#time to push them off this damn cliff already

[theshiniestgemstone]

Protective Gideon x wild child yn

Like she is literally rock climbing and he is down the mountain like praying aggressively for her safety.

I can see Jesse loving her too so they go do dumb shit together and Gideon is practically begging god to not let her get hurt.

“Stop being a pussy!” Jesse shouted again from somewhere off to the side, cupping his hands around his mouth like a deranged cheerleader.

You adjusted your grip on the rock face, fingers burning and sweaty, the sun beating down on your back. The wind picked up just enough to remind you how high up you were.

It was supposed to be a fun hike. With the entire family out in the Rocky Mountains for some face time with a Gemstone church around here, you all thought it would be nice to get some fresh air. You, Gideon, and Jesse had lost the others long ago, assuming they'd catch up. Thankfully, with all the trails leading back to the parking area, it wasn't too scary. What started as a sunny day soon became a heart attack with a chance of scattered showers for Gideon, who was helplessly watching you scale the side of a mountain. The ledge was only about 15 feet high, but it scared him shitless that you had no ropes or any kind of safety measure.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself higher. Below, Gideon was pacing like a madman, hands in his hair, muttering under his breath. “Dear Lord, please, please just don’t let her fall. I swear I’ll start going back to Bible study. I’ll tithe extra. I’ll marry her right now if that’s what it takes-“

“Gideon!” Jesse snapped, whacking him on the shoulder with a sweat soaked handkerchief. “She’s fine! She’s like a little mountain goat. Ain’t you ever seen her at the lake? Girl’s half feral. She flipped a jet ski and then pushed Pontious off of his.”

It was true. You’d only been out of your purple cast for about two weeks. It was from a fun day on the trampoline that ended up with you in the front seat of his car clutching your mangled wrist to your chest, telling him it was just a sprain. A month before that, you were in a boot after you twisted your ankle in a foot race against Abraham and Pontious. A small price to pay to put them to shame, you said.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart!” Gideon shouted up, ignoring his dad entirely.

You gritted your teeth, taking a tentative step higher, using a gnarled tree root for support. “Gideon?” you called out. “Jesse?”

“Yeah?” they both said in unison.

“Both of you,” you grunted, wedging your foot into a crack, “just shut the fuck up.”

A pause.

“I’m still prayin',” Gideon said firmly.

“Good!” you yelled, scaling higher with a grin. “Pray harder.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gideon muttered. “If she dies, I swear to God I’m throwing myself off this rock after her.”

“She ain’t gonna die,” Jesse scoffed, shielding his eyes from the sun. “She’s probably gonna make it to the top and do a cartwheel just to piss you off.”

You finally reached the last stretch, a narrow ledge where the rock jutted out just enough for a proper grip. You paused, catching your breath, muscles burning from the climb.

“Almost there!” Jesse yelled. “Do a flip!”

“I will throw a rock at you!” you snapped, hoisting yourself up one last time and scrambling to your feet. Arms outstretched like a victorious gladiator, you stood at the top of the cliff, triumphant and wild-eyed, hair whipped by the wind. You looked proud of it.

“Hey Gideon,” you called, peering down.

He stepped forward, both hands on his hips. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

You leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Ten bucks and I'll jump.”

“Oh my god!” Gideon’s voice cracked mid-yell. “I swear, if you jump I’m climbing up there myself and carrying you down like a damn sack of potatoes!”

“Too late,” you said, already halfway to sitting on your butt and scooting toward the edge like a gremlin. “Gravity’s in God’s hands now.”

Jesse was doubled over laughing, practically wheezing. “She’s gonna give you a stroke, son. You picked a wild one.”

Gideon didn’t respond. He was halfway into scaling the rock face himself. You swung your legs lazily. "Are you guys coming up?"

Gideon nodded, wiping the sweat from his hands and adjusting his grip. "Give me an hour."

Jesse shook his head. "There's some stairs up ahead on the trail."

Your mouth fell open as you look down at Gideon. "What the hell did I do all that for then?"

Gideon grunted, already about four feet from the ground. "Because you can't say no to a dare."

You nodded. "It is my kryptonite."

Gideon was panting by the time he pulled himself over the edge, face red, his hair damp with sweat, and palms scraped from the climb. He looked like a man who had been through war, and in a way, he had. A war of worry and sheer physical exertion. You were sitting cross-legged on a small bench, sipping from a water bottle like you'd been there for years.

“Finally,” you grinned, holding out your hand. “Thought you were gonna need a helicopter rescue.”

He gave you a look, equal parts annoyed and lovesick, before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up the last couple inches. The moment he stood steady, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. He blinked in surprise, then gave a breathless laugh.

“That my prize for surviving?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Nah,” you said, looping your arms loosely around his neck. “That’s for not yelling at me halfway through. You get another one if you don’t yell at me on the way down either.”

He smirked and kissed you again, softer this time. “You drive me insane.”

“You like it.”

“I do,” he admitted, forehead pressed to yours. “God help me.”

Eventually, the two of you made your way down the easy trail hand in hand. Gideon scowled when he noticed the wooden stairs where you could’ve just walked instead of scaled a rock wall, and caught up with Jesse, Amber, Abraham, and Pontious. They were hanging out at a scenic overlook, passing around granola bars and bottles of Gatorade.

“Look who made it down alive!” Jesse crowed. “What took y’all so long? Have a little makeout sesh up there on Lover’s Ledge?”

Amber raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. She paused on your skinned knees and dirty sweatshirt. Then she turned to Gideon. “You let her climb that thing?”

“Let?” Gideon scoffed. “You ever tried stopping her from doing something?”

“Exactly,” you chirped, already peeling off your sweatshirt and tying it around your waist. “You guys just jealous you didn’t do it too.”

Pontious and Abraham exchanged a look, then Pontious grinned devilishly. “Bet you can’t beat me to the car.”

Your eyes lit up.

“Uh-oh,” Gideon muttered.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Jesse wheezed, clapping his hands. “Now it’s on.”

You looked at Gideon, the question in your eyes clear. Should I? Do I? He didn’t even hesitate.

He gave you a crooked smile. The kind of smile that told you everything you needed to know. Whether you won or fell on your face, he’d be proud. Whether you came back with another cast or not, he wasn’t going anywhere. Then, without a word, he knelt in front of you.

You blinked. “What are you-?”

“Your shoes are loose,” he said, pulling the laces tighter and double-knotting them with the quiet care of someone who'd done this a hundred times before in the parking lot before a game or a stunt. “Can’t have you tripping right out the gate.”

You softened, watching him as he patted your ankle gently, then stood and brushed off his knees. He pecked your cheek and cupped your jaw briefly.

“Go get ’em, baby,” he murmured. “But no backflips or crazy shit. Please.”

You grinned. “Define crazy.”

“Running full speed downhill with no sense of self-preservation,” Amber supplied flatly.

“No promises,” you said, already bouncing on your toes.

Pontious was stretching like a track star. Jesse counted you off like a rodeo announcer.

And when the race began Gideon just stood there, hands on his hips, heart in his throat as you jumped over a log that wasn't in your way.

But he was smiling. Because you were his. Wild, ridiculous, fearless you. And God help him, he wouldn’t change a thing.

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 4

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: No cliffhangers this time, I promise. 😘

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Perilous situations, blood and violence, some more protective Russell, angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 4: “Mountain Man”

You were running for your life. 

Blood dripped down into your line of vision, but you swept it away from your face with a haphazard hand, along with your tears as you nearly stumbled on the path. 

A gunshot rang in your ears and hit a tree instead of your head.

Shit! You screamed and ducked, but you kept running…

After you tumbled down the hill, it was a small mercy that you didn’t break any bones when you eventually landed at the bottom. You’d stared up at the sky, winded, your back aching. Until you noticed Rick, one of Eddie’s men. He was sliding down the hill after you. 

You didn’t know what happened to your brother after he attempted to push you out of harm’s way. That thought alone gripped your heart like a vice, but you knew you couldn’t stay here on the ground either. 

You forced your body to move, whimpering at the pain and stiffness. Shakily you pushed onto your feet and slipped on dead leaves as you went. You moved your legs faster, until you were able to take off running deeper into the forest.

You gasped when your foot caught on a large rock. It sent you crashing into the ground. With your hands still bound, it made pushing yourself back up that much more difficult.

You spat out a couple of leaves. Fuck…

When Rick caught up to you, fear made you jolt into action. You wrapped your gathered hands around the rock that felled you and tossed it at him with all the strength you had. He blocked the projectile with the same hand that held his gun, like an idiot. You really couldn’t be blamed when the gun went off in his face.

He screamed, and so did you on reflex. Though his cheek and brow had been grazed by the bullet, he was lucky he still had both eyes. He blinked a bit of blood out of his left one. You scrambled back onto your feet and meant to keep running, but Rick still managed to surge forward and get a hold of your hair. 

Uttering a short scream, you grabbed his shirt and kneed him as hard as you could between the legs. You hoped you crushed his dick and balls.

“Oh, f—” He went down to the ground, sinking onto his knees as he dropped his gun. He glared up at you. “You little bitch!” 

You were panting for breath, but you didn’t wait for him to recover and grab his weapon again. 

You ran. 

You ran, even though you had no idea where you were going. You just knew that you couldn’t stay in one place. But if you couldn’t find your way around a college campus, how the hell were you supposed to navigate the damn Medicine Bow National Forest?

Along with your desperation and fear, tears kept filling your eyes whenever you thought of Charlie. 

Please, please, please…

“Goddamn, they could be anywhere,” Russell groused, as he and Colter hiked through the forest. He was, admittedly, breathing a bit harder from the trek uphill. “It’s been hours already.”

“It’s barely been an hour,” Colter reminded him. And he didn’t look winded in the least.

Bastard. Russell glanced at him, but then he focused on the horizon. The sun was finally starting to come up, which was good for them. They could see the trails more clearly.

“Remember when Dad used to make us free-climb the cliffs in Sierra?” Russell asked.

“Yeah,” Colter said. “You used to beat me every time. Wonder what happened to that guy.”

His tone was teasing. Russell shot him a look, half annoyed, and half amused.

“Yeah, well, he turned 40,” Russell replied.

Colter smiled, but both of them paused when they heard a gunshot ring out, followed by two more.

“That was close,” he said.

“Yeah,” Russell agreed, drawing his own gun. Colter did the same, and they hurried up a roaming hill that had Russell briefly peering over the side. In his mind’s eye, he had to shutter away the memory of seeing a body flung over the side in the dark and the rain. Then him looking over the edge of that cliff and recognizing his father’s twisted body.

And Colter, shouting up at him with angry, tearful, accusing eyes.

A male groan broke Russell out of his thoughts as he and his brother came up on a grim scene. Two men laid dead, and another young man with dark hair was lying prone on the ground, clutching his wounded leg. He’d been shot, though a gun also was held tightly in his own hand. He aimed it at the newcomers.

“Charlie?” Colter asked. He recognized the other man from your family photos.

Charlie blinked up at him in surprise, but not without a grim set to his jaw.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Russell let out a subtle breath. Colter was relieved as well.

“I’m Colter. This is my brother, Russell,” he said. “Your sister asked for our help to find you.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. All of them slowly lowered their weapons. Russell gestured at the bodies lying yards away from him.

“I’m guessing one of those guys is Eddie Mendez?” he said.

Charlie nodded, gesturing at the man closest to him with his gun. He groaned at the agony in his right thigh. Colter quickly went to his side and began to wrap a tourniquet around his leg to stem the bleeding.

“Did the bullet go through?” Colter asked.

“I think so,” Charlie replied.

“Where’s your sister?” Russell asked, his impatience evident in his stance and the way he held his gun while scanning his surroundings. His frown deepened when he didn’t see you.

“Oh, fuck!” Charlie said, and not at the pain of Colter wrapping his leg. His eyes were wide with panic. “Rick’s after her. I clipped him, but he slipped by me.”

“Where?” Russell asked. Charlie pointed down the side of the hill.

“Down there. Headed north I think, but I’m not sure,” he said quickly. “Help her, please!”

Russell didn’t need any encouragement. He started down the hill first. 

After making sure Charlie was stable for now, Colter followed after his brother a few minutes later. 

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

He turned sharply to see you coming out of your hiding place—a large fallen tree. A smile started to raise his lips, but no sooner had he taken one step in your direction, when he almost got a bullet in his head for his trouble. 

“Watch out!” you yelled. Rick came out into the clearing and aimed at you next. 

“Get down!” Russell shouted. 

Without blinking, he shot Rick three times: once in the shoulder, twice in the chest. 

The man went down. He was dead before he even met the ground. 

It was then that Colter finally caught up. Russell nodded at him, but his focus was on heading for the fallen tree after he stowed his gun.

The moment he took a step over it, you popped up with a yell, ready to smack him with a tree branch. He leaned back raised up his hands in defense. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay! It’s just me, slugger,” he said with a grin. 

You let out a sharp sigh of relief. The branch fell from your loose fingers. As you caught your breath, your mouth trembled, and your eyes filled with tears at the sight of him. 

Russell softened. He reached for you.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. Your hands slipped into his, and he helped you over the trunk of the tree. After using his handy pocketknife to cut through the zip ties binding your wrists together, you landed right into his waiting embrace. There, you spilled hot tears into his bulletproof vest. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha,” he said. His voice was low and soothing. “You’re okay.”

You raised your head with a desperate question in your eyes.

“Charlie?” you asked.

“Charlie’s okay too,” Russell assured. His hand soothed over your tangled hair and down your back. He could feel you trembling as you rested against him and sobbed. He held you tight, safe, as he rocked you a little from side to side. His own relief was a weight off his chest. 

Colter stood by and watched with a secret smile. 

With his bare hands clawing into damp soil, Colter dug up the crate Charlie buried near the base of the waterfall. True to his word, it was filled with precious artifacts. 

“Just, please be careful,” you warned him again over his shoulder. “These are quite literally hundreds of years old.”

Before Colter could assure you, again, that he’d be careful, you actually set a hand on his shoulder and implored him to move back.

“Matter of fact, sorry, let me do this part,” you said. “I’m the only one who’s really trained to handle these. Plus, your hands are dirty.”

Colter raised a brow, but he obliged you. He glanced over at his brother. Russell just watched in amusement while you opened the crate. 

You wished you had gloves on for this, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You stopped just shy of touching them—a bow and arrow, three spears, and a couple of knives. Each were crafted with wood and bone, with designs carved and accented in faded red and blue.

“Wow,” you whispered. Your historian heart was singing right now. 

You made sure each artifact was intact and hadn’t sustained water damage, then you covered them back up with the lid to the crate. 

“Okay, now you can take it, thank you. This thing is heavy,” you said, with a pat on Colter’s shoulder. 

His lips played at a smile, but he accepted the responsibility of carrying the crate.

Russell rested a hand on the small of your back to subtly help you back up the hill. You couldn’t help walking closer with him, your arm brushing against his side. You glanced up at him with a smile. He matched you, then looked up ahead. 

Charlie was waiting for you all while leaning against a tree. He still looked like utter hell—cut up, bruised, bloody, and now shot in the leg. You went to his side and gently grabbed his arm. 

“God, Charlie. You sure you’re okay?” you asked. He curled an arm around your shoulders and flashed you a familiar grin. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m like a cockroach. Just keep coming back,” he said.

You had to agree with that, laughing through the spark of your tears. Russell came on his other side and shouldered most of your brother's weight off his bad leg. 

“Okay, here we go. One step at a time,” Russell said.

Slowly, painfully, Charlie managed to make it back to Colter’s truck with you and Russell supporting him. Colter brought up the rear with the artifacts in tow. 

And behind you all, the sun broke more fully across the dewy trees in a morning swathed with orange and gold.

After Colter drove you and Charlie to the hospital, he and Russell took off again soon after to do something with the three bodies hidden under a tarp in the bed of the pickup truck. The thought made you shudder, along with the fact that the Shaw brothers knew how to hide bodies.

But you supposed it was better than the alternative.

As it was, you, Colter, and Charlie had to lie to the hospital staff about how you both had earned your injuries—in a brutal mugging, where Colter was able to scare off the men that got the jump on you and Charlie.

"I never saw their faces," as he'd later told the police, while the nurses prepped him for surgery. "I just tried to protect my sister the best I could."

You backed him up on the story, even as the lie felt bitter on your tongue and made you nervous (especially when you thought of poor Dr. Feinman).

Despite that little break-in at the museum yesterday, you'd never been good at being a rule breaker. Fortunately, Colter's calmness when he gave his corroborating statement helped you. Like Russell, he was a solid, anchoring presence...if in a different way.

For the crate of relics, Colter advised Charlie to ship them back to the museum anonymously. It would be the easiest way to encourage the police to lose steam on looking for who took them in the first place. You and your brother begrudgingly agreed, even if you had a secret thought of sending the artifacts to the NMAI. Maybe you could convince Charlie to send them there instead, or to one of the local Native American tribes here in Wyoming.

Hours later, however, you were able to finally be with your brother when he came out of surgery. In that time, your own bruises and the cut above your brow had been tended to in the Emergency Department. Now, you sat by his bedside while he slept off the anesthesia. You stroked his scuffed hand on the bed.

He really was a mess, you thought, as a tear rolled down your cheek. But he was alive. That was what mattered now.

A quiet knock at the door had you looking up, and then smiling to see Russell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, and in surprise. “Everything…went well?”

Russell’s lips quirked. “Yeah, we’re all set.”

No one would be finding those bodies anytime soon. He had a buddy in Denver, Colorado who happened to be a cremator. It was only a couple hours over from Laramie. He and Colter had just gotten back from driving the bodies there.

Before Colter drove over to Dory's apartment next, both to check on her and to fill her in on everything, he'd dropped Russell off at your house so he could get his car. He hadn’t felt right about leaving you in the hospital by yourself, even if you did have your brother.

Not without saying goodbye, at least.

“You know, I need to ask his doctor a question about his post-op care,” you said, gesturing at Charlie. “Can you stay with him for a minute while I go find a nurse?”

“Sure,” Russell agreed. You smiled gratefully and touched his arm as you passed him.

When you were gone, it left a heavy silence in your wake. Russell looked over at Charlie’s sleeping form. Russell sighed and sunk down into the chair beside the bed. He rubbed his tired face with both hands.

Shit. Now that he thought about it, he could’ve just told Colter to bring Dory here. He pulled out his phone to call his sister, when a low groan caught his attention.

Aw geez. What kinda timing, Russell thought, as he realized Charlie was waking up. His eyes slowly slid open, brows furrowing at the bright lights above him, then at the man beside him.

“Hey, man,” Russell said. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Charlie said, with another groan as he tried to stretch his body. He found he couldn’t yet move his leg. As awareness blinked back into his eyes, he settled on Russell with resignation.

“Thank you,” he said. “What you did for me, for her…I sure as hell didn’t deserve it, but thank you for saving her.”

Russell shook his head. “No need. Just get better.”

“Yeah. The doc says in a few months, I’ll be able to learn how to walk again,” Charlie said.

Russell gave him a firmer look.

“No, I mean get better,” he said. “You know you nearly got your sister killed.”

Charlie’s gaze fell. His face tightened, but really, he couldn’t even be upset at the accusation. He knew it was true, and his guilt already threatened to consume him. He also knew he should be in jail for what he’d done, and what he’d facilitated for months. After what nearly happened in the past twenty-four hours, he wasn’t sure how you could ever forgive him.

“Look, I served too. I know what you’re going through, being back here,” Russell said. “It feels wrong and right, don’t it?”

After a beat, Charlie nodded. “What branch?”

“Special Ops. I hear you were a pilot, Captain.”

“Yeah, I was,” Charlie said, his eyes lowering. “Now…now I don’t know what I am.”

“You’re her brother,” Russell said. Both his tone and his gaze all but demanded that the other man look him in the eyes. “Not her father or her son, her brother. I know you’ve been struggling. But I think you already know what you need to do, and figure out who you’re gonna be today, tomorrow, and the next.”

Charlie took in those words, and tried not to chafe at them coming from a near stranger. He knew, deep down, that all of it was right.

You came in a moment later with two cups of coffee. You brightened with a gasp when you saw that Charlie was awake.

“Hey.” He found a smile for you. You gave Russell the coffee you’d brought for him, but you quickly set yours down on the rolling tray so you could sit beside your brother.

Russell stepped out to give you two some privacy. You thanked him again and watched him go. Then, you turned back to Charlie with a tearful smile.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked.

“Have I said how much I love morphine?” Charlie remarked.

You rolled your eyes and took his hand in yours. “Yeah, how can I forget your thing for hard drugs.”

That hit sharper than a mere joke. His eyes fell away from yours. You sighed and bit your lip.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Charlie shook his head and covered your hand with his.

“No, I’m sorry. For everything I’ve put you through. And I don’t just mean today,” he said. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“All that matters is that you’re here, and you’re going to be fine,” you said. “I’ve already put together a list of what you’re going to need when we bring you home—”

Charlie stopped you with a squeeze of your hand.

“I’m not going home just yet,” he said.

“Well, no, not until they discharge you, but—”

Again, he gently cut you off. “You were right. I need treatment, and not just for this damn leg.”

He swept a hand through his hair and sighed.

“When they let me out of here, I’m going back to rehab,” he said. “After that, we’ll see.”

 Tears stung in your eyes…but you nodded in relief. You held both of his hands then.

“You’re not doing this alone,” you told him. “I’ll be with you, every step.”

 Charlie let out a self-deprecating chuckle. He felt he didn’t deserve that, but he smiled at you.

“I know. You’ll be nagging me in my head, even when you’re not there,” he said. You smirked and brushed his greasy hair away from his face.

“Damn straight,” you replied. “I’ve finally become Mom.”

Charlie shook his head in amusement, but he leveled you with a pointed finger.

“But for now, you need to go home and get some rest,” he said.

You reluctantly agreed with that too. After a full twenty-four hours without sleep, you realized that you were exhausted. You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you,” you said. “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow.”

“Good. Love you too,” said Charlie. His eyelids were starting to droop from the pain medication, but he forced himself to stay awake for a little while longer. He even helped you back onto your feet with a guiding hand on your back. “Wait, is someone staying with you tonight? I don’t want you to be alone.”

You grabbed up your purse. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve got that covered.”

Your brother quirked a suspicious smile at the look on your face. The one you tried to hide from him when you noticed his scrutiny.

“What, is it one of those guys who helped us?” he asked. “Is it the blonde one—Ken doll? Or the mountain man?”

Of course he knew their names, but he just wanted to mess with you. He could already see you getting flustered while you twisted the strap of your purse between your fingers and glanced at the door.

 “What? No! Just go to sleep. Take advantage of the morphine while you’ve got it,” you said. “Don’t worry. I’ll call Dory.”

Charlie leveled you with a look. “Mhmm.”

He pulled the blanket higher on his chest and watched you leave. When the door swung open, he saw Russell leaning against the wall, waiting for you. 

Charlie huffed. He should’ve known. 

Okay, mountain man.  

That was the last thought he had before he drifted off.

You left your brother’s room just about overwhelmed with a maelstrom of emotions. However, the moment you saw Russell waiting for you, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, it all distilled into one simple thing. 

He met your gaze and started to smile. 

You smiled back, and you went to him. 

You reached up to frame his face with both hands, and you searched for something in his eyes. They were tinged with surprise, but he waited on you, wondering what you were about to do. 

When you thought you found what you were looking for, you raised up on your toes and pressed your lips to his.

His hands unconsciously found your waist and held you to him. He met your lips in kind, and even deepened the connection. Your fingers slipped into his hair, lightly dragging your nails against his scalp. He hummed in pleasure. 

When your lips eventually parted from his, it was still too soon, he thought. Russell stared down at you with a question in his eyes—one he couldn’t help voicing.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

Ah… Russell’s smile evened out and faded slightly. 

So that was just a gesture of gratitude. He hoped you didn’t decide to thank Colter that way. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Russell said. “I’m glad Charlie’s all right.”

“No, I do need to. So thank you,” you said. Your hands drifted down his chest, plucking at the edge of his jacket. 

“I don’t really want to be alone today, to be honest,” you admitted. “Would you…want to…keep me company for a while? You could rest up at my place.”

Russell’s brows raised. His lips curved. 

“Well, sure. I could do that. Your couch seemed pretty comfortable,” he said. 

“You don’t have to stay on the couch,” you replied. 

And then, Russell finally read your meaning. He saw it in your eyes, staring up at him through your lashes.

Maybe that kiss was exactly what he thought it meant. His smile became more genuine.

“Well, okay,” he said eventually. He wrapped an arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home then.”

You leaned against his side and gave him a lazy salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He shook his head. His smile deepened into a grin.  

“You’re a little delirious, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Probably need some water,” you said with a giggle. “And God, I’m starving.”

Russell laid a gentle kiss to the side of your head that wasn’t bruised.

“All right, we’ll take care of that too,” he said.

“You know what I’m craving?” you asked. He looked down at you questioningly, and again he found your smile.

“Sriracha fries,” you said.

Russell busted out laughing at that. He fist-pumped the air with his free hand. 

“Hell, yeah.” 

For that, and much more, he would count today as a win. 

AN: There we go! A nice fluffy finish for you. How did you like how Charlie's arc wrapped up, along with her reunion with Russell? 💜

But just wait. We're not quite done yet...

Next Time:

He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5 (Finale!)

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[ohmaswife]

hey pookie🤭 i would like to request a lil somethin’🤨☝🏽 so i love the way you write ohma you just captured him perfectly and i’ve been feeling kinda fluffy lately and wanted to request a cute lil one shot of ohma asking y/n out on a first date and him being like “lets go rock climbing” and y/n being like “uhh lets do something more normal” and she takes him to places he’s never really been before like a fair or the movies or mini golfing (idk girl you choose😫🙏🏽) and cute and silly things happen between then and they share their first kithh😞<3

Cotton candy kisses.

Tokita Ohma x Reader

Summary: You and Ohma go on your first date.

*GN reader, no pronouns mentioned

Word count: ~3.2k

A/N: ofc my love!! 🥰 have a similar date fic i’m working on with Raian so that’s coming soon 💘 think i’m gonna upload deal w the devil 2 then some more agito hc’s!! :3 enjoy!!!💘

Masterlist

Ohma drags a hand through his hair, grumbling at his reflection. His hair’s always been wild, but now, when he actually wants it to look good, it’s not cooperating. He groans, tries flattening a few strands, then immediately messes them up again.

He tugs at his shirt, smoothing out a wrinkle that probably isn’t even there. He isn’t the type to fuss over his appearance, but tonight is different.

Not that he’s nervous, obviously. He just wants this to go right. It’s his first date with you, and for some reason, that thought carries more weight than anything else.

When he asked you out, he played it cool. Leaned against the wall, arms crossed, wearing that easy smirk of his since it’s second nature. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, but there was no way in hell he was gonna let that show.

“So,” he had said, voice smooth, full of confidence, “you should go out with me.”

Not ‘would you like to’? Not ‘do you want to’? Just a simple statement, like the answer was already obvious.

You had blinked up at him, and damn, that look on your face made his stomach flip in a way he wasn’t gonna think too hard about. “Oh? And what kind of date are you planning, Tokita?”

Ohma had grinned, pushing off the wall, standing just a little closer. “Something exciting,” he said, voice low, cocky. “Free solo climbing. Or maybe something better.”

He had expected intrigue, interest, maybe even a little challenge in your eyes. What he hadn’t expected was for you to giggle, soft and sweet, and place your hand on his arm, warmth spreading through his skin at the touch.

“Of course I’ll go out with you, Ohma,” you had said, voice full of affection. “But maybe something not as dangerous? I want to survive our first date”

And just like that, his whole plan shifted.

Now, instead of scaling cliffs or pulling some reckless stunt, he’s taking you to a fair.

At first, he wasn’t sure about it. He’s never been to one, never thought about going. But the way your eyes had lit up when you told him about it, the excitement in your voice as you talked about the games, the rides, the food. He’d found himself agreeing before he even realized it.

He runs a hand through his hair one last time, huffs when it falls right back into place, then shakes his head with a grunt. Whatever, he’s ready. More than ready.

Tonight is gonna be good.

The warm glow of lights fills the night sky as you and Ohma step through the entrance of the fair, the soft sounds of laughter, music, and the distant hum of rides blending together in a kind of rhythmic chaos. You take a deep breath, the air heavy with the sweet scent of cotton candy and popcorn, and turn to Ohma, a grin spreading across your face.

“Ohma, welcome to your first fair!” you say, your voice light with excitement as you glance up at him. “Everything’s so colorful and lively, isn’t it?”

Ohma glances down at you, his usual confident demeanor softening slightly as he takes in the scene. His dark eyes, normally focused and intense, are wide with wonder as he surveys the entire atmosphere. Soaking in the brightly lit carnival games, the towering Ferris wheel, the flashing neon signs, and the merry-go-round spinning slowly in the distance.

He’s never seen anything like it before, a place full of chaos, but in a good way.

And even more than that, he’s here with you.

He lets out a quiet exhale, the excitement of the date buzzing through him, mixing with the unfamiliar energy of the fair. His gaze shifts to you, really taking you in for the first time tonight. You’re dressed cute and casual, yet effortlessly beautiful. Your hair is soft around your face, and the smile you give him lights up your eyes in a way that has his heart skipping a beat.

“You look good,” he mutters, almost absentmindedly, but his voice carries a sincerity that makes you smile even wider.

“Thank you,” you reply, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “You do too.”

His smirk reappears, that easy confidence flickering back into his posture, but it’s clear there’s a part of him that’s still a little in awe of the situation. Being here with you, being surrounded by all this newness, the uncertainty of it all mixing with his excitement.

“Alright,” you say, slipping your hand into his, and Ohma’s eyes flash with the briefest look of surprise before he squeezes your hand, his fingers warm and firm around yours. “Let’s go check out the rides first! I think you’ll really like the Ferris wheel.”

He chuckles softly, following along as you guide him through the crowd. His eyes sweep the fairgrounds again, catching sight of the carnival games, the food stalls, and the spinning rides. He’s used to being on the move, but usually focused on something more dangerous. But here, walking beside you, taking in all the noise and lights, he’s out of his element.

He glances at you with a small smirk. “So… when do we start climbing the walls or doing something reckless?”

You laugh and give his arm a playful squeeze, shaking your head. “Not today, Ohma. Today’s all about having fun, and maybe winning me a stuffed animal at one of these games.”

He was already planning on it.

You’re chatting happily about the games, but Ohma’s focus drifts back to you, your laughter, the way your voice lifts with excitement at every turn, making him feel genuinely happy.

But there’s still that flutter in his chest. And yeah, he’s definitely not used to feeling like this, but with you by his side, it feels easy.

Eventually, you stop at a cotton candy stall, and without even thinking, you buy one for yourself, handing it to Ohma.

He eyes the sugary fluff with mild suspicion. “This… dissolves in your mouth?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

You nod enthusiastically. “Yep! Just take a bite.”

He hesitates for a moment, then gingerly takes a small bite. His brow furrows as the sweetness hits his tongue, and he looks at you, puzzled. “Why does it disappear in my mouth? Food doesn’t do that.”

You burst out laughing at his genuine confusion, admiring how endearing he looks trying to make sense of the cotton candy. “It’s magic, isn’t it?” you tease, reaching over to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “But yeah, it just melts away because it’s mostly air and sugar.”

He shakes his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Weird. But… kinda cool.”

You beam at him, “I knew you’d like it!” you giggle.

And as you laugh, Ohma takes a moment to just watch you. How your eyes sparkle in the glow of the lights, how your smile seems to make the world feel just a little brighter. The flutter in his chest isn’t new, but it’s stronger tonight, like it’s pressing against him with every beat of his heart. He’s not used to feeling this grounded, this happy.

He’s had his share of reckless adventures, but none of them come close to this. Being here with you, sharing these little moments, makes him want more. More of this, more of you. And damn, if he isn’t excited for everything that’s to come.

He reaches for your hand again, his thumb brushing over your fingers as he pulls you a little closer. There’s no way he’s letting this night slip away. Not now, not when it feels like this.

You both continue to make your way through the fair, and as much as you’re trying to keep things casual, there’s an undeniable pull between you and Ohma. It’s like you’re both discovering a whole new side of each other, one that’s lighthearted and full of laughter.

You pass by the game booths, and Ohma stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing at the stuffed animals hanging in the windows of the claw machine.

“Alright, I think it’s time,” he says, his voice low and confident, the usual smirk of his creeping back onto his face. “Let’s see if I can win you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “Oh? And what makes you so sure you’ll win?”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, completely unfazed. “You’re talking to someone who can do anything. Besides, it’s just a little claw machine.”

You chuckle, watching as Ohma steps up to the machine, his posture relaxed but still somehow exuding that same arrogance. He pops a coin in the slot, his eyes narrowing with perfect concentration as he lines up the claw over the giant plush bear you’d been eyeing. You bite your lip, excited to see how he does. He’s definitely acting like he’s done this before.

When the claw slowly descends and grabs the plush bear, you can’t help but feel your heart race a little, even though it’s just a silly game. The claw shakes and struggles, but then, to your complete surprise, it lifts the bear up, and with a little wobble, it drops into the prize chute.

“Oh my God, you did it!” you exclaim, completely impressed, your voice full of excitement.

Ohma grins, completely smug about his success. He reaches down and grabs the bear, holding it out to you with a raised eyebrow. “Told you,” he says, his voice full of playful arrogance. “Easy.”

You can’t help but laugh, taking the stuffed animal from his hands. “Okay, okay, maybe you’re a little good at this,” you admit, the corners of your lips curling upward.

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I told you I could do anything,” he murmurs in your ear, the playful glint in his eyes making you blush. “But hey, I’ll do even better if I win you more.”

As you walk away, your new bear in hand, Ohma keeps glancing at you, a soft smile on his face. You can’t stop giggling at how sweet he’s being, your heart warm with the simple joy of being with him.

The night continues with a steady stream of silliness: riding the Ferris wheel with Ohma nervously trying to keep his cool while you laugh at his exaggerated reactions, taking photos with goofy props at a photo booth, and sampling more ridiculous fair food that you both can’t stop laughing about.

At one point, after trying fried dough together, Ohma turns to you, a bit of powdered sugar on his nose, and asks, “So, how’s the date going? You having fun?”

You can’t help but laugh at his innocent question, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m having an amazing time,” you say, reaching up to wipe a bit of sugar from his nose. “It’s perfect.”

He watches you for a moment, his gaze softening. “I’m glad,” he replies, voice unexpectedly quiet for a moment, before the playful smirk is back. “But don’t get too used to this. I’m a lot more dangerous than just winning stuffed animals.”

You laugh again, nudging him playfully as you walk beside him. “I’ll take my chances.”

His lips curl into a cocky grin, his tone low and teasing. “Good. Because you don’t know what you’re in for yet.”

You shake your head, laughing, but feeling that same flutter in your chest. Ohma really is full of surprises, and you’re starting to think this might just be the best night you’ve had in a long time.

You and Ohma stroll past more booths, giggling about the ridiculous fair food you’ve tried, when your eyes land on a little ride, a classic spinning teacup ride. The colorful cups are spinning in a circle, people laughing as they get twirled around.

“Oh Ohma, we have to go on this one!” you say, practically bouncing on your heels with excitement.

Ohma raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “This little thing? You sure you can handle it?”

You grin up at him, putting on your best mischievous look. “I think it’s you who’s gonna have trouble keeping up.”

He chuckles, glancing you over with a teasing glance. “Oh, I can handle anything. But I have to admit,” His gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes softening slightly before that smirk returns, “It’s hard to concentrate with you looking this good.”

You laugh, heat rising up to your ears as you roll your eyes. “Keep it up Tokita, and I might actually start thinking you’re a charmer.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a charmer,” he replies, his tone confident but playful, just the way he always speaks when he’s teasing you. “But let’s see if I can charm you into going faster on this thing.”

As you climb into one of the cups, Ohma steps in after you, his shoulder brushing yours. He sits beside you, his thigh pressed against yours, and you feel that familiar warmth spread through you. The ride operator starts it up, and before you know it, the cup begins to spin slowly.

At first, it’s a calm spin, the soft breeze against your face as you watch the lights blur in the distance. You glance over at Ohma, who looks surprisingly calm, his eyes fixed on you with a small, teasing smile.

“This isn’t so bad,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. “I thought you’d be freaking out by now!”

Ohma grins, leaning in just a little closer. “Just wait.”

Suddenly, with a swift turn of his hand on the wheel, the teacup spins much faster, making you yelp in surprise. You try to hold onto the edge of the seat as the world blurs around you, but Ohma’s gentle chuckle fills the air, and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Ohma!” you giggle, trying to keep your balance as he continues to spin you around. “You’re such a troublemaker!”

He smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “What can I say? I’m just keeping you on your toes.”

You give him a playful push, but your laughter only makes the ride more fun. The spinning finally slows as the ride comes to an official stop, and as you both catch your breath, you can’t help but notice how close you are. The heat of Ohma’s body against yours, his hand still lightly gripping the wheel.

“I think I’m officially dizzy now,” you say, your voice a little breathless.

Ohma leans back, his arm casually resting around the back of your seat, gaze softening as it locks with yours. “I’m just getting started,”

He looks at you for a moment longer, his eyes softening, then he leans closer. “But hey, even dizzy, you’re still the most beautiful thing here,” he murmurs with sincerity, making you blush all over again.

Stepping out of the teacup your knees wobble from the spinning, but the smile on your face never fades. Ohma offers you his hand, grinning softly as he looks at you with a quiet fondness.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice much more gentle.

You take his hand, giving him a teasing smile. “Oh yeah, i’m fine!” Your smile softens as you look up at him, your heart warm from the simple joy of being with him. “I’m just really happy you asked me out.”

Ohma’s expression shifts, just for a moment, as if he’s taken aback by your sincerity. His usual confident smirk softens, replaced by something tender, a flicker of warmth in his dark eyes. “Me too,” he says quietly, squeezing your hand just a little tighter.

The moment hangs in the air between you, and for a second, everything feels still, like the world around you is just waiting. You’re standing so close to him, your hearts beating in sync. There’s something different now, something deeper in the air that wasn’t there before.

You look up at him, and the way he’s gazing down at you, with that same softness but now more intent, makes your heart race. The playful teasing from earlier has melted away, replaced by a quiet intimacy that pulls you closer, like he’s drawing you in.

For a heartbeat, neither of you move, the tension between you growing thick and sweet. You can’t quite figure out what’s happening, but you know you want it, want him, more than anything. Your breath catches, the nervous excitement bubbling up inside of you.

Ohma doesn’t hesitate. One second, he’s watching you with that quiet intensity, and the next, he’s closing the space between you, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as his lips press against yours.

His kiss is warm and sure, his lips just slightly chapped, but still soft against yours. He tastes good, so distinctly him, and it’s enough to leave you lightheaded. His fingers tighten at the back of your neck, firm yet careful, while his other hand slides to your waist, pulling you close. The heat of his palm bleeds through your clothes, and when his thumb dips beneath the hem of your shirt to brush your skin, you shiver beneath his touch.

You melt against him, your fingers curling into his shirt collar as if holding on for balance. It’s impossible not to, everything about him feels so solid, so warm, so right. The kiss is sweet but not at all hesitant. It’s steady and deliberate, quietly claiming you in a way that’s both tender and undeniable.

A low, quiet groan rumbles in his chest, barely more than a breath, but you feel it vibrate against your lips. The sound makes your heart stutter, and you can’t help but press closer. Ohma breaks the kiss just enough to smirk against your mouth, his thumb still tracing slow, lazy circles along your waist. His gaze flicks to your lips again, and before you can say a word, he leans in once more.

This time, his kiss is slower, deeper, a little less careful but no less sweet. His hand slips from your waist to your lower back, pulling you flush against him, and it’s impossible to think about anything else. The warmth of him, the strength in his hands, the way his mouth moves with such quiet purpose, it leaves you breathless. You’ve wanted this for so long, imagined it a hundred times over, but nothing could compare to this. The heat, the softness, the way his kiss makes your head spin. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and you can’t stop smiling against his mouth.

When he pulls away again, his lips hover just above yours. With his breath shallow and his gaze intense, you can see the raw emotion behind his eyes. There’s no playful teasing anymore, just a sincerity that makes your heart feel so full.

“Well,” he starts quietly, voice low and steady, but filled with longing. He brushes his thumb gently over your cheek, his gaze flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Was this a good date?”

You’re still floating, the intensity of the kiss and the moment rushing through your body. You nod without thinking, your heart swelling as you whisper back simply, “It was perfect.”

His lips curve into a small, satisfied smile. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, slow and sure, making sure you know exactly what this means.

[inky-writing]

Book II, Chapter 10: The Jump

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: my bad writing, confrontation, Bella being cringe, Alice is back, life is cary, also i'm sorry it's kinda short but i'll make it up to you with the next parts :)

Word count: 1,197

<<< Previous part

March 16, 2006

Y/N had been avoiding Paul successfully for days now. Ever since their first encounter at Emily’s house, he had taken it upon himself to drop by nearly every afternoon, knocking on her door like a persistent salesman. At first, she had assumed he would lose interest after the first few ignored visits—but no. He had only grown more determined.

Today was no different. She sat on the couch, flipping through her grimoire, her fingers tracing the inked symbols on the pages, trying to focus on anything other than the inevitable knock at the door. But instead of Paul's voice cutting through the quiet, a sharp rap from outside startled her.

She exhaled, bracing herself, but when she peeked through the window, she only saw the mailman walking back to his truck.

Her brows furrowed. No Paul today?

Pushing herself up from the couch, she walked to the door and stepped outside, the crisp March air making her shiver slightly. Her eyes landed on the mailbox, the small metal door barely able to close over the thick envelopes stuffed inside.

Y/N pulled them out, flipping through them, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the university logos on the top left corner of the envelopes. These were her answers—her fate.

Her fingers twitched, itching to tear them open right there on the porch, but before she could, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped her attention away.

Jacob’s old red truck rumbled to a stop, and as soon as the engine cut, Bella stumbled out of the passenger seat.

She was drenched.

Water dripped from the ends of her tangled hair, soaking into the hoodie she had pulled tightly around herself. Her skin was paler than usual, lips slightly blue from the cold.

Y/N’s heart lurched in alarm. "Bella? What the hell happened?" she demanded, stepping forward.

Jacob got out slower, his face tense, jaw clenched as he slammed the truck door shut. "She jumped off a damn cliff," he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his damp hair. "I barely got to her in time before the current pulled her under."

Y/N’s mouth fell open. "You did what?!"

Bella sighed, rubbing her forehead. "It wasn’t a big deal. People do it all the time, Jacob is just overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Jacob growled, stepping closer. "You almost drowned, Bella. If I hadn’t been in the water—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply, his fists clenched at his sides.

Y/N turned back to Bella, fury and concern warring inside her. "Why?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Bella looked away, arms tightening around herself. "I just… needed to feel something," she admitted quietly. "And I saw—" She stopped, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. "Never mind. It doesn’t matter."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "She thought she saw Cullen," he muttered bitterly. "That bloodsucker’s got her seeing ghosts."

Y/N’s chest tightened.

Edward.

Of course.

She hadn’t told Bella about Carlisle’s return, about their meetings, about everything. And now, standing here, watching Bella shiver in the aftermath of what was clearly a reckless attempt to reach out to someone who had abandoned her, Y/N felt a pang of guilt.

But before she could say anything else, Jacob's expression darkened further. "Also… Harry Clearwater had a heart attack today," he said, his voice quieter now. "He didn’t make it."

Y/N’s breath caught.

"What?" Bella whispered, the color draining further from her already pale face. "Harry’s… dead?"

Jacob nodded solemnly. "Charlie's with Sue and the kids now."

Bella pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. Harry Clearwater had always been a presence in the background of their lives—one of Charlie’s closest friends, a warm and kind man who had never hesitated to help when needed. The loss settled heavily on her chest.

And then, just when the weight of the day felt like it couldn't possibly get heavier—

A sharp knock echoed from the front door.

The three of them turned instantly, muscles tensed.

Y/N felt it before she saw her.

A ripple of something… electric, something powerful, something that hummed in her bones.

Then, through the small window of the door, golden eyes gleamed back at her.

Alice.

Bella gasped and ran toward the door, yanking it open so fast the hinges groaned.

"Alice?"

The vampire stood on the threshold, looking completely untouched by the cold storm raging outside. Her inky black hair was tousled in perfect, controlled chaos, her golden eyes wide, filled with an emotion Y/N couldn’t quite place—shock, relief, confusion.

"Bella," Alice breathed, stepping inside before looking at Jacob. Immediately, her nose scrunched in distaste. "Wolf," she muttered.

Jacob bristled. "Vampire," he shot back.

"Alice!" Bella grabbed the vampire’s ice-cold hands, her face a mixture of emotions. "What are you doing here?"

Alice blinked, her golden gaze flickering between Bella and Y/N before settling fully on Bella. "I saw you jump," she said, her voice tight, controlled. "I saw you die."

Jacob scoffed. "Yeah, well, maybe your visions need a tune-up, because she’s standing right here."

Alice ignored him. "I thought—I thought I lost you," she admitted, her voice quieter now, strained.

Bella’s expression softened. "I’m okay," she reassured. "I swear."

Alice let out a slow breath, shaking her head. "Edward thinks you’re dead."

Silence.

Bella stiffened. "What?"

"He called your house," Alice explained. "Jacob answered. He didn’t tell Edward you were alive."

Bella’s head snapped toward Jacob. "Jacob—"

"He didn’t ask," Jacob interrupted, folding his arms. "Not my fault he jumped to conclusions."

"What is he going to do?" Y/N interjected, sensing the shift in Alice’s posture.

Alice’s lips parted slightly, then pressed together, as if debating how much to say. Finally, she exhaled. "He’s going to the Volturi."

Y/N frowned. "Who?"

"The vampire royalty," Alice answered, her voice clipped. "They don’t take kindly to our kind exposing themselves. If Edward asks them to kill him, they will."

Bella’s breathing picked up. "We have to stop him."

Alice nodded. "Then pack your bags. We’re leaving for Italy."

Jacob stepped forward. "No. Absolutely not. Bella—"

"Jake, I have to," Bella cut him off, her voice firm, final.

Jacob’s jaw clenched. "He left you, Bella. He doesn’t deserve—"

"It’s not about what he deserves," Bella snapped. "I’m not letting him die because of me."

Jacob shook his head, looking to Y/N for support, but she just sighed.

"She’s going," Y/N said simply. "You can’t stop her."

Jacob exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is insane."

"Welcome to our world," Alice murmured before turning to Bella. "Let’s go."

Bella turned to Y/N, her eyes pleading. "Come with me."

Y/N hesitated. Her mind flashed back to Carlisle, to their last night together. He’d said he would come back soon. If he returned and found her gone…

But then again, it was Italy. And the Volturi.

And something told her this was bigger than just Edward’s impulsive decision.

Y/N sighed, shoulders dropping. "Let me grab my passport."

Next part >>>

Tag list: @inky-bonnie @irelanrose @i-cant-pick-an-aesthetic09 @wandererthemadhatter

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Magic, Spiders, Fire, and A Blip 🌠 | Marvel Headcanon

Marvel Masterlist

Note: I need these three characters to interact at some point in the upcoming projects and so this was a result of that need 💀 I plan though on making another one of these but with America, Shuri, & Cassie!

Being an Avenger with the power to teleport during the events of Doomsday & becoming best friends with Peter Parker, Johnny Storm, and Billy Maximoff would look like:

As you can imagine, you four together are absolute chaos. Picture this: following an accident in your college lab in which you were exposed to godly levels of radiation, you gained the power to teleport to and from any place you put your mind to. Thinking about a shopping day in Paris? Blip. See a show at the Sydney Opera House? Blip. Hibachi in Tokyo? Blip.

You got under Sam's radar when he and Bucky were dealing with rogue super soldiers--Sharon Carter being the one to inform Sam of your ability as you had been hiding out in Madripoor from your home country's government. Sam recruited you with promise of protection if you helped them and you agreed. From then on you became an ally of Sam as he took on the mantle of Captain America and aided him in missions.

It's no surprise that you become involved when Doctor Doom arrives to do what supervillains do--you know, try to destroy the universe--even though Sam is hesitant. This time around the Avengers find themselves with a much...younger bunch of heroes than what they're accustomed to, therefore stakes are high, and the older Avengers are often reminded just how young some of you are.

"So, what's your story, blondie?" "I can set myself of fire and fly. You?" "Teleportation." "Ah...so that's why they call you blip."

"I'm feeling really optimistic about this." "How can you be optimistic about us having no plan?" "Hey, Spider, at least magic man has hope for us." "I second that."

Peter Parker already knew what to expect when it came to a multiversal, planet extinction, genocidal maniac level threat. Now add a chaos magic wielding reincarnated son of the Scarlet Witch, Billy Maximoff, and a flying, fire infused, fantastic Disney prince looking Johnny Storm and the four of you become a team within the team. Gaining a bond long after defeating Doom and going back to your regularly scheduled lives.

There's no question, you guys give your fellow Avengers headaches even when there is no mission and the risk of lives at stake. Y'all are the life of the party and during functions you can expect there to never be a dull moment. For example, the dance floor could be dead but the second you four step on it becomes a vibe. You'll form a mini circle which then gets bigger as the others join in. "Go Billy! Go Billy!" "Peter! Throw it in a circle and let Johnny catch it!"

You guys have movie and game nights pretty much every weekend--except when you have to save the world--where you set up Switch games or pull out a classic board game while a movie plays on the tv. It gets intense when y'all play Mario Kart and Smash Bros because then all goes out the door seeing as all of you are competitive. "Who the fuck just cut me off!? Which one of you is baby Luigi?" "Not me blip--I'm Yoshi." "It's Wiccan! He just threw a shell at me!" "Shut up, Peter!"

"Damn it, Blip--will you let me breathe here!?" "Not a chance, Spider." "Stop throwing fire balls at me, Johnny!" "Then stop pushing me off the cliff!"

Whenever one of y'all has a problem there will be a group meeting to discuss. Whether it's relationship advice, family drama, a new enemy emerging, etc., you have each other's back. It becomes easier to gather everyone when you guys decide to share an apartment at Avengers campus or rent one in the city. "I call this meeting to order and ask that you wait until all details have been relayed before speaking." "Sir/ma'am, yes, sir/ma'am." "Okay, there's this guy/girl..." "WHO!!?!!"

You guys have nicknames/inside jokes for each other that are different from your superhero aliases and are likely y'alls contact names. Johnny is Ken because he looks and acts like a real-life Ken Doll. Billy is Billie Eilish--which must I say more? He gives off major Billie Eilish energy. Peter is Umbrella because he's obsessed with the Rihanna song and blasts it whenever he's going through a mood. And you are Lemon Drop after drinking one too many lemon drop martinis at a gala and they had to take care of you.

Your group chat name is The Fabulous (Chaotic) Four (Johnny's idea) and the group photo is Bucky Barnes holding up Doom's helmet with Sam's goggles on and a thumbs up. You change it though whenever it's someone's birthday. On Peter's it's his meet & greet photo with Rihanna when he went to her concert. On Johnny's it's him in his space suit flipping off the camera. On yours it's a selfie you took at the top of the Statue of Liberty dressed as the Statue of Liberty. And on Billy's it's him at a rave wearing light up glasses with his tongue sticking out.

And because you guys are all superheroes with powers, you take advantage of it. During the harsh winters you all practically cling to Johnny who radiates heat like the sun. Whenever you want to take a trip anywhere without informing the rest of the Avengers your teleportation comes in handy. Billy will use his magic to fix anything in the apartment and cook complex meals for you guys since he can have multiple things going at once. And Peter has his spider-senses to alert you all if something is happening in the area.

Y'all miss each other whenever one of you has to leave for a mission without them. Sam calls for you often, Johnny has the Fantastic Four, Billy will sometimes disappear doing God knows what and Peter still devotes himself to being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man in the city. It feels like a piece is missing from your little pie whenever someone is gone, but don't worry once Y'all are back together it's like no one left.

Something y'all would be tempted to --and highly advised not to- have a YouTube channel where you post vlogs and videos of random shit. You'd post videos like, "Teleporting to Ibiza for the day because I can," while the boys tend to film in the middle of a mission, "Today we're gonna take you guys on an adventure as we investigate the odd occurrences happening in New York." "When is there not odd things happening in New York?" "Touché"-- "I'm not going to say it again, turn that camera off!!"

[2kverrr]

MATT TAYLOR || Dating Headcanons

UNTIL DAWN || 2.2k Words

like every other year, the washington family open up their lodge to their teenagers for the winter. everybody had been waiting for this time of year, booze all week long, no rules, only friends, snowfights, blasting music in the middle of nowhere - to put it shortly, it's haven.

big movie nights on the big projector with hot chocolates and lots and lots of booze

you and matt had been plotting activities since summer, dodgeball in the main living area - come on, it's massive. what else are you meant to do in a room that big?

sledding - even if it meant falling off the edge of a cliff, its all apart of the fun.

matt loved making plans with you, you've never been too sure why, because you're not very punctual, you're an extremely dangerous driver and quite forgetful.

he's an attractive guy, sporty and in shape, really kind; it was a mystery to you why he was still single. it's not like girls actually go for brains anymore - you don't think so anyway.

secretly the group were rooting for the two of you, you oblivious of course, but matt had planned this all out, all fun and games but then you 'accidentally' trip or 'accidentally' fall and in desperate need of a knight in shining armour, then that's where he comes in, heroic and masculine, you are immediately in love with him, you get married, move to fiji and have 4 kids (the first of the bunch HAD to be called matt. jr). it's pretty specific.

it's the day of the winter break we'd all been waiting for, mike had already prepped matt for this big breakthrough. mike slaps his hand onto his face and slowly drags it drown with a grown, "bro, stop being such a pussy - worst she can say is no. no?" the two continue to stroll towards the lodge, slightly unsure where they were headed in the snowy atmosphere. “yeah, i get that,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “but what if she laughs at me?” the thought made his stomach twist uneasily, and he shot mike a frantic glance. you knew matt's used to being the object of jealousy, he's much like mike in that sense, he doesn't have to do much to be adored by people. “dude, she’s not some goddess in a tower,” mike said, rolling his eyes. “she's just a girl! think about it. you’ve spent half your life being friends, spilling deepest and darkest secrets, spending the majority of your time together - hell even your distant family have nicknames for him. "god damn it man! you know her better than anyone, so you should be first to know how she'd react.” matt shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to portray an air of confidence he didn’t truly feel. “just be yourself. you’ve got this.” he whispers, spotting you exiting from the ski lift, patting matt on the shoulder and leaving him with you.

the walk up was oddly awkward, in fact the first 3 days were uncomfortable with the curly-headed boy.

of course, that did not stop you from getting black out drunk every night. day drinking faded into beer pong, then faded into shot competitions, then another cheeky drink when you woke up to prevent any hangover.

matt tried his hardest to get you to lay off the drink, but automatically josh would interrupt and tempt you even more.

it had to be past midnight at this rate, ashley fell asleep on the couch with chris, beth gently placing a blanket over the two of them. sam was attempting to defuse a row between mike and emily as hannah observed hopefully, while josh was falling asleep mid-conversation with jess - embarrassing. all while you were basically fighting matt to grab the bottle out of his hands. “give!” you reach out, but just like every other time, matts long arms push at your shoulder to keep your distance. you huff, stumbling back with half closed eyes, “cocksucker. i’ll find something else. hell - i’d eat crack if josh had any.” you remark with flailing arms. you had promised yourself a good time, a good time that didn’t involve battling your best friend for a taste of liquor. "come on, how about we go find the biggest bed for you to sleep in, i'm sure emily won't notice." his eyebrows raise, awaiting your drunken response. your mouth drops in a shocked manor and your eyebrows furrow as though your offended, "wow - matt, nice going." you try to cross your arms but you end up stumbling into the counter, the boy's hands immediately reach out to stabilise you. "it'd take a lot more than that to take me to bed, thank you very much, mr taylor." you scold, trying to inject a sense of indignation into your slurred words. the room felt like it was swaying gently; perhaps it was the alcohol or maybe just your overwhelming desire to keep your balance. you glared at matt, half-heartedly trying to regain your composure, but the corners of your mouth couldn't help but twitch into a smirk.

you couldn't remember much after that, besides the blinding light bursting through the curtains beaming into your eyes, only a single silhouette there to block it.

you're quite used to getting black out drunk, in fact you've got a casual routine, wake up, hole into your head until you stumble towards the cabinet wherever you are, managing to grab some sort of pill. lie in the bath - this is a crucial step. no water besides from when you awkwardly attempt to drink some from the tap. eventually you throw up the pills you'd taken, so you take a few more. at this point you should be okay to get up and carry on with your day.

you tell yourself this is how it’s meant to be; the routine is as much a part of your identity as the lingering pallor in your cheeks. you’ll put on a brave face, mask the chaos with a smile, and carry on with your day, ever-so-slightly hopeful that today might be different.

though you're not so used to going on a three day bender, every drink you consume having at least a drop of some form of alcohol. so your routine didn't exactly apply.

"hey," a voice whispers, slowly placing a cold cloth on your head, “you okay?” it’s light and gentle, a contrast to the erratic thrum inside your skull.

you squint against the light and the silhouette shifts, revealing matt, but this time with a softer expression, worry etched into the corners of his eyes. “you were insane last night,” he says, half-smiling, half-concerned. matt takes a deep breath, the worry still lingering in his eyes, and leans back in his chair, allowing you some space.

“seriously, what were you thinking?” he asks, his tone shifting to something more serious.

“you can’t just push yourself like that, especially when you know you haven’t slept in days.” the warmth of his concern wraps around you, thick and palpable, grounding you even as the room spins slightly.

"shit, " you roll over, while trying to sit yourself up, "i'm really sorry" your hands slowly and deeply massage your face, "can't remember a thing."

matt softly chuckles, placing his hands onto the arm rests, “well, where to begin? you were fighting me for a drink. scolded me for tying to sleep with you, which was the opposite of what i was doing. you searched the house for cigarettes and eventually gave up and tried to uber 3 bricks of coke to the lodge. erm… you threw up in the hot tub, on the counter, on emily, on me and i think a bit of miles show when you threw up on emily for the second time.”

you suppress a groan, sinking back into the chair as matt’s words cascade over you, each one accompanied by an embarrassing flashback that jolts through your mind like electric shocks.

"what?" it was all you could say. frozen and still in your own embarrassment.

“oh! and let’s not forget the part where you tried to convince jessica that she was actually a mystical mermaid forced on earth to enchant her way into human hearts."

you open your mouth to speak but the curly-haired boy continues.

“-not quite done yet, darling. you couldn’t let go of this ‘mermaid theory’, convinced you could see jess’s scales. so you flung your drink at her and then yelled ‘be free, my aquatic queen’ right in her face.”

you wince, burying your head in your hands. “for fuck's sake, please tell me you're lying,” you let out a muffled groan. matt's infectious laughter rings in your ears, despite your mortification and god awful pain you're in.

matt leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “and after your mermaid debacle, you decided to perform a dramatic interpretation of 'under the Sea' from The Little Mermaid for the whole living room."

you immediately butt in, "liar!" you rarely ever laugh in front of your friends, never mind whatever this is.

"i swear I’ve never seen sam laugh and cry at the same time.” he shakes his head, barely able to contain his amusement as he gestures broadly, “you were flapping your arms like a fish out of water, and the way you-“

you roll your eyes, “enough!” you raise your voice, a slight anger in your tone as your embarrassment begins to ebb. you immediately feel bad for the once giddy boy, "sorry, i don't usually tend to have hangovers this bad…" you say, a hand attempting to tame the pounding in you heard, you put the boy at ease with a smile, "…did i at least have a good audience?"

"an audience of friends who might never look at you the same way again,” he teases, but his smile is warm and understanding. “but hey, that’s what makes us family, right? You do something outrageous, and we love you for it. maybe not jess… or emily. but the rest of us do. i love you.” his words hang in the air, unsure of their stance, good bad? neither of you knew.

“you love me?” you manage to say, half teasing and half genuinely astonished, heart fluttering uncomfortably in your chest.

he briefly fixes his posture, shuffling in his seat, “maybe. even thought you can be a bitch and you have a slight alcohol issue, you’re still lovable.”

you take a moment to take a note of reality, the mess on the floor, presumably caused by you. your hair was unspeakable, makeup smudged, deep and heavy eye bags, one of your lashes hanging off your cheek while your other was probably exploring the outside, it’s definitely… a look.

“even after all this?” you wave down your body and across the room

he leans forward, fiddling with his thumbs, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “that’s exactly it,” he says gently, “you’re unpredictable, messy and unapologetically you, and i think it’s fucking awesome. you’re so… so, so, so real.”

his sincerity makes the room feel smaller, as it the weight of his words could encircle you both in an element of quiet intimacy. you can throw but smile, your heart swelling. “so, what does this mean for us?” you query hopefully.

“maybe it’s the start of something new.”

you made the bold decision to lay off of the drink for your own sake (also because it took you the rest of the week to recover) - instead you’d accompany matt in whatever he was up to.

mike felt a bit disappointed that his pep talk was wasted on a sappy conversation rather than a manly knight in shining armour act.

jess eventually forgave you, insuring you tell her everything about the two of you. emily would occasionally listen in nonchalantly as she clearly hadn’t forgave you for the sick-tuation (get it? i’m so sorry)

matt takes pride in waking you up with a drink or some food, it’s a bit difficult when your only options are out of the washingtons’ sparse cabinets.

you had to make a slight change in your ‘how you got together’ story when meeting his parents, either way they loved you, and thought you were a great reason for matt to take his laser focus off of football.

speaking of football, you’re at every game wearing some old spare shirt he had laying around.

when he first met your parents, god it was something you should’ve prevented. matt sides with your mum’s every word, dishes, staying out too late, waking up too early. honestly everything and anything.

he’s easily the most caring, you’re always on his mind, your wants, your needs, what you’re doing, how you’re doing.

in return you help him study, you’re not much smarter, but with matt, you find fun in the coursework.

[ducktracy]

What do you think are the most cynical Looney Tunes shorts?

anything directed by Friz Freleng and/or Chuck Jones LOL

SUCH AN INTERESTING QUESTION!! i KNOW for certain i'm missing a bunch, because there's so much casual cynicism EVERYWHERE that it can be hard to sort them. BUT there are definitely some that come to mind...

Fresh Airedale may be one of the most cynical cartoons i've ever seen in my life LOL. it's a brilliant short! but very bleak--i posted some clips of it a few years ago and talked about it briefly, but the short, which has a guy abusing his poor helpless cat and fawning over his dog who is also abusing the cat and taking credit for the good deeds that the cat is trying to do for his owner to win him over, ends a very unsubtle metaphor with the scale of justice toppling over and landing on the cat's head to basically say that justice never serves those who need it most

every one of the Three Bears shorts LOL. if i recall correctly, the Bears shorts weren't received well by audiences at the time because they missed the appeal of what should be a cloyingly cute family being completely dysfunctional and miserable. Bear Feat may be the most cynical considering it has Papa Bear gleefully attempting to commit suicide by jumping off a cliff... and also has this LMAO

ON THE TOPIC OF SUICIDE! Porky has attempted suicide in two cartoons and is heavily implied to have succeeded in one, the ending to Notes to You, which i posted here in discussing some of the darkest endings to a LT short.

but as a whole, Porky's Romance is definitely the more top to bottom cynical short in that Petunia rejects his marriage proposal by laughing in his face (thanks to her shitty dog that trips him), Porky tries to hang himself, can't even get that because the tree snaps beneath his weight and so he instead has a concussion-induced nightmare where he marries Petunia who is abusive and slovenly and awful. AND his license plate calls him a boob. and i know this is hard to believe, but Frank Tashlin, who directed this film, has talked about how he hated working with "the damn pig". shocking! and yet this short is what made me fall in love with Porky by being my introduction to him as an adult. guilty pleasure short because it's definitely Misogyny the Cartoon but i love it. i'm reclaiming it

plus it gave us one of my favorite endings to any cartoon (Porky punting her shitty dog)

Porky's Bear Facts is maybe the most cynical adaptation of The Grasshopper and the Ant, which basically has the moral "if people haven’t earned their keep, then they’re not worth helping at all seeing as they’ll only take advantage of your hospitality and will be complicit in any potential sloth that arises thereafter, running the risk of repeating the entire ordeal all over again, so why bother?". but, also, it is ridiculously entertaining and another short i love ferociously. maybe the ending linked below (6:18 if timestamp doesn't work) makes more sense within the context of the short (which you should watch) but the bookend to the beginning with the song is just. chef's kiss

the end of Catch as Cats Can is so dark that they ended up cutting it, probably because it's like... cruel LOL BUT I WISH THEY KEPT IT IN SOOOOO MUCH. but the short is about a Bing Crosby parrot trying to trick Sylvester into eating a Frank Sinatra parrot. the tables are turned and Sylvester ends up eating the Crosby parrot--there's a gag that was cut that was gonna have a shot of the Crosby parrot's tombstone that read "CAME IN BEFORE HIS HORSE"--there are a ton of jokes in various WB shorts about Bing Crosby's horse coming in last and being very slow (such as in The Old Gray Hare where Elmer and Bugs travel to the futuristic year of 2000 and it's revealed that Crosby's horse still hasn't come in yet). Bing already tried to sue them for two cartoons in the '30s so i guess they felt the ending was pushing it, but DAMN do i wish they kept it because it's SO FUNNY

i was very surprised to find people saying that Canned Feud was mean and cynical on Letterboxd when i recently rewatched it!! that's one of my all time favorite Sylvester shorts and one of his best, i think it's absolutely hilarious but i guess i can see why people are put off by it... a mouse keeps purposefully depriving Sylvester of the can opener when he's stuck in the house with only canned food for two weeks. it doesn't have the dark bite as other shorts mentioned here, at least to me, but i'll bring it up anyway since some people were evidently very chafed by it

Each Dawn I Crow is worth mentioning, and i'm SO HAPPY IT GOT RESTORED BECAUSE IT IS A MASTERPIECE. it's a very unique LT short that plays out like a radio play--a neurotic rooster thinks that Elmer is planning to kill him, and the tone of the short mimics that neuroticism all throughout. very suspenseful and dark and SO FUNNY, because it devolves into the rooster trying to get Elmer killed. there's this amazing bit where the rooster fashions a hat for Elmer that has a duck decoy on top, intending for a bunch of duck hunters to shoot Elmer full of holes, and Elmer just completely accepts it with no thought in his head and i can't articulate it it's just so funny and i lose it every time i see it.

i sadly don't have the full clip on me, but this is just masterful

THERE ARE MANY MORE I CAN LIST, mostly Freleng cartoons LOL but i've spent too long typing this up! Chuck Jones' Chow Hound and Freleng's Stooge for a Mouse (another one of my favorite Sylvesters) also come to mind. they're definitely the two directors who excelled at cynicism the most, and there is no shortage of it to be found

[deaniesangel]

Blue Hills

Part 1 - Welcome to Cielo Drive

neighbour!cliff booth x reader

genre: foreplay

summary: you move into your new house and are quickly greeted by your welcoming neighbours. unfortunately, you get off to a rocky start when one of them gets to know you more intimately than you expected.

warnings: slow burn, language, embarrassment, mentions of shitty ex-boyfriends, mentions of underwear and toys, cliff being hot as always, rick being an awkward sweetheart

words: 2,35k

a/n: please bear with me, guys. i swear this story is going somewhere. it is a slow slow slooow burn type of story but it will be worth the wait. i promise :)

─────────────────────

The moment you stepped out of the car, a whiff of freshly cut grass entered your nostrils. The scent mixed with morning dew reminded you of your hometown. Not far off a sprinkler could be heard. You looked around to find it on the neighbours lawn which was mowed to perfection. If one were to measure each blade of grass they would all amount to the same height. Amazed and intimidated by the thought, you push your sunglasses further up your nose bridge and walk to the trunk of your car.

Countless boxes greeted you as you open the door. The wall of cartons had blocked your view while driving. In anticipation of the manual labour ahead, you tuck your hair behind your ears and study the contents of the truck. Your hands on your hips as if to mentally prepare a battle plan on how the hell you were supposed to carry all that into the house by yourself.

You take one deep breath before grabbing the first box and heading into the house. Your house. It still felt unreal. Two months ago you were basically homeless after your idiot boyfriend and you had broken up. But that was a story for another time.

Sleeping on your friend, Melanie’s old couch, the springs drilling into your back every night. And now? Now you have a house. With a garden. A bed of your own. In a damn great neighbourhood. The realtor told you about all the celebrities that lived on your street. Apparently, Cielo Drive was home to Roman Polanski, Rick Dalton and some other famous people you could not remember the names of. If you were honest, you had no clue who these supposedly important people were but you didn’t have the heart to tell the enthusiastic realtor.

Your house wasn’t as grand as the neighbouring ones. You heard it was built as the house for some villa’s staff years back. Hence the small scale, simple design and most importantly: how you could afford it. Nevertheless, it was a good house and something you could call your own.

You set the box you were carrying down on the wooden floor of your new bedroom. The walls definitely needed a new coat of paint and some work needed to be done here and there. Mostly little things like fixing the window frames. But the bones of the building were in great condition and there was no sign of mold or rats. Actually, it was quite a catch if you ignored some of the beauty blind spots.

You opened the carton box and were greeted by some books and a reading lamp, which you put into a pile in the corner of the room, the lamp beside it. Your first interior decor. Despite the house being barren of furniture as of now it didn’t feel empty. The walls were filled with hope and optimism.

A car’s exhaust engine could be heard outside. Oh, that must be the moving truck with all your furniture! Well, at least the pieces you fought your ex for. The asshole wanted to keep your stuff - the stuff you already owned before moving in together. Can you believe it? Good riddance.

Excitedly, you ran outside. Only it wasn’t the anticipated blue truck but a yellow chevvie, which vame to a stop in the parking spot of the neighbouring house. A wall with a painting of some man’s face was behind it. You remember now. The realtor said that Rick Dalton was your neighbour. The actor from Bounty Law. Your friend loved watching the show before going to bed. And here the man from TV was now. Your neighbour.

This was the moment worry set into your mind. Not only was Cielo drive filled with rich people with perfect lawns but rich people who thought plastering their home with a painting of themselves was a good idea. You didn’t belong here. Not really.

Just then, two men exited the yellow car. You could hear their conversation faintly. They were talking about Mexican food? Tacos and margaritas?

You were standing on your tippy toes, looking over to the arguing pair. Curiosity got the best of you. It didn’t take long for one of the men to notice you staring at them. The wave of a denim clad hand brings you out of your thoughts. You raise your hand to greet them as well and to your surprise they make their way over to you.

Shit, this wasn’t what you had in mind. But then again, you want to be a friendly neighbour, make a good impression and most importantly: blend in. And yes, maybe they will turn out to be assholes with OCD gardening compulsions or a narcissistic ego but you had to meet the people living next door sooner or later. And it just happened to be sooner rather than later.

You walk towards the two, intending to meet them halfway as you hear one of the men wearing a brown leather jacket say: “How you doing, Miss?"

Yeah, you were pretty sure that was Rick Dalton. But he seemed…nicer and maybe a little more awkward than expected? He was projecting a friendly smile that you couldn’t help but return.

“Hey, how you doing? I’m Y/N. I just moved in next door”, you say before extending your hand to shake his. A sign of good intentions. This interaction was going pretty well so far.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss. I’m Rick. Rick Dalton.” So you were right. If Melanie was here, she would freak the heck out.

The man that just introduced himself as the infamous Western actor pointed at the man nex to him, who was wearing a full on denim outfit and said: “And this is Cliff Booth.”

“Hi”, you said as you shake his hand, flashing the two of them a smile. His hand was rough and strong, a noticable contrast to the soft hand you had shaken before him.

Now you finally had a chance to examine their faces and my God. The man Rick had introduced as Cliff was handsome. Really handsome. The one in a million type of handsome that one would expect of someone working in hollywood. You wondered if he was a fellow actor or maybe a singer. Before you could continue to solve the mystery, Rick spoke up again:

“It’s good to see new faces around here. Most of the residents have lived here for decades so it’s awful nice to see young people take the opportunity to move up here.” The actor spoke with a passion and a slight stutter. You felt bad for thinking this but you were surprised by his polite speech and good manners.

He continued eloquently: “It’s a real good neighbourhood. Good, hardworking people. And safe. We haven’t had a break-in around her in over 20 years. Can you believe it?”

You make an impressed face as you listen to the Bounty Law actor list all the benefits of the area. While you are interested in what he has to say, you can’t help but get distracted by the man in denim. He hasn’t said much so far, but you had to fight with yourself by keeping your eyes on Rick instead of him.

“Here I go, rambling on again. Long story short: Welcome to the neighbourhood, Miss”, he ends his welcoming monologue. The rambling and the stutter…maybe he was nervous as well. It was quite endearing.

You want to express your gratitude and say: “Thank you, Mr. Dalton”

“Oh no, please. Call me Rick.”

You exhale a laugh and without noticing rest against the wall of cardboard boxes in your trunk. “Thank you. Rick. I’m relieved to know such nice people live next door.”

Their gaze moves to the wall of brown behind you and Rick asks: “Miss, do you live here alone?”

A little caught off guard by the question you reply: “Uhm, yes, it’s just me. I was living together with my friend before moving here.” It wasn’t a lie. Technically, you did live with Melanie until now. That your boyfriend threw you out of your shared apartment? That was a detail they didn’t need to know.

“I see. Then you must be moving and carrying this stuff all alone.” Rick proclaims and points at the heavy boxes behind you.

“Oh, it’s okay. The moving truck should arrive soon. And until then I can manage carrying a few boxes.” Again, not a lie. If the break-up had taught you anything it was that you are a strong, independent woman after all. But secretly, you did really really hope that they would fight your statement and help you carry at least some stuff inside.

“But that might be a while. Considering LA traffic and all. At least let us carry in some of these boxes.” Oh, thank you, thank you, Rick. You suddenly loved Bounty Law.

“That is really kind of you, Rick. But I don’t want to impose on you. You must have more important things to do.” Before the words left your mouth, Rick and Cliff were already helping themself grab some of the boxes.

“What nonsense. A lady like you shouldn’t carry all that by herself. We would be happy to help. Right, Cliff?”

“Sure would”, Cliff finally said something. And the way he did, God. It made your heart flutter.

Muttering a big “thank you”, you get a box yourself and try to catch up with the two men, who had already disappeared into the house. How could they be so quick? Especially Rick. He didn’t seem particularly athletic.

“You can just leave them on the floor”, you shout after them, not sure if they would hear.

“Will do, Miss”, Rick replied and a few seconds later he passed you as both men were making their way to get the next load.

You too set down your box next to the others. The one you just carried was especially heavy. Damn, you wish you had put markers on the boxes so that you knew what exactly they contained. Thankfully, you hadn’t sealed them shut with tape so one could easily see outlines of what was inside…Wait a minute. One could easily see what was inside. All your clothing, your underwear, hell even your toys were inside those boxes. What if-?

“Mr. Dalton! Mr. Booth!”, you shouted, panic filling your voice. “I can do the rest from here.”

“It’s okay, we’re nearly done. And I told you, it’s Rick”, the actor retorts with a smile on his face, which you awkwardly try to reciprocate.

“Sorry, Rick. I really appreciate it but these boxes are heavy and I wouldn’t want you to hurt your back.” Again: Not a complete lie.

And then. Your heart drops to the floor. You see Cliff staring at the box he was carrying for a suspiciously long time. And if there was any doubt that he hasn’t just seen something he shouldn’t have, his eyes inspected you from head to toe. Then he smirked before setting the box down and leaving to get another.

You could faintly make out Rick saying something in the background but your mind was occupied by something more pressing right now. Pure panic.

He smirked. Why did he smirk? Oh my god. What did he see? Was it a panty? One of your bras? Or-

You hurry to open the box and…no…out of all the boxes. It was the box with your toys.

After your break-up you had confessed to Melanie that sex with your ex was…less than satisfying. Which prompted her to gift you some sex toys for self discovery. You hadn’t even had the chance to try all of them yet and now a man you had just met, who was friends with Bounty Law star Rick Dalton, had seen your toys. Great. You wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.

Why didn’t you close the lids? Or at least hide the toys under a t-shirt or something. Anything to prevent a situation like this. You just prayed inwardly that it was all a misunderstanding and he hadn’t actually seen the contents of the box.

In the hopes of salvaging the situation, you quickly run outside, only to find Rick waiting at the trunk while Cliff was carrying the last of the carton boxes in his strong arms. Did Cliff tell his friend what he had seen? Did they make fun of you or talk about what a whore you are? All kinds of fearful thoughts circulate in your mind. But then, the actor opend his mouth to say: “That should be all, Miss. Anything else we can help you with?”

“No, tha-…thank you”, you reply distractedly. Your gaze follows the man in denim as he comes out of the house, walking slowly. Confidently. He had the same swagger a cowboy would have. You caught yourself getting weak knees until you remembered that this stranger had just caught a glimpse into your sex life.

Rick’s voice brings you back into reality as he says: “It’s our pleasure. If you need help with anything - and I mean anything - just give me a call.” He hands you out a business card. Rick Dalton. Actor. Producer.

“Will do. Thank you again, for everything”, you reply and do your best to give each of the men a smile.

Rick bids his farewell and gives you a slight wave: “Have a good day, Miss.”

“You too, bye!” You retaliate and wave him goodbye. You were painfully aware that Cliff was still standing in front of you. He hadn’t moved an inch. Was he waiting for something? By God, you were just hoping that he wouldn’t bring up the contents of the box. Maybe you should just break the silence and-

“Miss.” Cliff’s voice rings in your ear. The tall man nods his head as if to take off his hat to salute you. Before you can form a coherent sentence he gives you a cocky wink and turns around to leave.

Fuck. There was no doubt he saw the toys.

Why did this have to happen? On your first day nonetheless. With your new neighbours? And such an attractive man at that? And why did he smirk? Did he find it amusing?

But then again, it’s the 70s, goddammit. Women are allowed to have sex. And enjoy sex. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed by it. Still, you wish anyone but Mr. Handsome had seen the contents of the box.

What a great way to start your new life.

─────────────────────

part 2 ♡ part 3 - coming soon...

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hihi!! Can I request (platonic) Jeff, Ben and Toby having an older brother-like relationship with a new teen/child!reader that’s been taken in by slender who has a habit of running off on adventures, climbing things they aren’t supposed to climb, never turning down a challenge no matter how dangerous or dumb, getting in trouble a lot, etc (except they survive every time somehow?? Who knows why.) please and thank u :) have a lovely day!!

Protective big brother figures, here we come.

BEN:

Honestly, at his extremely old man age (of 28), he doesn't have the energy for this. BEN does his absolute best to look after you and keep his eyes on you, but he finds that to be challenging when you're constantly on the move. He finds it's better off that he just goes into your phone so he can be with you while you're running around doing stuff, so he can yell at you through the speakers to not pet that animal because it's extremely dangerous, don't try and climb that plant because it's poisonous, and do NOT challenge those demons to a fight, they WILL beat your ass. He feels like he'd have a heart attack if he wasn't already dead, but he keeps his eyes on you and proves to be a good big brother figure, just as he did for several other residents of the mansion. If you ever do get in trouble, he's quick to leave your phone and help you out, and shockingly, lectures you just like Slender always lectures them. He cares for you a great deal, and he doesn't want you to get gravely injured, especially with how dangerous the Underworld is, so he accompanies you whenever you're out and about. It gets him out of the mansion for a change, which is nicer than he'll admit to, and it allows him to keep watch over you, to the best of his abilities. Keeping you safe and happy is his biggest priority, and he does a damn good job of doing both of those things. 

Jeff:

Jeff has always been protective over Liu and everyone dear to him, but that really gets kicked up a notch with you. The man watches you like a hawk, because he knows the second he takes his eyes off of you you're gonna run off and do something stupid again. Jeff is tall and pretty damn muscular from all of his training, so if he physically has to hold you back or carry you away from something he will, and you aren't gonna get out of his hold. He honestly starts threatening to wrap you up in layers of bubble wrap before you leave the house every day, and if you seem particularly mischievous one day, he trails after you, knowing if he doesn't you're gonna come home with some form of injury. Jeff is honestly a good big brother figure, because despite the bullshit he gets up to, he never encourages it, and he never does it around you, and he's pretty damn good at getting you to relax quite a bit. He still lets you have fun, of course, but he hates seeing the people he cares for in dangerous situations, or constantly getting hurt, so he shows you some tough love. Jeff is honestly shocked at how much like Slender he starts to seem around you, in a good way at least. He gets better at explaining why you shouldn't be doing something, and he gets better at pushing you to put all your energy into more reasonable things. He's not perfect, of course, but he's a pretty damn good big brother. 

Toby:

Toby, for the first time in his life, understands why Tim is always so fucking frustrated with him. You're exactly how Toby was when he first came to the mansion, and while he didn't see anything wrong with his behavior then, when it comes to the possibility of you getting hurt, or worse, he finally understands why Tim was always yelling at him for doing stupid stuff. While Toby still does stupid stuff, he tries to encourage you to do safer stupid stuff. If you wanna climb something, climb one of the trees safely on the mansion's grounds, instead of a tree directly next to a cliff. If you're gonna accept a challenge, at least make sure it's something you can do successfully, because he swears if he has to watch you get hurt from doing something you know is dumb one more time he's gonna blow a gasket. Toby teaches you the art of putting your chaotic energy into safer means, and while you still get in trouble every now and then, you come back to the mansion with far fewer injuries, and you seem much happier, now that you have your big brother Toby looking out for you and partaking with you. Tim teases the fuck out of Toby now though, because Toby will always come home with you and sigh in exhaustion, giving Tim a look that says he finally understands, and Tim says he deserves it to make up for everything he did to Tim and Brian.

[sinning-23]

Twice The Fun Pt.2 (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

WELCOME TO PT.2 you guys!!!! I know I left you on a cliff hanger uhhhh but I’m apologizing for it now lmao! The point from previously still stands! This an 18+ FANFIC SO MINORs gtfo. Uhhhh yep.

Warnings: Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, light choking, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, double penetration, squirting, multiple orgasms, threesome (good mf lord dude this is wild)

Anyway! Enjoy!

Ps. also….pls excuse any spelling errors. I swear I proofread my work lmao and the shit still gets away from me-

P.P.S if you're feeling the need for some mood music I suggest "All I need" by LLoyd. (you're welcome bby)

PART 1 HERE

You can’t help but thrash your legs a bit as you're drapped over Zoro’s shoulder, at this point, you have a perfect view of Sanji who is keeping a nice pace behind him.

"What is the meaning of this! Release me at once you heathen!" You taunt, gasping when Zoro lands a nice firm smack to you ass again.

"S-Sanji! You just gonna let him do that to me!" You yep, trying to guilt trip the blonde, but the only half smiled/smirked, and bent down just a smidge to met your eyes.

There is a blaze of desire you know all too well behind that blue. His tongue darts out for just a moment, his piercing peeking out so sligtly. It makes your stomach flutter.

"I do recall him saying you like that. I'll leave it to him. Besides, I think you need it when you thought you could just sneak around and fuck us both without us finding out." He explains, the color in your face dropping.

Ok so you like already KNEW but like the confirmation of it all was insane to you.

"I-I wait! I can explain!" You whimper, heart beating faster and faster the more you realized where you ere headed.

Your room.

You’d only ever really hooked up with them in their own rooms...but now they were about to absolutely MIX your shit in your own.

"Too late for that." Zoro chimes, pushing your door open and setting you a bit harshly onto your bed.

You bounce upwards and see Sanji close and locked the door. The tesnison is killing you now, the way the twoof them hover over your seated form. It as only a matter time until one of them told you to-

"Take it off." Sanji stated, less of a suggestion and more of an order.

Why were you so damn nervous?? They’d both seen you in far far less classy conditions and bare as the day you were born. You swallow, obeying and pulling offth little layers you did have. They watch you, one set of blue and one set of the darest brown, trace every fiber of your being as you pull your top off...and then your shorts.

"All of it." Zoro adds, the impatience in his voice growing.

"I-" You try to find the words but another sharp gaze shuts you up.

FUCk! There was no hiding the obvious wetness that had grown over the span of this little conversation. Might as well give themma show since they wanna act all high and mighty now.

You spread your legs, resting your body weight against your forearms as you push your chest forwards. You manage to shimmy out of your panties, letting them hang from just around your ankle for a moment before moving to let the straps of your bra slie off your shoulders.

"Y'know, you guys to act like you don't like each other, but you have soo much in common." You taunt, the bra now discarded as you lay before the two.

The obvious tightness of their pants was beginning to make you feel more and more in control. You slide off the bed, and make your way in front of them, your brain at war over who you should approach first.

"Like right now, I'd bet that both of you are begging that I choose you over the other."

You inch closer, now stationed between them, Zoro to your left, Sanji to your right, You hands travel up each leg, manicured fingers skillfully working away at two separate buttons and zippers.

Your mouth waters when your fingetips come in contact with it...

"I know you both too well. So easy to read. Even if you don't think you are."

Sanji if the first to buckle, a whine of satisfaction leaving his lips when you press down on his tip over the boxer a bit more firm than before. Though your hand works at Sanji, eventually pulling his length free, your eyes are focused on Zoro, the contact making his face heat up.

How could you looks so calm, as if you're not fisting the cook beside him. The answer is simple. You know him...too well. If there was anything Zoro loved, it was attention from you.

Even though Sanji was being touched, you were looking at him. focused on him. Gauging him. And that alone was enough to make him sigh openly, his arms crossed over his chest as if to fight the feeling you'd made wash over him. The room was definitely hotter now.

You pause for a moment, sliding your hand away from Sanji so that you could now touch Zoro with both. Easy to read. Though Sanji loved your hands, your throat was more to Zoro's liking. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, the saliva there already making its way down to the tip of you tongue as you lick from base to head.

He shudders, bitting his fist as if to fight giving into you as easily as Sanji did. He knows what you're about to do and damn if it isn’t his favorite thing. Once you made it to his tip, you let your tongue fall just a little bit past your lower lip and bobbed your head. He's at the back of your throat now and your eyes are looking right at him, watery and eager to please.

"Fuck-"

They speak it at the same time and it almost blends together.

"I didn't know she could do that," Sanji admits, pumping slowly as you continue to suck Zoro for all he's worth.

He can’t help but let his hand travel to your scalp, his grip becoming tighter when you gag a bit, saliva falling down your chin, to the valley of your chest. You always were so sloppy when you did this. Sanji groans at the sight.

"Wanna try what we practiced?" Zoro asks, feeling a bit cocky at the fact that he got something Sanji didn't.

You nod, trying your best to relax your throat as Zoro trust forward , essentially fucking your face. Your hands first clench at your sided but soon find themselves resting against his thighs. Up unto this point, Zoro had been training your throat to take every last inch of him and as of right now, practice was showing to make perfect.

"Thatssss fuckin it. Taking me down your throat like that." Zoro praises, loving how the tears rolled down you melenated cheeks.

You tapped his thigh, and he was quick to let you go, being sure to let you breathe. You gasp, saliva connecting your as your eyes scream nothing but desire.

"S-Sanji." You huff, rolling your head to the side as if to beckon him closer.

He swallows, face red after seeing you take a little more then 7 inches. You shift, now bent at the waist, still facing Zoro, but on display for Sanji to see. And fuck was it a vision. Your dripping down you thighs now, your lips wet as you try your best to spread for him.

The blonde now had his hands at your waist, caressing the plush of your sides and hips. He noted how pretty your arch looked and the way you were eager to press against him.

"Si mouillé déjà chérie?" Sanji chuckles, sliding his ring up your folds, making you whine.

"S-Stop Sanji please just fuck me." You beg, steadying yourself against Zoro, who was currently caressing your jaw as if to prep it for the stretch again.

"You heard her waiter. I’m sure she doesn’t like waiting." Zoro quips, making Sanji narrow his eyes.

"Oh I know, but tha just makes this pretty pussy's reaction that much better. You’re not the only one that's gonna be surprised by what she can do." He snaps back, pushing two fingers into you, the cold metal making you moan this time. The wet squelch of his fingers is becoming louder and louder.

Now it was Sanji's turn to be cocky. Yeah sure Zoro had fucked this pussy just as much as he had...but had he gotten it to squirt as much as Sanji could? Not likely.

His r speed up, your legs buckling as you feel yourself about to snap. And after the first few drips, Sanji curled his fingers up and pulled out, sliding over your clit with a quickness.

“F-Fuck! Sanji!” You moan, your juices sliding down your thighs, onto the floor below you, and no doubt onto tbe blonde behind you.

All the while, you gripped Zoro’s thighs, fighting the urge to scream. All he could do was watch as you came undone, the sound of you squirting alone making him harder if that was even possible.

Sanji chuckles darkly, not letting up as he decided to slide into your walls, the feeling pulling gasps from the both of you. And as your mouth opened, it was full, Zoro taking the chance to claim your throat again. It’s almost too much, being filled from both ends was so much more stimulating than you thought.

One part of you was so focused on his Sanji curved into you, hitting every spongy spot he could. The other was wanting nothing but for Zoro to finally cum down your throat.

And oh god the sounds. It’s absolutely filthy, you squelching and choking mixed with the grunts of two competing and two men just as sexually inclined as you were. It’s making your head fuzzy and your pussy flutter. And damn can Sanji tell.

“Shit, squeezing, you feel so damn good.” Sanji vocalized, gripping your hips harder now.

Zoro smirks, caressing your scalp and jawline as he thrust to the back of your throat.

“Atta girl. Keep looking up just like that.” Zoro coaxes, your eyes watery.

He lets you breathe for a moment and you find it a bit difficult to when your breaths come in and out as moans when Sanji is absolutely wrecking your shit. You snap again, Sanji pulling out, smacking his tip over your folds when you squirt again.

“Like a fuckin faucet. Can’t even stay in you, you’re so wet.” Sanji hisses, the squelching of his sliding in and out of you echoing.

Zoro releases you and all tbat comes out is a strangled moan as Sanji grips your hips.

“F-Fuck, fuck, fuck! Sanji!” You whimper, gasping when Zoro forced your gaze upwards to look at him.

“You forgetting about me? Don’t tell me that cook is fucking you better than me?”

Sanji laughs at the statement, pulling out of you again, only to have Zoro change your positions completely.

It’s only a little awkward considering your senses feel so fuzzy. Sanji is beneath tou, your back against his chest and Zoro’s managed to hold your legs up, one hand under each knee.

“Wait are you- fffuck!” You moan, Sanjis hand coming to hold your throat as he slides in, And right after Zoro doing the same.

The feeling was new. So full at once and it only got better when they moved. You couldn’t help the way your body jerked with each thrust and now with your mouth free all you could do was moan, whine, and beg for more.

Zoro’s thumb finds your clit just to make, slow, calculated circles. You’re wrecked, ducked dumb almost and all you can do if warm them before you cum.

“C’mon baby cum for us.” Sanji encouraged, his lips pressing to your shoulder as you squeeze whatever you could find to hold as your orgasm wrecks you.

It doesn’t take long for Zoro’s hips to stutter, his forehead resting against yours.

“Where?” He asks, the question coming out strained as he struggles to keep from release.

“Won’t last much longer, let us know where honey.” Sanji warns.

You can’t help but be greedy, the impulsive answer slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

It’s not long before you’re filled, and you’d never head a prettier sound when Sanji hums into your shoulder, just shy of a whimper. And you’d never felt more loved and secure when Zoro cups your cheek, his lips finally finding yours when he cums, you’re lips swallowing up any souls he lets slip.

It’s calm now. The sound of waves hitting the ship lull you into a daze almost, and as full as you’re were, you’re empty when Zoro pulls out with a grunt, a swear falling past his kiss swollen lips.

Sanji swears the same when he does the same and before you could question it, you realize just how much of their cum is leaking out of you at the moment.

“Well don’t just stand there, get a towel!” Sanji scoffs, massaging your shoulders and hips, knowing the positions you’d been in could be a bit wearing on your body.

“I’m going to, calm down.” Zoro shoots back, eventually retrieving a warm rag to clean you up.

5 star aftercare. The two had managed to work together seemingly well to make sure you were taken care of and there was no shortage of kisses and featherlight caresses. Your body was definitely spent, knees weak, muscles still tight from the exertion.

Sanji slipped one of your more comfortable t-shirts over your body and Zoro slipped a pair of socks on for you. There was little to no conversation, the three of you still trying to process what just occurred. Only did you speak when both of them had turned toward your door.

“You’re leaving...” You state, the sinking in your chest feeling heavier by the second.

“This was a one time thing right?” Zoro asks, looking to Sanji for confirmation.

The blonde only shrugs.

“What no? I want you both…” You shoot back as if it were obvious.

Sanji doves his hands in his pockets, searching for a cigarette for a moment before finally finding it. You can’t help but look between the two of them for some kind of answer. Part of you feels a bit silly for assuming they just share you but if you knew anything, and you had said it before, they were more alike than they would ever admit.

Sharing wasn’t something in their vocabulary when it came to you.

___________________________________________

Authors Note: OKAYYYY How’re we feeling YALL! Bet you weren’t expecting that ensuing huh?! Lmao got just a PINCH angsty lol, y/n can’t get everything she wants womp womp.

Uhhhh anyway my ask box is always open! If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, ideas, or requests, feel free to ask!

Make sure you drink ya water today and eat a good meal! L8TER SINNERS <33

Taglist: @atinymonbebestay @darling-din

@jaree101-blog @kaptain-rebekah

@gingernut1314 @itisjustwhatitis

[phoebeegreen3]

Capri Persson (F1) ⸺ 01. BACK ON TRACK

🏎 SUMMARY: What if the best driver of recent years isn't actually him? What if the best driver is actually hiding something else? Would he still be the best? Or just a simple fraud? 📓 GENRE: secret identity / rivals to lovers / he felt first, she felt harder / soulmates / slow burn 📧 WORD COUNT: 3096 📬 PARTS: book one (two parts) / CP9, book two (one part) 🏆 CAPRIPERSSON.MASTERLIST

Bahrain GP, Middle East. March, 2023

The first years are always a mess, no matter how well your career has gone. People will try to prove that you don't have what it takes to be among the top 20. They'll do whatever it takes to weaken you, even if it means bombarding you with hundreds of cameras as if you were Britney Spears herself. The difference is, I was more like Hannah Montana.

People did everything they could to test how much you could endure, what you were capable of, how far they could push. When I came out of my first F1 race to check in with the other drivers, I had agreed with the FIA and my team on everything necessary to never have to take off my helmet, for any reason. And yet, the officials weighing us started an argument with Jean, insisting that I had to remove my helmet even if the FIA allowed me to keep it on, since they could subtract the weight of the helmet, considering that the rest of the drivers were still holding theirs while stepping on the scale.

A lot was said. They pressured the other drivers to speak badly about me, conspiring with the press. They left them on the edge of a cliff in a dirty and unpleasant game that only media people could scheme up. I ended up being Rookie of the Year and winning Action of the Year for the overtake I made on Albon in the last lap of the Abu Dhabi GP at the FIA awards during my first year. Clearly, I didn't go to collect the trophies. Partly for obvious identity reasons, and secondly, as a protest against how badly the FIA handled my first year, despite our agreement. In my second year, I won Action of the Year again for a move on Leclerc in Monza. And by the third year, I was already a runner-up—but that's another story, probably the worst of my career.

Being a runner-up is even worse than not scoring a single point all season. In fact, there was an episode in the Netflix series that went to great lengths to explain that event. They titled it "No Victory", and I replayed it eighteen times during the winter break so that when I returned to Abu Dhabi this year, I would understand what would happen if I lost again.

Runner-up felt like a joke when I crashed my car on the last lap, just moments away from winning. I just wanted to collect the trophy so I could go home and smash it against the floor. It would have been different if I hadn't scored any points, if my car had caught fire, if something else had happened. But instead, I sat on the couch in my apartment, watching the FIA hand Max that trophy for the second year in a row.

And since then, I haven't stopped replaying it in my head—until now. First race of the 2023 season. Capri Persson is ready to win. Capri Persson will win. That's what sets him apart from the rest.

I could no longer allow myself to trail behind Verstappen and Red Bull. Not anymore.

"Capri?" Jean called from the other side of the door, knocking twice as a warning before stepping in. That pulled me completely out of my thoughts. "Alright," she sighed. I stood up in my suit, my helmet resting on a table in the corner of the workshop room. "Ready?"

"What if I don't make it?" I whispered, consumed by my worry.

"No, no, no," Jean immediately shook her head, stepping closer to me. "Don't say that. Don't even think about it."

"Jean..."

"Look at me." She held my jaw in her hand, tilting my face so I was looking straight at her. "You're going to go out there, you're going to race, and you're going to thrive because you're the damn Capri Fucking Persson. Do you hear me?"

"Yes..." I mumbled.

"I can't hear you. What was that? A little bird chirping?" she exaggerated her motivational speech. "Did you hear me?!" she raised her voice, trying to hype me up aggressively, but I hid my laughter and raised my voice.

"Yes, Jean!" I shouted firmly, and she smiled, satisfied.

"You're already on the ground, Capri. There's nowhere lower to fall. The only thing left is to get up." She winked, placing a hand on my arm. "I know you only see bad things ahead because you feel surrounded by them... but why don't we look at the good opportunities that could come out of this instead?" I sighed at her words. "Instead of asking yourself, 'What if it doesn't happen?' ask yourself, 'What will I do if it does?'"

Go home and train for the next one. That's how things were, how it had always been, and how it always will be.

Winning is great, but nobody ever tells you what happens when you don't. Everything that comes with mourning what you thought you had in the palm of your hand.

Shit.

I could have been champion if it weren't for that mistake on the last corner—THE LAST! I should have lifted Verstappen's trophy, I should have taken that recognition. But I crashed. I got out and saw my car wrecked against the wall while the rest of the competitors drove past me.

While the world spent the winter break talking about Capri Persson's defeat, I was mourning the fact that what I had longed for hadn't happened. I had to carry the grief of that emptiness I felt when I turned on the TV to watch the FIA awards, where I had already imagined myself receiving the trophy and showing the world who Capri Persson really was.

When things don't happen, the focus is on getting back up and trying again. But no one ever tells you how to handle the pain of watching life go on, just not how you wanted it to.

Jean helped me with my helmet, and we left the room, entering the garage to see the new AlphaTauri car I had tested during the break. Nyck was talking to the mechanics, getting ready to step into his car when he saw me arrive. With a small nod in his direction, I greeted him briefly, and he smiled tightly, a little uneasy. It was no surprise how difficult it was for the rest of the drivers to share a space with Capri Persson.

Pierre Gasly had been my first teammate, and even though I knew he wouldn't always be, I think I had grown fond of the idea of seeing him in the garage often, testing cars together in the off-season. We never really talked, but I always had the idea that, after all, he could be the first to know the truth about Capri Persson—mainly because he had been my teammate since I started. But Pierre announced he was leaving AlphaTauri for the 2023 season, meaning I had to change teammates.

Nyck hadn't been too bad—decent, overall. He neither got in the way nor stood out too much, which worked. But it was clear he had an exaggerated respect, almost bordering on fear, for his teammate. That meant I had to get used to having him on track in a very different way than I was used to with Pierre.

2023 meant a big fresh start. A complete reset.

New teammate, new car, new reputation. New season.

We all got into our cars for the free practice lap, and at that moment, I knew that keeping my foot on the accelerator was like planting a great garden. Keeping my foot down meant believing in tomorrow; it meant still having faith that one day, what Turn 16 on the last lap in Abu Dhabi had taken from me would finally be mine.

It was just me, this single-seater, and John, my engineer, whom I could silence if I wanted to. So I gripped the steering wheel tightly, took a deep breath, and watched the lights change.

The circuit starts with a straight, followed by a tight right-hand turn that connects to a wider left-hand turn. Exiting that corner, you accelerate fully, avoiding the outer curb and keeping the car centered on the track to slightly attack the next apex. I had to keep the wheel straight for a fraction of a second and then change direction to the left while still accelerating and shifting gears. The next small right-hand bend is practically straight, but it's crucial to position yourself on the outside at the exit to attack the next corner. Verstappen was leading, for obvious reasons, followed by Charles, Lewis, George, Lando, and me. Sixth place.

There was a theory about qualifying in P6. Jean called it "the devil's position theory," and although I wasn't convinced, I couldn't deny that it never failed. Starting the first race of the season in "the devil's position" meant a guaranteed podium—unless the tradition changed this season or betrayed me.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Jean had said, sitting in my team's hospitality café during the French GP last season. "You started sixth this year in Australia, Miami, Spain, Canada, and Silverstone. And guess what..."

"I don't need to guess."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, lowering her voice when she realized she had spoken too loudly. "You won every single one of those GPs in a way that was torturous for the other drivers. France won't be an exception. Six is the devil's number."

"Actually, it's 666."

"Oh, come on," she looked at me in frustration. "The devil's position is already a fact. You can't deny it."

And she was right. France confirmed it, and then Monza did too. I couldn't deny it, so now I was expecting the same.

"Turn 10 in less than two seconds, Capri. I'll let you know when you can activate DRS," John notified me over the radio. Just as I was ready to take the corner, Carlos made one of the worst overtaking maneuvers I had ever seen.

"What the hell did he just do?" I asked. "Someone give that idiot an extra prize from me for ignoring every other driver so spectacularly while passing. I want to hear you all applaud when I smash his nose against the steering wheel," I spat, completely lost in my anger. John burst out laughing—I knew deep down he was grateful that my radio messages couldn't be shared with anyone else. It was just me and John, though sometimes Franz chimed in too.

"Copy that. But I'm going to ask you to calm down; you can pass him with DRS."

"I know, I know," I muttered. "I can pass him with my eyes closed. Want me to try?" I teased.

"Focus, Capri," John scolded.

I passed Carlos before the next corner, and I think I even heard him curse. The long curve leading into a fast, sweeping left-hander gave me the chance to overtake Lewis for fourth place and steal third from Russell on lap 43/57. I was doing well—I was making it happen.

"Capri, push. If you keep it up, you have a guaranteed podium," John said over the radio.

I didn't want a guaranteed third place. Who the hell did he think I was?

I wasn't going to maintain the pace—it wasn't about that.

"A guaranteed podium?" I laughed. "John, I started in 'the devil's position.' Of course, I have the podium secured."

"Capri, don't push the engine too hard. This is just the first GP; you should—"

"Goodbye, John. Should I call you when I win?" I grinned, though I knew he didn't fully appreciate it.

If there was something I loved on the track, it was knowing what each driver was willing to give in the competition. I believe years of experience mean nothing in relation to the car, which changes every season. Instead, experience matters when it comes to learning how to read the races of others. When you know each driver's blind spots, how they think, what they do—that's when you win. And this season, I was willing to do everything to build that knowledge.

You have to know whether they feel the car or just think about strategy. Or, on the contrary, if they have a perfect and absolutely necessary balance. If they did, they were great drivers. If not, they failed. The balance between feeling the car and thinking about your next move while knowing everything could change drastically in an instant—that was probably the key to driving an F1 car.

That was my formula. Know your competitors and find the balance between reason and instinct.

"Capri, box. We need to box," John notified me, his voice urgent over the radio.

"No, we don't, John. Not on the penultimate lap, and not when I just passed Leclerc for second place."

"Persson, I'm sorry."

"No, John. I'm even more sorry. I'm not pitting—I won't start the season on the wrong foot," I shouted, caught between anger and exhaustion.

"Capri Per—" I heard Franz jump in immediately, and my first instinct was to turn off the radio. I knew this would cost me, but it wouldn't be so bad if I got first place at the end of the day.

Max was ahead. And I felt like we had some unfinished business. Starting the season by taking him out of the lead would be the best way to boost my confidence. But Charles was on my heels, and that was driving me crazy.

"Verstappen is losing power. You need to overtake." said John five seconds after I turned the radio again.

"Is this a joke?" I felt deeply disappointed.

"This is your chance, Capri. Max won't be able to fight back. Pass him!"

I frowned. How was this possible?

"Come on, accelerate," I thought bitterly as I looked at the Red Bull car. My front wheels were approaching his rear ones, and all I wanted was for him to speed up. I wasn't going to win just because he couldn't accelerate. I wasn't going to win because he lost. I was going to win because I beat him fair and square. "Come on, come on, come on," I muttered, and suddenly, I was leading the race. Even Charles had passed him.

"That's it, Capri! You're leading! Keep pushing!" John shouted excitedly. Reaching the finish line, I could see the entire AlphaTauri team climbing the fence, cheering for me.

The checkered flag waved over me, but I said nothing. Reluctantly, I raised my hand to the crowd as if everything was fine—but it wasn't.

The good thing about always having a helmet covering my face was that I didn't have to fake a smile, a grimace, or anything. I just had to raise my hands, wave, and pretend everything was fine—just with my hands.

I parked the car and got out, moving confidently and greeting the roaring crowd. I saw signs with my name, team colors, and the iconic white AlphaTauri helmet. I watched Leclerc arrive in red and Verstappen pull up behind him, getting out in frustration.

"Great race, brother. Congrats," Charles said, fist-bumping me, which I returned. Max turned away and headed straight for the garage.

I watched him, thinking how ridiculous it felt to win almost by default because your rival had a failure. That's not winning—that's surviving. And I wasn't fully satisfied with that.

The team was waiting for me to celebrate, so I did everything I was supposed to do—act like the man of the grid.

If there's one thing I have to highlight, it's the feeling that filled me when I had to act like the man as soon as I won my first F1 race. It's strange, but in the small details, you deeply know that a woman would never be allowed to celebrate like that—because of the comments, the opinions, everything. It feels terrible, but... I couldn't deny that, in a way, it was amazing to enjoy the good parts of all this. Though I don't know how long it will last.

"You have to go to the cooldown room," Jean said, licking her lips uncomfortably.

"What?" I replied in sign language, frowning even though she couldn't see me.

"They demanded that you have to go to the cooldown room this time. Let's not make things more difficult."

"Difficult? Who the hell said that, Jean? What exactly am I supposed to do there with my helmet on?" I keep moving my hands angry and aggressively offended.

"Just go and show them it's pointless, that there's a reason we never did it. Go" she ordered, and with nothing more to say, I followed her instructions.

The team accompanied me to the cooldown room, and as soon as I entered, still with my helmet on, everyone went silent. The camera pointed straight at me as if it could pierce through my visor, and I stepped onto the device that would measure my weight. Max and Charles kept murmuring while watching my back.

I sat in one of the chairs and felt the drops of sweat tickling my face. The areas where the helmet pressed against me felt hotter than usual, and I could feel every bit of its texture. I was supposed to take it off like the rest of my teammates, drink water, put on the Pirelli cap, talk about the race, and watch the screen.

I simply sat there, staring at a fixed point through my visor, thinking about how disappointing the start of the season had been. Yes, the mark said that I won that race, but no for me. I didn't win, he gave up. It's different, and painful to start like this.

"Piastri is pretty good, don't you think, Persson?" Max asked, turning to me. Charles took a sip from his bottle, visibly uncomfortable.

"Yes, he's very good," I answered curtly with my hands, and both of them went silent, discreetly glancing around to see if anyone had understood what I had said in sign language.

It was my first time in a cooldown room. It had been discontinued in 2020, and in 2021 and 2022, the FIA agreed that, for obvious reasons, it was better to handle things like the rest of the drivers outside the podium. I didn't know what had changed now, but if this was good for anything, it was for thinking about the statement I had to write before leaving the paddock. Since I don't give interviews, the federation required me to write a statement after each race, answering certain questions and discussing the event. It was a good moment for me—while the others were doing live interviews, I had no pressure inside the motorhome, typing away on my computer.

But now, I just hoped things wouldn't keep changing like they just had.

NEXT: 02. I DON'T WANNA TALK

taglist: @heyyur @dreadity-dread @moonchouus

[andi-o-geyser]

actually i’ve come to the conclusion after finishing andor and sitting in it for around a week that the sequels were actually fucked from the start. like yeah, no shit from a development and story perspective they were a mess because there was no plan but on a BASIC LEVEL they were fucked because there is a fundamental lack of creativity. yes there is always a push and pull between fascism and democracy, yes it makes sense that people seek power and after swinging far left you then often swing back far right. but none of that should have been the first order. it’s just at a basic level a very uninteresting enemy to examine. we already did that song and dance, and the complete lack of any explication (completely ignoring the whole later palpatine angle because we all agree the writers should be shot and quartered for that) for how another galaxy spanning empire rose not even 20 years after the end of the previous one which lasted almost the exact same amount of time is bonkers. i actually really enjoy the force awakens, i think it’s a fun movie, but it is to its own detriment that it is a legacy sequel with nothing new to say because that means there IS NO STORY. like i honest to god at this point find that for me, the story ends after return of the jedi. that’s it. because it is such lazy damn writing to have actually nothing to say and no creativity to make a new threat. we all think the aesthetic of the empire is cool, we get it. there is no world in which it should pull main focus. and i’m not saying i have a better idea, but all i know is they should have been starting from square one and not relied on the originals at all. the vibe of the prequels is so distinct from the original trilogy for a reason, and that’s because there was an actually separate (not completely, but you get what i mean) story to tell. the basic failure of the sequels was that there was never anything there. we did this song and dance already. we already liked it. this detracts from everything before and devalues and idea that there can ever be change or completion, because what’s the damn point if the same empire won’t stop coming back? there have been thousands of years with different power structures and orders ruling the galaxy or fighting for control, and to think that the fucking empire/first order and any carbon cutout following them is the only option is lazy. i just. it’s fucking lazy it’s uninteresting and lazy and there’s nothing to be saved because it decided it NEEDS to work off of the status quo of the heroes being the underdog. i promise, i PROMISE you there is so much more to explore. also jj abrams meet me on a cliff at dawn i just wanna talk

[salstray]

Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader - Guardian Angel 3rd person pov warnings: blood, bullet wounds, swearing, guns 1k words~

---

part 2 = part 3

---

“Keegan! Keegan! God damn it, respond! Where are you?!” 

Merrick’s voice was laying in his lap, calling out from the ear piece that had been knocked from Keegan’s head when the Fed sniper had slammed his elbow into the Ghost’s temple. That same sniper was now laying in a mangled, bloody heap at the bottom of the cliff he’d once been scouting from, but the pistol he’d used to punch a hole right through Keegan’s stomach was laying only a foot away from the sole of his boot. Probably still warm from the discharge. 

Keegan groaned, blinking a few times, slow and sluggish as he focused all his energy on pressing his glove to his leaking wound. 

He needed to use his other hand to press the radio. To make contact. Tell his team where he was and what his status was so they could, at the very least, get his corpse somewhere they could bury him. But everything was thick and syrupy. Coated in molasses and hard to push through. 

Already lost too much blood, he thought to himself. 

“Keegan!” Merrick’s voice was laced with desperation. Fraying at the edges, cracking as he called to him, over and over, begging for something, anything that would tip them off to his position. That would give them a hint as to where he’d ended up. Had he made it to the house? Had he taken out the sniper? Was he still alive?

They wouldn’t get their answers. Not from him and not from the bullet that had torn right through his intestines. 

Keegan’s eyes fluttered and he sucked in a deep breath as he tried to tug them open again. 

Focus. What do you see?

Greenery. Ferns and underbrush. The house the sniper had set up in had been some sort of isolated vacation home on the side of the mountain. More taken by time than the crash of ODIN to the earth. Simply abandoned. There was a moldy, dirty sofa to the right of the room. Sitting in front of an overturned coffee table. Brown with rainwater and animal activity. There was a perfect set of paw prints that he could track on the arm-rest. Probably a fox or something that had found its way through one of the many shattered windows, looking to take a few berries from the blooming bush that half hung down through the collapsed ceiling. 

His head rolled to the side, his cheek resting against his left shoulder as his breath slowly pushed free from his lungs. Keegan couldn’t feel most of his limbs at this point, but he didn’t let up the pressure on his wound, even if it wouldn’t do anything but delay the inevitable. 

The wall on this side of the house had also fallen in. Either by a storm, human interference, or something else, he didn’t know. Insulation flapped in the wind, softly patting the drywall that was steadily crumbling away to dust with time. Beyond the wall was a cliff. The one Keegan had full body shoved the sniper off of. A small smile twitched its way onto his cheeks under the mask at the memory of the scream. Then the echoing crack and the answering silence. 

At least I’ll see you in hell, bastard.

Finally, his eyes closed. It was supposed to be a blink, but… opening them again felt like it would take more energy then he had left… so they didn’t. 

“Answer me, Russ! That’s a fucking order!”

Sorry, Merrick.

“Keegan!”

End of the line.

“Keegan!”

“Keegan?” 

A new hand pressed against his. Warm. Soft. Somehow he could tell, even through the gloves and the icy feel of blood loss. 

“Still with me?” 

That wasn’t Merrick. His voice was rough. Commanding and sharp. This one was… quiet. Feminine. It wasn’t coming from his fallen earpiece, either. It was right in front of him. Clear as day. 

“I got you, Sergeant. Don’t worry. You’ll be okay, I promise.” 

He still couldn’t open his eyes. His body was heavy. Heavy in a way he’d never felt before. It wasn’t the pull of exhaustion. He was used to that, knew how to fight it off better than anyone. This was the drag of death. 

And yet... he was still alive.

The warmth that pushed through his glove bled through his whole arm. From the tips of his fingers up to his shoulder, then deeper, into his chest and his lungs. Then down into his wound. He didn’t feel the bullet push its way out of his body, but the quiet clink of it hitting the wood between his thighs made him flinch.

“Easy,” the new voice called again. Another hand appeared, cupping his cheek, warm and welcoming, the thumb brushing against the edge of the mask under his eyes, which he still couldn’t seem to open. “Almost done.” 

Almost done with what…?

Finally, Keegan’s eyes popped open. Wide and wild, shifting across the room, from right to left and back again, searching for the source of the voice. The hands, the warmth. But the room was empty. 

It was just him. The pistol. And Merrick’s voice from his lap, agonized and drenched in defeat..

“God, damn it…” 

Keegan’s right hand pulled away from his stomach, towards his rifle, which had fallen off his lap when he’d slid to the ground with his back to the wall, bleeding like a stuck pig. The other went to the earpiece and he wedged it back in place under the fabric of his mask before pushing at the button on his radio.

“Sniper’s down,” Keegan said simply. 

“Keegan?! What the hell, what happened to you?!” 

The Ghost’s hand fell away from his radio, down to his abdomen, where he’d been bleeding from minutes ago. But there was no blood to be found, now. Just a single hole torn right through his jacket, his hoodie, and his shirt, exposing a smooth spot of skin on his stomach, right under the line of his vest. 

There wasn’t even a scar. 

“Got held up. Heading back your way.” 

He’d figure out the details later. Think about the voice, the hands, the wound later. For now, he’d continue on, haunting Federation territory like he was supposed to with his fellow Ghosts, the quiet thought of Guess I got a Guardian Angel or something... in his mind.

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch15

Description: We catch Hassan - We meet Graves - Rudy is potential BFF material, Simon is resisting. Laika is exhausted and hurt.. we will see how she gets on at base in the next chapter!!

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

Sitting in the back seat of the car is uncomfortable. My body begins to seize up, cold, wet clothes not helping. I am cramping badly through my injured shoulder, I keep rolling it and shrugging it to try and keep movement while we are in the car. Obviously it has to be the shoulder that's closest to the Lieutenant so I try my best now to bother him but I can feel his side eye in my peripheral.

*Simon's POV*

The girl had been injured. No fuckin' wonder. She's vanished several times when shit's hit the fan. When we first entered the village with Alejandro, she followed us until the first shot was fired, then her scent disappeared, I had to concentrate on the job at hand but I was pissed off - I thought she had done a runner. Imagine my shock when we arrive to the house Alejandro knew Hassan had been in to find guards already dropped. Not only that, but there was obviously a bit of a struggle in the final room. The biggest guard had something over his face and had had his throat slit messily - that's when I see it. In his hand. Her fuckin' handkerchief that had caused so much trouble when she first arrived. She'd been here before us...

I keep this information to myself, quickly stuffing the hanky into my front chest pocket before anyone saw. If she had been here already, where the fuck was she now?!

I return to the conversation with Alejandro, trying to push aside my concern for the girl. Then she innocently pops her head round the doorway and Johnny swallows her lies hook, line and sinker.. I glance down and see that her knees are covered in blood - that would have happened during the struggle with the final guard. Stupid girl coming here alone. Could have come up here to find her dead.. taking stupid, needless risks would get her killed. And Hassan had already moved, so it was totally pointless..

During the chase with the Cartel controlled Army, I notice that she keeps holding her right shoulder - she's hurt. I keep an eye on her until she disappears again. I keep growling under my breath.. this girl is a fuckin' liability! I'd need to tell Price when I call him later on..

Johnny appears, a little behind the main group - he shouts to me asking where the girl is - I just shout that she will have to catch up. Then the whistle of a sniper bullet flies through the mountains towards us. I quickly clock it as friendly fire, due to an army troop falling forwards. She is flanking them from behind. I wasn't sure if that was clever or fuckin' stupid..

She will find herself facing friendly fire if she isn't careful..

She reunites with the group near the cliff - still favouring that damn shoulder. She screams in agony when Johnny catches her mid-jump. Johnny flinches at her reaction, he probably doesn't realise it yet but his inner-Alpha is clearly in turmoil due to her sharp "don't touch me" scream. He takes a few minutes to start smelling like normal Johnny again.

I guess I'm not in her good graces anyway, so when she hesitates and looks back toward the army when Alejandro jumps into the river, I act before she has chance to make yet another stupid decision - I throw her off of the cliff. Of course she can't fuckin' swim - my stomach sinks as I see her splash and struggle in the water. Thankfully I reach her and scoop her to the surface before handing her to Johnny to take care of. I feel the slightest bit of guilt but at the end of the day, I know Kyle and the Captain would not be happy if she ended up in a casket.

We squeeze into the car - all to close for comfort - especially fully kitted out with weapons and kit, not to mention being fuckin' soaked. The girl keeps rolling her shoulder, touching up against me in the process. I glance at her face, she keeps wincing but is obviously trying to be brave about it.

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

"You boys good to roll up on Hassan with some fire from the sky?" Its that chirpy American again. "Lets wrap this fucker up, Graves" Johnny replies aggressively. A shiver travels down my spine - the last time I'd seen Johnny so hot-headed, was when he captured me for the first time...

We arrive to the position and leap from the pick up truck. It's a bit daunting because it was now just the four of us - the others had extracted to re-join Rudy. I look to the sky and see the American's air support circling above the area. "Shadow-1 , we will mark our position with an IR Laser" - "Roger that, Lieutenant".

"Position marked - there are four of you? Over" the American voice asks. "Four, yes - over" Ghost responds.

I gulp, Ghost motions us forward - I can't hide or go on my own this time, knowing that I'm now at risk of being blown up from the air. My arm aches, but I push that to the back of my mind and tentatively raise my gun and stick close to Johnny. We spot a few armed men and a couple of incoming trucks. Gun fire erupts and I quickly return fire, dropping a couple of men. The car to my right explodes.

"Negative on Hassan" Ghost shouts after about fifteen minutes of fighting - "Copy, you have multiple vehicles approaching from the South - I need you to move North, NOW, Lieutenant!" Graves shouts over comms.

"Copy - moving" we head away from the buildings and once we are clear, fire rains from the sky. They completely flatten three buildings, debris flying everywhere. A small piece of wood slices the tiniest cut in my cheek and I wince at the initial sting. I reach up and touch it, it's barely a paper cut but it's bleeding like crazy. I ignore it - it doesn't hurt anyway.

We enter the main courtyard and Alejandro gets a visual on Hassan, he tries to flee but Johnny and Alejandro are on his tail.

The Lieutenant and I remain outside, guarding the entrance. I am beginning to get overwhelmed by the crashes of the air support. My head is pounding and the taste of blood from the small cut on my cheek isn't nice either. I try to gather my thoughts, desperate to finish and be able to have a hot bath..

"Target Secured!!!" Johnny shouts from inside the house, Ghost relays the message to Graves.

"Whats the status of your exfil?" the American asks. "two minutes out!" - "You've got a military convoy approaching the AO" - "They're with the cartel - free to engage!" Alejandro calls to Graves.

Rudy approaches in the black jeep and we all emerge from the house. Johnny has Hassan and shoves him in the back seats, sitting next to him to keep him quiet and make sure he doesn't try anything. Ghost roughly grabs my arm (the good arm luckily) and drags me to the rear door, opening to reveal bench style seats in the back of the jeep. He shoves me in and climbs in after me.

"Go Rodolfo - package secure. We are RTB" I furrow my brows, confused by all of the military jargon. We travel quickly away from the danger, dirt roads kicking up dust in our wake. Rodolfo comes to a sudden halt. We look around before Graves' voice cuts through on comms again "what's the hold up..?"

"Shadow-1, there's movement at the fuel station ahead.. possible Cartel" - "Copy, we'll recon the area - be prepared to move.." Graves replies to Alejandro.

I whine to myself and squeeze my eyes tightly closed, trying to get myself into the correct head space again. We wait, stationary, in the car for a couple of minutes before Graves tells us to move. Apparently there were no threats in the area.. my eyes remain trained on the men at the gas station up ahead. As we approach the gas station a man starts to cross the road. "Rudy! Drive!!" I shout, shocking everyone in the car - it's the first words I openly speak to the entire group. It's too late though. I'd noticed the parked car, revving up too late. We reach a junction and get slammed into by another car, purposely flipping our vehicle.

I grunt with the impact, I'd been unbelted in the back so when the car had flipped and landed on the roof, I'd been thrown backwards and hit the roof, hard - on my already sore shoulder.

As soon as I get my bearings and manage to open the door, I see Cartel men climbing from the car that they'd crashed into us. I then hear bullets rain from above again, far too close for comfort. The lieutenant sees how close I am to being hit and barks down his radio "SHADOW-1, CHECK FIRE _ CHECK FIRE".

I manage to crawl from the upturned car, holding my shoulder. Fucking hell.. why did I agree to this..?

Alejandro leads everyone to a secure building and instructs his Omega to call for helicopter extraction. Fucking finally!

I hide behind a counter in the building. It looks like some sort of restaurant. I close my eyes and collect myself before Johnny slides beside me with the hostage. He smiles at me as if to apologise for hurting my arm earlier and check if I was holding up.. its amazing how he can convey so much with just a simple look..

Hassan then turns his head to face me and sneers at me. "Didn't realise they use little bitches in the military now, huh?" he taunts. I look away, disgusted. Johnny roughly shuts him up by headbutting him. "You fuckin' shut it, pal!" he barks, bits of spit flying from his mouth in his rage. I try to shuffle away but Johnny reaches my hand and squeezes it softly "Don't listen to him, Lass.."

All of a sudden the heavens open. The Shadows must be flattening the place. There are shouts and orders coming through over comms and then Graves addresses us for the first time in a while instead of his own men. "They're sending everyone they've got - but your exfil is here. If you can make it to the football pitch, east as you leave the building, you'll be extracted. We will cover from the air..over!" He shouts over the crashing and bangs of explosions and screaming.

I take a deep breath and stand, following Rodolfo. "You better fuckin' cover us, Shadows.. We've burnt through ammo - not got much left.." the Lieutenant growls down the radio.

"We'll do what we can. They're sending fuckin' missiles back to us - so hurry your asses up!" the thick southern drawl shouts.

"Argh!" Rudy shouts "I'm down to two mags.. not enough" I tap him on the shoulder and offer him my Assault Rifle, wordlessly. He looks down at me confused but I old up my knife and smaller pistol as if to say 'I've got plenty'. He takes the gun from me with a quick nod.

*Rudy's POV*

I feel a tap on my shoulder. It's the Garrick girl. She holds her gun out to me, obviously hearing that I hadn't got much ammo left. She wants me to take her gun..? I must look confused because she then removes a pistol and knife from her belt and thigh holster. At least she won't be unarmed.. I take the gun with a thankful nod.

I neglect to comment on the fact that the knife was covered in fresh blood. It was still red, yet as far as I'm aware, we hadn't come close enough for any knife fights.

Strange girl... I'm not sure if I'm imagining it but I think I catch a faint scent of honey and.. oranges..? Omega, like me....???

Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

We leave the building and arrive to utter chaos outside. Fire, debris and men who had been blown to pieces. I try not to look. I just follow the others towards the sound of the helicopter blades.

I make it to the helicopter, the journey here had been a total blur. I'd taken a bullet graze to the leg, but it was just a small wound. It hardly makes a difference to my utterly exhausted body. Alejandro is first to the chopper, escorting everyone inside. He pats Rudy twice on the back as he steps in. I'm last to make it and he pushes me towards Ghost. I stumble on the ramp and put my arms out to save my fall when I'm caught by two strong arms. The lieutenant. "Watch it, girl.." I glance up at him, embarrassed, and quickly shuffle to sit on the opposite side, furthest from everyone, but only a seat away from Rudy.

"Vamos! Go Now!!" Alejandro roars to the pilot. We lift off and head to safety. I shut my eyes and exhale, trying to release all of the pent up tension in my body.

We fly for what seems like ages. I manage to fall into a peaceful state which I would count as rest but it wasn't really. More like sheer exhaustion. We land in the middle of the desert, it seems. I look at the others, confused.. "Time to meet Phillip Graves.." the Lieutenant grumbles, standing and opening the helicopter ramp..

It's dark out, a circle is lit by the car headlights that are already waiting for our arrival.

Johnny drags Hassan out with a sack over his head that he had put on him when he called me a bitch.

"Oan your knees!" Johnny slams him roughly to the ground. A blonde man steps forward from one of the cars and opens a computer. "Y'all got a clear picture?" he says in a familiar voice. Graves. It was Graves. He was an Alpha.. He smells of bourbon and spices.. it isn't an unpleasant scent but it's too sharp for my taste..

I then hear an older man's voice and a woman, who I think to be Laswell, reply over the laptop speakers. What am I witnessing here...? Are they about to torture him..?

I whimper slightly, under my breath and the American looks up at me, meeting my eyes. I stand, nervously on the top of the helicopter ramp.

Graves chuckles and introduces himself to the team, shaking everyone's hands as they are down on the ground. I am the only one still on the chopper. He directs his attention towards me.. I watch him nervously.

"So, sweetheart, you must be the number four I spotted from the TV-visuals up in the air.. I was advised that there was only the lieutenant and sergeant joinin’ us on this mission.."

"Last minute change of plans, Graves!" Laswell answers on my behalf. Graves doesn't take his eyes off of me.

The Lieutenant interrupts, clearly wanting to get on with the interrogation. I silently thank him for that, even though I know he didn't do it for my benefit.

Graves slowly shifts his gaze away from me and as soon as he does, I feel safer - more relaxed. God, he is intense..

Rudy walks back towards the helicopter and stops at the bottom of the ramp. I try to keep my eyes on Hassan, to make it look like I'm concentrating.

Hassan speaks up first "Do you speak Arabic?" he asks Graves, who crosses his arms with an obnoxious smile on his face.

"Nope!" he says, cheerfully, clearly trying to piss Hassan off.

"Farsi?" Hassan tries.

Graves looks skywards as if he is sarcastically thinking.. "No!" - what a cocky arsehole!!

"Course not" Hassan answers "Then I'll have to speak your bastardised medieval English because you're all uneducated streetdogs!" He snaps, looking around the group.

His eyes settle on me when he says 'streetdogs'. My body tenses and I gulp. He has a knowing look in his eyes.. Does he..? - he couldn't possibly...

I turn sharply and walk back into the hold of the helicopter. He smirks and laughs once before turning back to face Graves. I sit with my head resting in my hands.

I try not to break down. I'm almost at the point of tears when I feel a calming presence appear next to me. I glance out of the corner of my eye. It's Rudy.

"We will leave the mean stuff to the Alpha's huh?" He says with a friendly, gentle tone.

I sob a laugh, slightly turning toward him.

"Why are you upset..?" He asks with furrowed brows.

"I - I'm not cut out for all of this..." I whimper, in reply.

"I'd say you did a pretty good job today, Amorcito, no?"

I shake my head "I was a - a liability.."

"No no, you weren't.. you're very brave.. I know I wasn't there for some of it.. but I notice you've used your knife..brave girl.. I try not to get close enough.. or they smell me.."

"Oh.. I didn't use - I don't know..." - "You don't have to lie around me, Amorcito, please..?"

"That's.. that's not my name.. I'm - I'm Y/N.. or Laika.." I sniffle

"I know, it isn't your name" he chuckles softly back.

"Hey, look.. look at me Amorcito" I look up at him. "You've done a great job today. Come with me.. we will get cleaned up.. leave them to interrogate the terrorist.." he offers me a hand and pulls me from my chair with my good arm.

I walk with him to the back of the helicopter where he gathers a medical kit. He takes some wipes and antiseptic gel. He starts by gently wiping the small cut on my cheek. "Air support is messy, no? Glass and wood flying everywhere.. Alejo told me to keep an eye on you. I'm sure he thinks you are called Garrick.." He chuckles.

I blush and look down at the floor. "I - I'm not.." - "Is Garrick the name of your Alpha..?" He asks.. I freeze.

"Oh.. no-NO .. I don't.. I'm not.." - "Not what, Amorcito..?" he looks confused by all of my stuttering.

"Not presented. I'm a - I'm a stray they took in. They don't really want me here.. Laswell just told them to babysit me..." I dump on him.

He looks at me as if he doesn't believe me "Now, I'm sure that's not true.. I - I can tell your two Alpha's out there are fond of you. Even the Ghost..."

"He- He hates me, Rodolfo.. you've not seen.." - "Rudy, please.. and I've seen plenty to know what I see.. please.. join Alejo and I for dinner tonight. I will show you to your room. The base is going to be busier than usual - we have the Shadows and yourselves staying.."

I gulp. "I - I don't sleep well" - "Don't worry about that.. your Captain called ahead. We have organised everything so it's as comfortable as possible for you, Amorcito".

He gently taps me on the calf, just below where I'd been grazed by the bullet. "That's you cleaned. No infections hopefully, lets go sit down.."

I hadn't even realised that he had been cleaning the wound on my leg. I smile and wince as I stand, using my bad arm to push myself up.

"Oh, and take this for the shoulder. Hopefully just deep bruising..."

I nod and smile at him. He smiles fondly back when he sees that I'm more comfortable around him.

We sit back in the main hold together, Rudy directly next to me this time.

I yawn and he chuckles. "Tired, Amorcito?" - "A little bit, yeah.."

He tells me to rest my eyes and I do, the interrogation is still ongoing outside, it's just quiet back ground noise from where we are sitting though.

*Johnny's POV*

This Hassan dick! We had to let the Prick go!! Apparently not enough to hold him on.. what the FUCK!! I can feel my hot headed temper flaring as we walk back to the chopper. Simon clasps me by the shoulder before stepping onto the ramp. "Quiet Johnny, I'm pissed off too, but -" he nods towards Laika..she is fast asleep on Rudy's shoulder.

My temper dampens a little bit but I am still fuckin' raging.

I sit across from Rudy and Laika and watch her fondly. I was a little surprised that Simon had told me to calm down. I wouldn't have thought he would give a shit if I had woke her up or not.

Alejandro pipes up quietly from his spot beside Rudy. "You've made a new friend, Cariño?" Rudy chuckles and nods gently. "What did she say..?" he asks.. "Nothing much, alpha - she is a nervous, shy little thing.." he says smiling down at my the girl fondly..

My Alpha feels like growling at Rudy.. but I manage to hold it in. He is an Omega, after all. And she looks so relaxed for once.

Alejandro chuckles and raises an eyebrow at Rodolfo "If you take her under your wing, Cariño, we could keep her.." he jokes, kissing Rudy on the cheek before standing and heading towards the pilot.

Simon growls at that.. I look over, shocked that he had been listening and that he seemed to care...

Laika stirs and blinks her eyes open, seeing that we are back on the chopper and in the air. Her eyes flash to a growling Ghost. Not helpful.. She whines and backs away slightly, apologising to Rudy.

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

Darkness and calm took over. I was comfortable and surrounded by a soft, calming scent. I am disrupted by a fiery smell and the low sound of a growl. I blink away the peaceful sleep I'd been having and meet eyes with the Lieutenant. My mind immediately flashes back to Hassan calling me 'streetdog'... what had he told them?? Was Ghost going to kill me??

I scramble backwards away from Rudy and away from the growling. Johnny leaps forward and catches me before I fall off of the seat. As soon as I am in Johnny's arms, the growling stops. I'm shaking like a leaf and Johnny gently shushes me and strokes my hair as I rest against his chest. He sits down with me practically in his lap.

*Rudy's POV*

I am shocked.. the poor girl is terrified by Ghost. I understand now what she means. But she has got it all wrong. The Lieutenant was only marking his territory. Alejo has always been a flirt. He is a fiery, hot-blooded Alpha. His comment was a little joke, but the Lieutenant didn't seem to like it one bit. I sit quietly, allowing the pair of Alphas to settle before standing up and walking towards Ghost. The Omega in me is brave now, having spent many years in the military and standing up to Alphas, but I still feel like I'm fighting instincts when I stand face to face with an angry Alpha.

The massive, angry Alpha stares down at me. I know he isn't angry with me, so I proceed.

"Lieutenant.." I whisper.

"What!" he growls back.. this might not go down well..

"The girl.. what is she to you and your pack?" I ask, gently. "She ain't pack..." He growls again.

"She smells like pack.. She is wearing Garrick's, whoever that is, jumper.." I accuse with an eyebrow raised.

"She ain't-" I sniff the air, interrupting him, "Even you, lieutenant - you smell of her.. she has a faint smell.. but I can smell it on you...why is that..?"

He huffs under his breath. "I don't know and I don't care.." He is resisting - not good with words.. got it..

"So, you won't mind if she stays with Alejo and I while you are here in Las Almas?" I taunt, gently.

He growls again. "Your Captain requested safe, secure sleeping quarters. No un-mated Alphas.. we will keep her safe.." I raise my eyebrow.

"That's what Johnny and I are here for" he barks at me.

"For what..? I don't follow?" I act, trying to get him to say something more.

"The girl shares with Johnny and I, that's final". I smirk.

"Suit yourself, Lieutenant. You may wish to apologise and treat her a little more softly if you wish to spend the night with her.." I tease, walking to Alejo before he grabs me when he realises I'd backed him into a corner. Alphas can be so stupid when they are pining after Omegas...

*Ghost's POV*

Fuckin' stupid Alpha.. you'd fallen for Rudy's little ploy.. Thinkin' with your fuckin' Alpha brain again. Possessive, protective, selfish shitbag!

We touchdown at the Vaqueros' base and I glance to Johnny. The girl was curled up in his lap. Does she know that she is scenting him..? Her nose is stuffed right in the crook between his shoulder and neck, where his scent glands are. Johnny just grins at me as if he had won the fuckin' lottery, puttin' his thumbs up and everything.

Fuckin' hell - the quicker this mission is over, the better...

[iguessitsjustme]

Pit Babe 2 Ep 6 Thoughts

Another week. Another Pit Babe 2 liveblog. I have had one glass of wine already. Under the cut:

Every week I say it and every week I mean it. This theme song slaps.

This episode better give me more KentaKim and NorthSonic. And less Pete. Please less Pete. No hate if you love him but I find him sooooo boring.

Ah right. This is where he left off. Send Willy to the cliff. It's time to push (I still kind of love him though in a he needs to die kind of way)

Charlie is correct to walk away.

Oof that's rough. Giving the ring back.

I mean you look like Way. So. No.

He's asking the right question. And I'm not saying this because Willy assaulted Babe. Which is not Babe's fault. I am saying that Babe should have TALKED TO HIS BOYFRIEND. But then again he is traumatized. Tony really did a number on these boys. I love them all.

HEH

Sidewalk children go AWAY…they are SCREAMING. WHERE are their parents.

Jeff so smart

What I wanted was Sorn pain not Babe pain. 

Lol Charlie watching drunk Babe struggle shouldn't be funny to me but it is. Am I a bad person?

This fight is a doozy wow.

I love them both but they're both being stupid. And also they both need to give each other some time to process.

Eh PeteChris. Not my cup of tea but it is what it is.

Nooo Charlie don't risk your health baby boy

KENTAKIM MY BOYSSSSSSSSSS

I'm normal about this

Oh the wine's wearing off. I need. Moar.

Chris is too smart for this show. Is he sketchy and suspicious? Yes. But also. He has. Un brain.

How artistic of you

Noooo Charlie don't let Willy goad you into racing. You're better than this

Is Charlie just doing this to figure out his sense so Babe can stay away from him?

Ohhh I'm shocked I tell ya SHOCKED that Willy is Tony's man. Oh who could have EVER seen this coming!

NorthSonic breaking my damn heart.

Especially North. Look at his faaaaaaaaaaace.

BABE PUT HIS GLASSES. BACK. ON.

Charlie and Babe back to their usual ways of resolving conflict I see.

Charlie gonna leave him though.

What an episode. I will retain maybe 50% of it. I need. Less couples I think. There's simultaneously too much going on and also not enough.

I'm gonna go drink more wine now.

[tripleglitchwriting]

Wohoo! My first fic on this blog.

This one isn’t specifically any continuity, it’s kind of a mishmash of all of them. It is set in a first contact universe.

Ratchet-centric, GN human reader (though there are POV changes)

Ignition (Part 1)

CW: Graphic injury, mild language, angst

Flashing lights and blaring sirens shouted at Ratchet from all sides of the ship. He’d been in the medbay when the attack started- while not entirely unexpected considering where they were it was still a surprise. Despite their best efforts, a Decepticon ship had managed to track them down.

Not two minutes later Optimus ordered a retreat. At the time it didn’t make much sense to Ratchet, but he trusted his friend enough to go with it. Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Drift, Wheeljack, and a couple others joined him in getting into an escape pod. Frankly, he was hesitant to go, there were plenty of bots unaccounted for still on the main deck, but Optimus let everyone know through the comm link that he had a plan. With that he begrudgingly boarded his pod, expecting to be launched into space and put into stasis. The pod shot out of the ship normally, but the next couple minutes were anything but normal.

Outside the small window he immediately noticed they were very, very close to a nearby planet. So close, in fact, the escape pods wouldn’t be able to get out of orbit. Immediately after that realization, and saying something along the lines of “this couldn’t get any worse”, things got worse. The pods’ emergency warning systems activated, which would have been a surprise if Ratchet didn’t already feel the impact of what was most likely heavy blaster fire on the back of it.

Again, lights flashed and sirens of all sorts begged for his attention, yet the stasis lock system was a-okay. It was also beginning to activate. Now as he plummeted to an unfamiliar planet in a damaged escape pod he could only hope the rest of his friends were safe. Then, he heard a very loud explosion from farther away and promptly went into stasis.

—————————

“Go on a hike”, they said, “It will make you feel better”, they said. Well, right now you feel pretty damn bad considering you were incredibly lost, had no idea how to survive in the wild, and you had a very definitely broken leg.

It hurt like hell when you fell and it really didn’t get any better from there. Most of your body was either scratched or developing a nasty bruise, other than your right leg which was bent in a way it shouldn’t be. You fought off nausea as you lay on the forest floor, at the bottom of a steep cliff, tears stinging your eyes and hands clutching the bag you managed to hold onto. You didn’t think it could get any worse. Of course, that notion was quickly thrown out the window when a very loud explosion shook your aching body to its core.

You groaned at the feeling, but still turned to look in the direction of whatever it was. You didn’t see much other than trees, leaves, and your own tears clouding your vision, but you did notice some weird thing streaking through the sky. God, maybe you hit your head harder than you thought. Still, even if you did just spontaneously develop exploding head syndrome and began hallucinating, checking out a possible source of help was better than laying in your spot to rot.

You just needed to drag yourself to wherever it was… and try to ignore the pain while you did it. Needless to say, you made it a solid two feet before your body gave out and you lost consciousness.

————————

Ratchet woke up in what was now effectively a pile of burnt metal. He murmured some unintelligible curses to himself before running a self diagnostic- luckily nothing too bad had happened to him, at least nothing he couldn’t fix. He tried to activate his comm link, which unsurprisingly only sputtered static. He pushed down the horrible feeling in his fuel tank in favor of focusing on the problem at hand: Where the frag was he?

Slamming his servo on the release switch, Ratchet stumbled out of the pod, falling on the floor immediately. Right, his injuries. He would have to fix that. Just after he made sure the rest of the crew was alright. Looking up he noticed the world around was primarily organic. He’d landed in some dense forested location. The good news was the temperature, atmosphere, and plant life (from what he could tell from a simple scan) were safe. The bad news was there was absolutely nothing remotely cybertronian within scanning range, which meant his friends had probably landed much farther away, or… well anything could have happened, really. He’d just have to hold onto hope, not that that has done much good so far.

If there was any sentient life on this planet (which, frankly, he doubted there was) they weren’t anywhere around here. During the war the Autobots had visted plenty of organic planets with sentient organic lifeforms, though not all of them were friendly. Either way, by the looks of things he was going to be here awhile. He realized a lot later than he’d ever admit in order to explore around being able to walk would be pretty useful, so Ratchet began repairs. It wasn’t long before he was able to get back on his pedes with minimal pain. The next step was to look for anything useful.

Unfortunately, despite how broad the term was, “anything useful” didn’t seem to show itself. There was dirt, plants, and more dirt. There were various creatures he would have loved to have a look at if the situation wasn’t so dire. As the planets star went down and dark started to creep into the land, his grip on hope started to slip just a bit more.

Ratchet decided to go back to his pod- maybe he could fix up the distress beacon, or patch up his comm link, or just do anything other than walking around getting dirty. Of course, just as the pod came into distant view, a high pitched squealing noise from below nearly gave him a spark-attack.

It was small, probably the size of one of his digits. Splayed out on the ground with this strange expression on its face. When he looked down at it, the thing made a similar noise, trying to move back. Most of the creatures he’d encountered had scampered off before he could get a good look, but this one stayed put, its little chasis heaving up and down at an alarming rate.

He bent down to get a better look at the thing. It had some sort of covering on it, something that wasn’t the plants he’d become so familiar with. Its face became strained as once again it tried to move back, now squeaking out unintelligible nonsense. The pieces soon clicked into place: It wasn’t curious or stupid, it was injured. That was made obvious by the small cuts decorated with dried red energon, or whatever organics had in them, but it was made very clear when he noticed the angle one of its limbs was at.

It was trying to leave but couldn’t move. Scrap, did he do this? Was it caught in the crash? He quickly moved to scoop the thing up out of instinct, but it only shouted more, this time with a feral twinge.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I’m going to help you.” Of course he knew speaking slowly wouldn’t make it understand, but maybe the tone would show his intent.

Judging by how its optics widened and began to drip some sort of liquid, he figured it was a failed attempt. Though even if it didn’t like it, the thing still needed help, and if he couldn’t help his friends at least he could help it. Whatever it was.

Very, very carefully he shimmied his digits under its back, trying again to speak in hushed tones. It squirmed and writhed and screamed, wincing at every touch. When it was safely in his servos he closed them around it, hopefully protecting it from any natural predators they might encounter. He grit his denta at every attempt it made to escape or wiggle free. As he made his way back to his pod, Ratchet had a feeling this was going to be more than he bargained for.