewhat memorized your sleep schedule by now

♨ you've got a reaaaallyy bad case of insomnia that started when you were in your teens and followed you into adulthood

♨ you don't often talk about it, though, which Shiver actually hates

♨ Frye does the job of monitoring your caffeine intake to make sure you get to bed on time

♨ ❝ AH—! Hold it! That's your 3rd cup today. Give it here. ❞

♨ sometimes, if one of them is up late, you'll fake being asleep so they don't worry

♨ let's say that Shiver was up late at night, badgering their producer about their latest gig on the phone

♨ you were in bed, facing the door and staring at basically nothing. every time Shiver passed by your door, you'd quickly shut your eyes and pretend to be asleep

♨ eventually, you'd fall asleep for real

♨ Shiver usually asks you about how you slept in the morning

♨ ❝ Morning, (N/N). How'd ya sleep? ❞

♨ Since you don't really like talking about your sleep schedule, you always give a lazy response

♨ ❝ Good. I slept well. ❞

♨ Shiver was, like, so surprised to learn you have insomnia considering you're as hyper as Frye

♨ Like, energetic in a way that she needs to put you both on a leash and keep you at an arm's distance away from each other because you enable one another

♨ but trust me when I say that these two are pretty concerned for your well-being

♨ you are their s/o, of course

♨ going back to what i said earlier, Shiver and Frye both caught onto your little "fake-sleep" ploy due to a little slip-up on your part

♨ cue the montage

♨ they'd like. stand over you to make sure you're actually sleeping

♨ ❝ (Y/N)... (Y/N)! Are you sleeping? ❞

♨ ❝ I WAS. ❞

♨ while Shiver tried to pry details about your insomnia, Frye went out and bought melatonin gummies for you

♨ being honest, Big Man gave her the idea

♨ Since she knows you like gummies and sweet things, she thought these were perfect for you

♨ so, while you were getting ready not to go to bed, she popped her head into the doorway and gave you the gummies

♨ you didn't think much of it, so you took them

♨ you slept. like a ROCK.

♨ soooo despite you not really being used to sleeping so well (and not really liking it), they were really proud of you!

♨ it was a fresh start

♨ ba dum tss

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[lily-alphonse]

Since you've mentioned it -- what's your take on Halex? They somehow simultaneously make sense and don't make sense to me. Maybe this is what makes them a good ship. I was wondering what are your ideas about their dynamics? :)

Y'all are enabling the hell out of me istg lmao

Pretty sure this is in reference to this post where I mention having a Halex agenda. I have posted about them before but it was a few months ago.

Okay so picture this. Haley has a bit of a reputation as dumb and mean.

She is actually smart, but refuses to try to understand things that she sees as irrelevant to her or boring. So she won't pay attention in math class but she will be able to estimate the total cost of a dress with tax minus the sale discount all in her head.

She is a genius at Instagram, getting a decent following pretty quickly.

She is good at reading people, and has no patience for anyone who isn't straight to the point or clear in their intentions. Which is part of why she likes Alex so much, because he's got about as much depth to him as a kiddie pool, and needs protecting.

She also understands how he sees the world more simply because she kind of has a foot in that world too with how "dumb" she is about certain things (but again, just not caring to put the effort in to learn).

Alex is a sweet himbo and has major fucking heart-eyes for his girl. (This version of him has already had his feminist awakening where he unlearns the misogyny instilled in him by his upbringing)

He doesn't talk much because he's used to people seeing him differently when they realize he's got nothing interesting to say. He's also used to being shamed for asking questions, especially with the history of child abuse. He is extremely polite because of that too. Everyone is Sir or Ma'am.

But you know who he does talk to? Haley. Because they have enough trust and openness that he knows she will tell him if he is boring her. But, she never does because she has an incredible soft spot for him. She will listen to him talk about gridball all day just to watch his lips move, his cheeks dimple when he smiles.

His girl is high maintenance and he is a PROUD maintenance man. He opens every door, carries every bag, takes pictures of her on the beach for hours for her Instagram.

I like to picture them as having a major size difference, like Alex is 6'1 and Haley is 5'2. But Haley always wears huge heels to appear average height and she absolutely commands a room with her big attitude and her even bigger man behind her teehee. She calls him baby and he calls her baby, my girl, or Sunflower (thanks to @wrightingdungeon for that one)

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[cyanityy]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE HARIN ART IT FILLS ME WITH JOY AND IT WAS SO UNEXPECTED

but but do u write oc x oc? if u do how do u think harin would interact with one of ur ocs?

AAA YOU'RE WELCOME ANYTIME !! I'm glad you liked it, she was such a delight to draw! I don't write OC content often but I can definitely try. I don't have any other OC besides Sonya (yet..) so I'll be dedicating these interactions between her and Harin!

[I've interpreted OC x OC as platonic for this ask.]

Sonya is both intimidated and fascinated by Harin's greaser status. On the one hand, she's brewing all sorts of conversation starters: should she say something about her jacket? but she can't just ask where she got it from..what if she gets angry, or worse? on the other hand, if something feels like daggers in the back of Harin's head it's Sonya focusing really hard on being friendly.

Once they move aside from their first impression, the first mention of Harin's Elvis vinyl has Sonya looking at her saucer-eyed. Not wanting to betray her girly outlook, she waters down her enthusiasm a LOT. Harin doesn't mind, she also thought that maybe Sonya wasn't into her music taste, but after several niche names were dropped during some "simple questions" she caught onto the fact that Sonya is VERY interested, actually.

Harin is very self-assured in her style, so she takes Sonya thrifting for a taste. She doesn't haggle but boy does she know how to get the good picks without a fuss and eventually even Sonya gets the hang of it. She admires Harin for this as it reminds her of her uncle, who she had a very close bond with (also a diehard thrifter). Sonya's got Harin to thank for a lush wardrobe of Jeans, skirts and an old Marshall radio!

Sonya could be a pushover sometimes, especially around her clique. The day that she told Harin about how Mandy invited her for a girl's day out only to be told she came on "the wrong day" was an inspiring one indeed. Harin met her eyes after a pause and goes "I thought you were cooler than that" Before the shock wore off she continued "Mandy's lame. She doesn't look and talk that way because she's happy with herself you know?" Even if Harin had a tough way of showing it, she still cares about Sonya's happiness. After that evening, Sonya sleeps a little easier knowing that Harin's got her back.

Sonya drives like she's always on five stars, if Harin's telling her to stop the car then she probably can't hear it over the sound of wind breaking against her ears.

Harin's idea of a good time is trespassing onto Vale property to stargaze on someone's roof, says there's "less smog here" and.. she's right? You can see how the stars are a little brighter than those in New Coventry if you don't think about the security gate, the CCTV, or the car alarm going off at the wrong gust of air, even Sonya's string of murmurs that she thinks somebody saw them.

Safe to say they make a truce that Sonya will drive responsibility in exchange for Harin to find new, less incriminating hobbies.

Sonya's a physical affection girlie, Harin is not. Whenever Harin sees that girl walking to her with her arms held wide, better believe she'll stop her by the shoulders. Hugs feel too stuffy to her, in fact, any proximity is annoying and opts to spend quality time instead. it's something they disagree on.

Horrible enablers to each other. Not the good kind of horrible, it's the Awkward, tried-your-best kind. Imagine being the victim of their insults and it sounds like "Who died and made you the queen of bad taste?" "-ruler of yucktopia" "which is only a little island" "-made of garbage" - It could go on for a while.

I think their dynamic has potential for complexity especially because Harin would be one of the first greaser girls she gets along with - excuse all her questions and poking, she's just happy to be here!

thanks for sending in a request!

[einsatzzz]

Hello ❤️ I have some meta asks for your ocs

Kana: What controversies/drama would your character incite in fandom?

And (yes she gets two because I am biased and looking for crumbs)

What is the quote between your character and their love interest/whoever they might be shipped with that their fans would latch onto?

Kurumi: What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom?

Yui: If your character had a breakout show/film/comic, what would the plot be? Who would be in their supporting cast?

- 🍎

Hello 🍎Anon 🫶✨👀 Thank you for sending this over and enabling me to yap more about my blorbos 🥰🥰🥰 I only know what to talk about when I draw them, but for pure text posts I often blank out on what to say, so I love asks! I will try my best to give you Kana crumbs too!

🍎Kana: What controversies/drama would your character incite in fandom?

If Kana were a canon character, Kana and controversies/drama are like blood brothers, like soulmates. They are a set package. It wasn't there at the start or perhaps there will be initial discourse about her gender. But fandom will find out eventually that they have bigger fish to fry. As more and more layers of her character gets revealed, the more fandom discourse there is. She is certainly not a character for people who view things in a black or white manner or those with low reading comprehension 😭🤣😭🤣 *looks at those gear grindingly loud mfs on twi//ter*

On the surface, she would prob be reduced to either a some kind of siscon (memes included) or straight-up a cruel/heartless character with ulterior motives ("maybe her love for Kurumi is just a facade? and she has ulterior motives?"). If you peel off the first few layers, you will see that she really does genuinely love Kurumi and her family, for better or for worse. If you peel off more layer, you will see an asshole. If you peel even more layers, you will see an even bigger asshole banned from hell.

Also do you know that one meme where they keep putting Oi\\kawa (from Hai\\kyuu, a VOLLEYBALL series) in a line up of actual villains/war criminals?

Kana would be there, except she kinda deserves to be there. People who don't get the joke would complain about why Oi//kawa keeps getting included in these fuckass lists that includes Kana and other messed up characters lmao (truthfully i didn't get it at first when i saw it and was lowkey pissed since im an oi//kawa oshi lmaooo now it's just funny every time i see it. still crazy to see him lined up with characters like d//io or aiz//en or gri//ffith like damn wwwwww)

Did you know? My favorite character from Monster is Joh//ann Lieb//ert hahahaha nothing important, just wanna say it haha,,,hahaha,,,,, pls ignore if you don't know Monster sdkjfsdhvfsd

🍎Kana: What is the quote between your character and their love interest/whoever they might be shipped with that their fans would latch onto?

The least spoilery thing I can come up with on the spot on is Hibari telling her "You're so stupid (affectionate & relieved)" after she does (and says) something objectively very stupid that could even give YuiRumi&family a heart attack & a stroke simultaneously.

Short, simple, effective. ME, personally, I will lose my mind and latch onto it even on my deathbed.

If you want something that could potentially come from a Kana POV, I do have a quote like this saved:

🎀Kurumi: What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom?

For Kurumi, I think modern fandom would focus too much on her gender? There would be a divide in the fandom based on how they interpret the "Gender: ?" in her profile lmao We can see a lot of people insisting that she's non-binary. That's fine and all, everyone is free to interpret characters as they like (except if the creator has reiterated clear rules and boundaries for it). The problem is that we can also see people say that you can't refer to her as anything else but non-binary sjdgbhjsdfvhjsbfd

🤖Yui: If your character had a breakout show/film/comic, what would the plot be? Who would be in their supporting cast?

My understanding of this question is that it's asking for a Yui spin-off where he's the MC! It would be in a light novel format under the romantic comedy genre (with some sci-fi, perhaps? because he loves making robots hahaha inb4 it becomes a mecha story). The story's main couple would be him and Hiyori, because that's what Yui would've wanted. He is delusional and down bad.

In terms of shipping, we actually have three main ships we've committed to. It's just that I often end up posting about the two CanonxOC pairs more sjkdfjskdf but the third one is an OCxOC pair between Yui and Hiyori (YuiHiyo). Sowwwwyyy Yui! uwu Hiyorin is holding me at syringe-point and telling me to shut the fuck up about it.

[samwinchestersgirl83]

🦉Positivity owl reporting for duty! This was sent by a friend who wants you to smile as much as your posts make them smile. Please list five things that make you unique, four things you are super passionate about and why, OR three of your favorite memories. Feel free to send the owl to those who you feel deserve to smile🦉

I’m gonna do 4 things I am passionate about 🥰

1. My wife. She is my biggest supporter, the love of my life, and she enables my SPN addiction 😂🥰🩷 But no seriously, she is my partner in crime, in life, in love, and I would never dream of having anyone better for me than her. She is it. My soulmate 🩷

2. Supernatural. I could talk about it all day. The show itself is literally amazing. I really hope for a reunion soon. The stories, the hunts, I see things in everyday life and be like “I could see this being on SPN” 😂🩷

3. Wincest. Jared and Jenson have the most phenomenal on and off screen chemistry I have ever seen in my life. I ship them so hardcore it has altered my brain chemistry 🫠 and listen, I know they are married with families, again which I respect and would never be that person to force a ship on them when I do get to meet them (yes, I am meeting them in December 😍🙌🏼🥰) but come on. They were born and raised in Texas, one of the most repressed states. You CAN NOT tell me that they themselves have not atleast been curious about one another. Maybe even shared a kiss together in secret private. I know actors can have some great chemistry in general but they appear as if they are genuinely long lost soulmates 🩷

4. Halloween! It’s not only my favorite holiday but my favorite movie. I have an unhealthy obsession with Michael Myers. In fact as I am typing this, I have a Halloween marathon going on in the background. And not only that, my wife and I’s anniversary is on Halloween! We married 10/31/21 🩷🩷

A secret not so secret 5th fact, I also have a passion for Jared 😂🩷 that man is so fine and just continues to age like fucking fine wine 🙌🏼🙌🏼🩷🩷🩷

Thank you for the fun positivity ask anon!

[strollgeant]

lesbian sargebonhe drabble for me and my three fans

girls under the cut (it’s about 900 words)

i wrote this just about all day after seeing a tt at about 3 am also thank you to my bestie kay for being an enabler(/j)

including: drunk logan, phone sex, sex toys

Logan drops her purse on the ground after getting home from the club. She’ll pick it up tomorrow. She turns quickly to lock the deadbolt, head still a little dizzy. Her tall boots fall into the shoe rack easily, along with her keys on accident.

“Oof,” Logan whispers to herself. Usually, she loves drinking with Jack, Oscar and Liam but… They were all super horny for their partners tonight and alcohol only made their tongues that much looser. Logan shimmies her miniskirt down her legs and throws her mesh shirt over her head and jumps into bed.

Sadly, both of her girlfriends are out of town. Dalton had to have his wedding the same time as Alex’s grandmother’s birthday meaning she had to pick. And she would have loved to have Alex and Lily on her arms but a grandmother only turns 100 once.

Not wanting to upstage Dalton by having two hot girlfriends is also there.

Speaking of… Logan is feeling that usual heat in her stomach. Alcohol does make her horny, it’s one of Lily’s favorite things to tease her for.

Laying on their bed in a bralette and panties and waiting to be fucked is usually one of her favorite hobbies.

Usually…but she’s all alone now.

Logan sighs and throws herself out of bed to grab another beer from the fridge. She absentmindedly rubs her stomach with the door open, eyes flicking through their selection.

A can of margarita ends up in her hand, along with a bottle of water. Alex would be proud of her for being responsible. She cracks open the can, taking a big swig of lime and tequila. Laying back in bed she opens up instagram and nearly instantly regrets it.

So much tan skin on display. Alex, wearing the swim shorts and matching sports bra Logan got her for her birthday. Her long willowy limbs are somehow even more bronzed. Lily is also wearing something Logan bought her which warms her heart.

And between her legs again.

Fuck it.

Logan leans over the side of the bed dizzily. Her nails hook into the box of toys under the bed and she pries the lid open with her last long fingernail. She grabs the first thing she can wrap her hand around and pulls up a small light blue vibe.

Logan gets even hotter thinking about the time Lily held it down on her clit until she squirted everywhere and Alex licked both of them clean.

Fuck it. She slides the vibe into her panties and swipes open the group chat she has with her girlfriends.

***

Lily and Alex are out at the street vendors when the voice memos start coming through.

Usually Logan will send little voice messages during the day but it’s 2 am in London now.

They’re splitting a mango sticky rice when Alex finally looks down at her phone.

“You wanna listen?” Alex asks, pulling her airpods out of the pocket of her shorts. She looks great, totally in her element. Lily can’t wait to pounce on her when they get back to the hotel. She nods.

“I miss y’all.”

Logan’s voice always takes on this syrupy Southern drawl when she’s drunk. Lily thinks it’s adorable.

“Went out with everybody tonight and of course the conversation in the Uber was about sex. I was squeezin’ my thighs together listenin’ to Liam talk about Yuki eatin’ her ass. God I want that to be me. Eat me when you get home, yeah?”

Lily’s breath hitches. Holy shit.

“I got home, so drunk ‘n so horny. And there was no strap at home. Wish y’all were here so bad. I need Alex to brush away my tears while Lily rails me. And I want y’all to switch. I wanna be so ruined just sink down into the mattress all wet and used.”

Alex gasps a little and Lily squeezes her hand.

“I want you so bad. Please come home soon.” Lily can hear her kicking her legs against the bed. She’s clearly a bit distraught. She’s whining like she usually does when she’s close. “Fuck me. We aren’t getting out of bed for at least six hours when you get back.”

“I really wanna tell her she’s being bossy but it’s really hot hearing her be needy like this,” Alex whispers.

“Don’t tease Lex.” Lily slaps her on the arm.

“She would want me to,” Alex says cheekily. “I’m sure she wants a lot of things right now.”

“Someone needs to sit on my face real soon. I’ll be so good I need it so bad darlin’. Fuck I miss your hands. Fuck.”

“You hear that?” Alex smiles, she always knows something Lily doesn’t. Lily shakes her head. “The faint hum of a vibrator.” Alex whispers in her ear and Lily feels it in her clit. She can hear it; slightly buzzing.

“We need to go back to the hotel now,” Lily says, fisting a hand into Alex’s linen shirt.

By the time they stumble into bed, sweaty and naked, Logan is long asleep. It’s okay, they can still do something for her while they wait for her to wake up.

***

Logan wakes with a throbbing in her head and cum dried on her inner thighs.

She also wakes up to two videos and a text reminding her to take some painkillers.

Logan takes the pills with some water, grabs the vibe again, rolls over and presses play on the first video.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Oooooh I’m so pumped about these new fics you’ve added! I’m officially intrigued and excited to read!

Also I should probably apologize for the amount of emojis here but I keep sending long requests and you keep fulfilling them fabulously sooooo I guess what I’m saying is that this is on you for enabling me :p

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(PROPOSALLLLLL - also my dear poor bobby trying to both encourage eddie to marry buck while also trying to prevent him from proposing poor guy)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(loving the established buckley-diaz family!)

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(EEEEEEEEEEE!!!! - the sound my heart makes when i think about this fic)

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(explore them childhoods buck and bobby!)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(a lovely dog and a tsunami avoided i do think things are looking up for buck!)

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠(NICO MY BELOVED IVE MISSED YOU SO!!!) (and while i support your declaration that this is the last one if you ever change your mind please know I’ll be thrilled to see any other stories you dream up)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(after what you’ve done with your vampire premise im slightly scared and entirely excited to see what you do with zombies!)

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑(MADNEY CINDERELLA?!?!??! WOW YOURE TOO GOOD TO US CAL I CANT WAIT)

…yeah I definitely went crazy feel free to cut this down as much as you need. Thank youuuuuuu you’re amazing!!

HEY!!!!! YES I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS.

Do not apologize for the length. I saved it for last (unless someone submits something else) so that I could dedicate the right time to it. I am pumped.

---

Starting with 48 for ⚡️ (Proposal chapter posted! So this will be post-proposal!)

---

Eddie laughs. “You sure did.”

“It looks great,”  Maddie agrees. She walks around Eddie and Chris to give Buck a big hug.

“Congrats, guys,” Chim adds. “This is awesome. I knew it would happen from the moment you had that dumb, peacocking argument in the fire station gym.”

“What?” Chris asks. 

“Nothing,” Eddie says quickly. “Chim’s just being funny.”

“Thanks, man,” Buck laughs. “I appreciate all your help.”

Jee wanders over to Eddie and Chris and stands on tip toes to look at Eddie’s ring. Eddie lowers his hand to give her an easier view. 

“Wow,” she says, looking at the ring. “Green!”

“He wears a lot of green,” Chris tells her. “It made sense.”

“I do,” Eddie admits. 

“I like green,” Jee nods sagely. 

Maddie, Chim, and Jee leave after a few minutes. Eddie, Buck, and Chris make smoothies and sit in the kitchen, where Chris batters them with a million questions about the proposal. Buck does not forget to mention how Eddie derailed things. Kind of him, really. 

“So when is the wedding going to be?” Chris asks once everything is blended and they’re all sitting down. “This year? Next year?”

“We don’t know yet, bud,” Eddie answers. “These things take some time to plan.”

Especially when you don’t have basic training and childbirth as a time constraint.

“Probably not this calendar year, though,” Buck adds. “We can take our time planning it, I think.”

Eddie nods. “For sure.”

“Well, where are you going to get married? Is it going to be big? Like a huge party?”

“Chris, Buck and I haven’t even started talking about that yet,” Eddie tells him. “Give us some time.”  

“Well, you had all of last night!” Chris protests. “What else were you doing?”

Buck and Eddie stare at each other, nervously, for a moment. 

Sometimes it feels like Chris is growing up way too quickly. Then a nice little moment like this comes along to ease his anxiety. 

“I guess we talked about other stuff, kiddo,” Buck says, trying not to smirk.

---

27 for 🚨 (THANKS!)

---

“Wait, you know Alan?” One of the hungover, frantic-looking partygoers asks. Probably the one who called 9-1-1. He’s wearing a speedo and a blue terry cloth robe. 

Eddie frowns. “Wait, you know Alan? Prescott?”

“Who do you think fell out of the pool?” The young man exclaims. 

“What?” Eddie asks, expression dropping. His face goes a little pale. 

“It’s Alan! Alan is the one who needs your help!”

That, Buck realizes, is not good. Very, very not good. 

Someone Eddie used to love might be dying. Again. 

🔹🔹🔹

There’s no way around the fact that it’s a rescue with a high chance of failure. Alan is in a bad position. There’s no way to get the truck underneath him to lift a ladder up. He’s off the side of a cliff. A cliff covered in thick foliage. And there’s not a lot to hook a winch up to to send someone down after him. Nothing super secure, anyway. The pool is huge and spans the majority of the back line of the yard. They can’t just rappel over.

---

69 for 🩸 (THANK YOU SO MUCH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!)

---

Buck can’t stop chewing the inside of his cheek. It’s becoming a problem. He is beginning to taste the coppery tang of blood in his saliva. All these months of waiting, and it’s moments away from being finished. Buck is practically vibrating out of his skin. 

They’ve arrived. Buck knows they’ve arrived, because Chris texted him the moment the plane was taxiing. Probably before he was even allowed to take his phone off airplane mode. He’s been keeping Buck diligently updated in the half an hour or so since. Which is how Buck knows they’ve collected Christopher’s checked bags. They’re on their way out of the baggage claim area now. They’re a breath away. 

Buck fires off a quick text to Eddie and Sophia on WhatsApp, notifying them. They were able to get Eddie’s old phone charged and working, but unfortunately the line has been canceled for months on account of his supposed death. And he can’t exactly call the company to reinstate it. So Wi-Fi based communications it is, for now. Buck will get on adding a second line to his account, soon. They just need another SIM.

Eddie gives the message a thumbs up. It seems like a muted response, but Buck knows the truth is just that he’s probably sitting there shaking. There’s nothing to say, anyway. 

It’s in that spot, standing in the arrivals terminal, checking his phone, chewing on his cheek, that he hears Christopher call out to him. 

“BUCK!”

Buck lifts his head to see him. He’s making a good pace, trying to navigate the LAX crowd with his crutches, in a beeline towards Buck. He’s taller. A decent amount taller. Buck could weep.

He takes off in long strides towards Christopher, pushing past people who he might on any other day be apologetic to. Today they don’t matter. Today Chris is home. He’s here, in front of him. He hardly even looks at the veritable clone of Sophia walking, tight-faced, behind Chris as he reaches them. He and Chris more or less collide together. Buck pulls him into a tight, crushing hug, ignoring the way one his crutches dig into his thigh. 

“I missed you so much,” Christopher says, eyes watering.

“I missed you, too,” Buck tells him. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too,” Chris mumbles. 

Buck pulls away from him, leaving his hands on his shoulders. He scans Christopher head to toe. 

“You’re so tall,” Buck laughs, eyes stinging. “What were you eating out there, huh?” 

“You can’t talk!” Chris protests. 

“I guess that’s true,” Buck smiles. 

Buck takes a quick moment to look at Adriana. He can’t help but feel a cold coil of anger towards her, for how upset her sister was last night. He tries to remind himself she is missing critical information. 

“Thank you for bringing him,” he says to her. 

Normally he would probably offer to buy her lunch for her trouble and the long day, regardless of the discomfort between them. But he needs to get Chris home to Eddie. 

Adriana purses her lips for a second before replying. “Sure. Chris, you’ll remember to call, right?”

“Right,” Chris agrees, though Buck can tell he’s annoyed. Probably not the first time he’s heard this. 

Buck steps forward to take Christopher’s bags from Adriana. She slides them over without complaint.

“Is there anything you need before you catch your flight back?” He asks her. 

She scoffs a little. Buck, again, is prepared to be mad. But then he sees such a sincerely hurt, heartbroken expression across her face. Her eyes, so much like Eddie’s, are big and wounded. 

“There’s nothing you could do for me.” 

“Tia…” Chris protests weakly. 

Adriana hardly seems to hear him.

---

27 for 🔮:

---

It’s different, because Buck has so many other people in his life now. He’s not alone. But… But Bobby still didn’t go after him. 

He should have gone after him.

But what would he have said? He still can’t explain himself.

Bobby looks around Buck’s room, hoping to distract himself from this feeling of uselessness. To take in more small, previously unknown-to-him details about Buck. This solitary, sad Buck. There is a stack of CDs on a desk. An iPod classic with a sort of girly sticker on the back. Bobby wonders if that came from Maddie. There’s a school library copy of To Kill a Mockingbird open and facedown, and a spiral bound notebook where the scattered beginnings of an essay are written in messy graphite. A gaudy school jersey is on the ground, next to cleats. He forgot Buck played football. He wonders if the sport was ever the draw, or if it was always the team.

All of a sudden, Buck flips over and sits up. He sniffs, rubs his red eyes, and pulls himself up off the bed.

“Fuck this stupid family,” he mutters. 

Ouch. 

Buck rounds his bed, picks up the cleats off the floor, and puts them on. He takes off his sweater, so he’s just wearing a tee shirt, and tosses it on the frame on his bed. He grabs a football out of his closet and tucks it under his arm. 

Bobby watches, unsure of what he’s about to do, as he walks over to his bedroom window, wrenches it open, ducks his head low, and swings a leg over the side. Bobby’s eyes widen nervously. What the hell is he going to do? Well, Bobby knows what he’s going to do. He just doesn’t know if this is one of those stories that ends with Buck breaking a bone.

---

Well 🦮 has been posted! And I hope you enjoy/ed it!

In exchange, what I can give you is 24 sentences of the fic I started to replace it, another Gotcha for Gaza prompt. I will give it no context, but here it is and here's it's emoji 🛞

---

“Well, you weren’t the last person to sit in this seat,” Buck explains.

Eddie frowns. “I wasn’t? Someone else changed my settings?”

Chim holds back a sigh. If they could turn on the Jeep and get going, that would be great. He has a former foster child being adopted by his best friend to see. 

“Eddie, Chris was the last person to sit in the seat. He changed the settings.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Well, I’ll have words with him later.”

Wow. 

“He resets my settings in your truck, too.” Buck argues.

“No, you reset his settings in the truck, because you have giraffe legs.” Eddie rebuts. 

Chim is going to scream. 

“Eddie, you’ll survive,”  he says. “Buck, let’s beat traffic.”

“Right, right,” Buck says, starting the ignition. “Can you put in the address for me, Eddie?”

“Yep,” Eddie replies, taking Buck’s phone right off his thigh, and plugging it in. The Apple CarPlay display flickers to life. 

Eddie holds Buck’s phone to his face and it unlocks. 

---

45 for 🌠 (haha thank you! I am open to more but feel like I've explored what I wanted to?):

---

“You ran off, right?” 

“No!” Nico shouts. “I didn’t want to be alone! I don’t want to be alone! I want Dad!”

He sounds like a little kid. Half of Christopher’s heart aches for him. Half of it resents him. And that latter half is cruel and unfair and Chris knows that. He knows it’s good that Nico is terrified and unsure how to act. He knows it’s good Nico isn’t used to this. It’s fucking great for Nico, that, by this age, he hasn’t dealt with a parent killed by a distracted driver, a parent shot overseas and at home, and a parent struck by fucking lightning. He is healthy and adjusted and things have always, always been easier for him. 

And Christopher feels like a total asshole. Here he is, not far off thirty years-old, just realizing how much resentment he holds for a child. His little brother. Who he does love. Really, he loves him dearly. They’ve just lived apart more than they ever lived together, and it feels like they don’t know each other as well as they should. 

When you find something to work on, you forget about everyone else.

Fuck. 

“Nico, okay, I won’t-”

“Dad could be dying and you don’t even care!” 

Tears are streaming down his brother’s face now. Christopher wants to scream. He feels frozen. This feels impossible. Sometimes he thinks about the fact that his dad and Buck weren’t that much older than he is now, dealing with him at this age. How his dad was younger than him when his mom died and he was alone with a little kid. And Christopher wasn’t the world’s easiest kid. He knows that. Even if Dad would never, ever say it. 

“That’s not exactly what’s… Of course I care,” Christopher tries to reason. “God, of course I care.”

“Then why are you just working and acting like nothing is happening?”

Christopher takes a deep breath. 

“Nico, it helps me to keep my mind off of it,” he explains. “If I don’t, I get anxious. Because I care a lot, okay? You think I don’t? Between us, I’m the one who knows how shitty it feels to lose a parent.”

Nico’s expression drops. Anger and hurt turned to immediate regret. 

---

24 for 🧟 (Thank you! A bit more traditional zombies. Mostly bc none of our characters is one haha)

---

Hell, they could be so fucked up from everything that has happened nine months, that they’ve just snapped and want to cause pain. Buck isn’t risking the only family he has left. 

The cop car stops right in front of the turn to drive into the library parking lot. Like it, too, doesn’t want to cross the red line. The driver’s side door opens with urgency and a woman steps out. The windows are all tinted, and Buck can’t see if there’s anyone else in the car.

The woman’s back is to Buck, her arms in front of her, holding something. A gun perhaps. She’s dressed in what looks like the pants part of a cop uniform, but a bright, souvenir-style tee shirt. She’s shorter than Buck, but carries herself with a presence. An authority that, under other circumstances, Buck would either butt heads against or easily follow. 

The woman takes a step towards the library. 

Buck stands up and aims. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” He calls. 

The woman whirls on him, handgun pointed right at his forehead with what he can just tell is precision. If this goes badly, no chance she misses. He can see that. 

“Nice to meet you,” the woman quips. Buck would put her in her fifties. She has the trace of a southern accent. The tee shirt she’s wearing has a big, illustrated orange on it and the word Florida. Which explains the accent. 

---

36 for 👑 (THANKS! All credit to the prompter though):

---

“While Santa Claus was dying and she was covered in his blood?”

“Oh, please. Santa will be fine.” Hen waves a dismissive hand. “But who knows? Maybe fate will intervene and you’ll bump into her again.”

ii.

Fate does intervene. Just not in the ways Chim might expect. 

It’s a two-pronged day of surprises. 

They have a shift the day after Christmas. Christmas which Chim did end up spending alone. He didn’t feel right about going to Hen’s, and he didn’t feel right intruding on the Lees, so he just told each party he was going to the other’s. It was kind of shit. Not that he’ll say that to anyone. 

The point is, they’re on shift. It’s the 26th of December. They get called a kitchen fire in Beverly Hills. Nothing serious; a kid trying to make fancy vegan, gluten free cookies while her parents obviously were not supervising. No one is hurt. But that’s where Chimney sees her again. On a Christmas card of all things! 

He physically has to stop in front of the mantleplace where it’s displayed. A glossy, photocard type thing of two older white people with their two adult children. 

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays from the Buckleys, it reads. Wishing you all the best in 2018. From Phillip, Margaret, Maddie, and Evan. 

Whoa. Whoa. 

She has a name. Maddie Buckley. And from the distant way they’re all sitting in the portrait, not touching, that is certainly her younger brother, not her younger husband. Yikes. Now that he looks closer at them, neither Maddie nor Evan looks especially happy to be there. They’re all dressed in expensive clothing. Hair styled. This is a very, uh, special Christmas card. They look rich. Beverly Hills rich.

[gurokichi]

HEY! it's me again, just letting you know that for the first like- 20 minutes? of sending my anon ask in, i would check your blog every minute (exaggeration here but, close) to see if you responded, haha!

also i think youre very very fun and i hope we can talk more in the future!

HELLO AGAIN! Relatable actually. I do the same exact thing when I send asks to people. Sorry that I didn’t get to your anon ask sooner, I was reading aughhh. Tumblr hates giving me notifications for some reason even though I’ve enabled them. I need to go check my notification settings to see if they’re correct so thank you for the accidental reminder!! (๑>؂•̀๑)

I’m glad that you like my yapping!! While we haven’t interacted much, I have been having fun with you too and so I’d love to talk more 2 you. You seem really nice ehehe

[mnemo-sick]

Chromedome, for the send me a character ask? ;)

thank you rushing-waters!!!

(this is probably obvious but many spoilers incoming)

First impression

"wow, the artists really are pushing the proportions on these character designs, huh?" -my thoughts when reading for the first time

no seriously his waist is smaller than his head. why do you have a waist so small? for other bots to grab? (yes) (five husbands)

actually seriously tho mtmte was such an intricate fast-paced colorful blur on the first read that I didn't really notice him in particular until issues #14-#16 where I uh. started paying attention. for obvious reasons.

Impression now

whiny self-deprecating loser sadboy who I love with all my heart and soul

no on subsequent reads I definitely started liking him even more. the happiest scenes are when he's fully just some guy, like in the bar talking with swerve about nightmare fuel or trying to guess people from their transformation noises. he's also really good at his job!! (not just mnemosurgery, but forensics in general!) and sorry rodimus, but I would invite him along just for his dry wit.

Favorite moment

I thought for a long time about this one and I think there's just too many to choose from. but if I had to give one off the dome, (ha), maybe that little moment at the beginning of the time travel arc where he's talking to rewind and defending brainstorm. because yeah! he's his friend! and he likes to think he's good at reading people.

Idea for a story

hm. maybe a post canon / au situation where they're still on the lost light and he joins a dedicated forensics team. because I think it would be good for him to feel useful after giving up mnemosurgery

Unpopular opinion

maybe not unpopular. but his holomatter avatar would not look like that. maybe it's just the 2014-ness of it but it just rubs me the wrong way. I don't know exactly what itd be. maybe long blonde stoner hair. I'm thinking he's still masc. idk. he just needs to look pathetic. sadder

Favorite relationship

I could say rewind or brainstorm, but I'm gonna go the other direction. I'm gonna say rodimus. because rewind is right, he is an enabler. actually it's worse than that, since rodimus is not just enabling self destructive behavior but actively initiating it. ordering it, even, as much as anyone on the LL really needs to listen to his orders. (sorry roddy buddy.)

no but I think about this so much. because we remember a few times in canon where rodimus orders a crew member to shoot another. and it's often the same pattern: "shoot them!" "do I shoot to kill?" "yes!" "uh... are you sure??" "okay just incapacitate them." and in these cases rodimus is asking a crew member to harm (or kill) a crew member.

but with CD, rodimus is asking him to hurt himself for the betterment of the crew. usually for the reason that having the information in a dead or unconscious person's head might tilt the balance toward their survival. so in these times, when rodimus says "hurt somebody! (yourself)" there's nobody to say "are you sure?"

(granted, CD does usually say something like "this could kill me" but I don't count it because he's bent on self destruction and he's already got his needles out. I'm sure rodimus brushes it off as that "dry wit.")

Favorite headcanon

idk where this one came from. I think it's a pretty common fanon interpretation. but I love love love the idea that brainstorm made CD's needles. the drama. the angst. I live for it. it just makes sense too! they're both incredibly skilled in their fields and I think having them overlap in this way is incredibly satisfying. (heartbreaking. gut-wrenching.)