#why are search engines so bad now

[kpmeat]

anytime i do a discord call i start the convo talking completely normally but i know i like my friends if by the two hour mark i've started rocking back and forth and speaking in pictures

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

what’s the story about the generative power model and water consumption? /gen

There's this myth going around about generative AI consuming truly ridiculous amount of power and water. You'll see people say shit like "generating one image is like just pouring a whole cup of water out into the Sahara!" and bullshit like that, and it's just... not true. The actual truth is that supercomputers, which do a lot of stuff, use a lot of power, and at one point someone released an estimate of how much power some supercomputers were using and people went "oh, that supercomputer must only do AI! All generative AI uses this much power!" and then just... made shit up re: how making an image sucks up a huge chunk of the power grid or something. Which makes no sense because I'm given to understand that many of these models can run on your home computer. (I don't use them so I don't know the details, but I'm told by users that you can download them and generate images locally.) Using these models uses far less power than, say, online gaming. Or using Tumblr. But nobody ever talks about how evil those things are because of their power generation. I wonder why.

To be clear, I don't like generative AI. I'm sure it's got uses in research and stuff but on the consumer side, every effect I've seen of it is bad. Its implementation in products that I use has always made those products worse. The books it writes and flood the market with are incoherent nonsense at best and dangerous at worst (let's not forget that mushroom foraging guide). It's turned the usability of search engines from "rapidly declining, but still usable if you can get past the ads" into "almost one hundred per cent useless now, actually not worth the effort to de-bullshittify your search results", especially if you're looking for images. It's a tool for doing bullshit that people were already doing much easier and faster, thus massively increasing the amount of bullshit. The only consumer-useful uses I've seen of it as a consumer are niche art projects, usually projects that explore the limits of the tool itself like that one poetry book or the Infinite Art Machine; overall I'd say its impact at the Casual Random Person (me) level has been overwhelmingly negative. Also, the fact that so much AI turns out to be underpaid people in a warehouse in some country with no minimum wage and terrible labour protections is... not great. And the fact that it's often used as an excuse to try to find ways to underpay professionals ("you don't have to write it, just clean up what the AI came up with!") is also not great.

But there are real labour and product quality concerns with generative AI, and there's hysterical bullshit. And the whole "AI is magically destroying the planet via climate change but my four hour twitch streaming sesh isn't" thing is hysterical bullshit. The instant I see somebody make this stupid claim I put them in the same mental bucket as somebody complaining about AI not being "real art" -- a hatemobber hopping on the hype train of a new thing to hate and feel like an enlightened activist about when they haven't bothered to learn a fucking thing about the issue. And I just count my blessings that they fell in with this group instead of becoming a flat earther or something.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Barcelona Nights | LN4

⋆˙⟡♡ summary ━━━━━━━ YN gets caught masturbating in the hotel room by Lando.

⋆˙⟡♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k

⋆˙⟡♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The Barcelona air was thick with the hum of engines and the buzz of anticipation. Y/n stood on the balcony of the luxurious hotel suite, her fingers gripping the railing as she watched the city lights flicker to life in the distance. She could still hear the faint roar of the crowd from the circuit, even miles away. Her heart had been racing all day, though not because of the cars—Lando’s presence had a way of doing that to her.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Why did I agree to this? she thought, though deep down, she knew the answer. Lando had been persistent, charming, and borderline irresistible since the moment they’d met six months ago. His playful teasing, his unwavering attention, the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a room—it was intoxicating. And yet, she’d kept her feelings locked away, afraid to admit them even to herself.

The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lando stepping inside, his McLaren cap backwards, his face flushed from the day’s events. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm but slightly breathless. “Sorry it took so long. Post-qualifying stuff, you know how it is.”

Y/n nodded, trying to act casual. “No worries. How’d it go?”

He grinned, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “P2. Not bad, eh? But honestly, I couldn’t wait to get back here.” He walked over, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. “How about you? Enjoying Barcelona?”

“It’s… different,” she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. “But nice. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Like I’d leave you behind,” he said lightly, nudging her shoulder with his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the city’s energy wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Lando straightened up. “Listen, I’ve got some media stuff tomorrow morning early, so I’ll probably be out late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me, yeah?”

She nodded, though a part of her wished he’d stay. “Got it. Don’t let me keep you.”

He hesitated, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “Alright. See you later, yeah?”

“Later,” she echoed, watching as he grabbed a few things from the living room before heading out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious suite.

Y/n wandered back into the living room, her mind buzzing with restless energy. She poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as she tried to calm her nerves. But the more she sat there, the more aware she became of the tension simmering beneath her skin. It had been building for weeks—months, really—and now, alone in this lavish suite, it felt impossible to ignore.

She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way to her bedroom. The room was large and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. She closed the curtains, shutting out the world, and began to undress.

Her hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she peeled off her clothes and let them fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding as she reached for the dildo she’d packed in her luggage. It wasn’t something she normally brought on trips, but something about being here, in this city, in this suite, had compelled her.

She lay back against the pillows, her breath quickening as she positioned the toy between her legs. The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her hips arched instinctively, craving more, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, her fingers moving in tandem with the toy.

Her thoughts drifted to Lando—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her. She imagined his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his voice whispering her name. The fantasy consumed her, and soon she was moaning his name aloud, her hips grinding against the toy as her pleasure built.

Unbeknownst to her, Lando had returned to the suite way earlier than expected. He’d intended to grab something he’d forgotten, but the sound of her soft moans stopped him in his tracks. His breath caught, and he froze, his body reacting instantly to the realization of what was happening.

He crept closer to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and peered inside. The sight before him was enough to make his knees weak. Y/n was completely naked, her body glistening with sweat as she rode the dildo with abandon. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her face a mask of ecstasy as she whispered his name between gasps.

Lando’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, where he could feel himself hardening at the sight. He wanted to turn away, to give her privacy, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by her raw, unfiltered desire.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Y/n’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her movements faltered, and she scrambled to cover herself, her face flushing crimson. “Lando! Oh my god, I—”

He stepped into the room, holding up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low and husky. “Don’t apologize.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. “I-I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I was.”

Her breath hitched as he approached, his presence filling the room. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same desire that had been simmering between them for months finally coming to a head.

“You were saying my name,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and something far more primal. “Care to explain why?”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “What do you think?”

Lando smirked, closing the distance between them until he was standing at the edge of the bed. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “that it’s about time we stopped pretending.”

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured. “Because I’m done waiting.”

Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath caught somewhere between panic and desire as Lando’s thumb lingered on her lips. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, searching for the truth she had buried so deep inside herself. The air between them was charged, electric, and she felt like a single word could ignite everything.

“I…” she started, her voice barely audible, but Lando didn’t let her finish.

“No more hiding,” he said firmly, his hand still cradling her face. “Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She swallowed hard, her walls crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I… I want you,” she whispered, her voice shaking but clear. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando. I just… I didn’t think—”

He cut her off with a kiss, soft at first, testing, as if to make sure she meant every word she’d said. But the moment their lips met, something ignited—years of tension, longing, and unspoken feelings exploding in an instant. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her entire body tremble. It was raw, passionate, and utterly consuming. Every thought in her head evaporated, replaced only by the feeling of him—his taste, his warmth, his strength.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. “God, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the roughness of his stubble. “But Lando… we can’t… not now. You have to get to the track again.”

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to focus tonight knowing you’re here waiting for me?”

The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me like that.”

Lando lifted his head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, trust me, darling, that was just the beginning.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt a rush of heat pooling low in her stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled away before she could, stepping back with a look of mock regret.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I really do need to go. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook.” He winked, backing toward the door. “Be ready for me tonight, Y/n. I expect you to make good on all those fantasies you’ve been having about me.”

Before she could protest or even process what he’d just said, he was gone, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. She stared after him, her mind reeling. Did he just…? Yes, he did. A blush crept up her neck as she realized exactly what he’d overheard.

Groaning, she flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. This is going to be a long night, she thought, her heart still racing from the intensity of his kiss.

---

As the hours dragged on, Y/n found herself restless. She tried to distract herself—took a shower, changed into something comfortable, even attempted to read a book—but nothing could quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her, teasing her. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.

Her stomach flipped at the memory, and she found herself wondering just how far he planned to take this. Would he keep teasing her like he always did, or would he finally give in to the undeniable chemistry between them?

By the time the sun began to set, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room of the suite. Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, she heard the sound of a key card being inserted into the lock, and her heart leapt into her throat.

The door swung open, and there he was, looking as unfairly handsome as ever. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his shirt clung to his frame in a way that made her mouth go dry. He smirked when he saw her standing there, frozen in place.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way her heart was pounding. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Lando chuckled, setting his bag down by the door before walking toward her. “You really think I’d miss this?” he asked, stopping just inches away from her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“What?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Got something to prove, Norris?”

His laugh was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I’m going to prove so much more than that.”

Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head quickly, trying to hide the way her body reacted to his words. “No, thanks,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a defiant gesture.

He smirked, clearly not buying her act, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he tossed his shirt onto the chair beside him and turned toward the bathroom, giving her one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.

The sound of the shower starting filled the suite, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart was still racing, and her skin felt hot everywhere Lando’s gaze had touched her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door, then at the bed in his room, an idea forming in her mind.

What if I…?

Without giving herself time to second-guess, she slipped into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, listening to the faint sound of water running from the shower, then slowly began to undress. Her clothes fell to the floor in a pile, and she stepped out of them, feeling exposed yet exhilarated. She climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she waited.

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last. Her nerves were on edge, every sound making her jump slightly. Finally, the shower turned off, and she heard the bathroom door open. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Lando stepped into the room, towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp and tousled. He froze when he saw her in his bed, his eyes widening slightly before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who decided to make herself comfortable.”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to appear confident despite the way her pulse was racing. She shrugged, the motion causing the sheet to slip slightly, revealing the curve of her shoulder. “Your bed looked more inviting,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the bed. His movements were deliberate, each step bringing him closer until he was standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with a heated gaze. “And here I thought you weren’t interested in joining me earlier.”

She shifted under the covers, the sheet sliding down further to reveal the swell of her breasts. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his.

Lando chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for the towel around his waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he teased her with his next move. Slowly, almost torturously, he tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. His cock was already hard, thick and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips as her gaze traveled over him. God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her reaction.

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Very much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the end as he leaned over her. “Then why don’t you show me just how much?” he suggested, his tone teasing but unmistakably serious.

Y/n hesitated for only a moment before sitting up, letting the covers fall away completely as she moved toward him. She crawled across the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she positioned herself between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, warm and firm beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his cock before she finally took him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his head tilting back as her lips wrapped around him. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her but not forcing her, letting her set the pace.

She took her time, exploring him with her tongue, savoring the way he throbbed in her mouth. She kissed him, licked him, played

She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against the tip of his cock as she spoke, her voice low and teasing. “You have a very nice cock, Lando.” Her tongue flicked out to taste him again, and he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he breathed, his hands tightening in her hair. “You’re going to kill me.”

She smiled, her eyes locking with his as she took him deeper into her mouth, savoring the way he filled her. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, taste the saltiness of his skin, and it only made her want more. Her hand moved down to cup his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she sucked him, her lips moving up and down his length with practiced ease.

“I love your cock,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak before taking him in again. “I could suck it every day.”

Lando let out a choked laugh, his breath hitching as she worked him over. “You’re fucking insatiable,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only awe and desire.

As she continued to pleasure him, she could feel herself growing wetter, her own need building with every moan that escaped his lips. She was dripping onto the bed beneath her, her arousal impossible to ignore. When Lando noticed, his eyes darkened, and a sly grin spread across his face.

“Look at you,” he teased, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you? My little slut.”

She blushed at his words, but they only fueled her desire, making her even more desperate for him. She moaned around his cock, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of him filling her mouth.

But Lando had other plans. With a growl, he pulled her off him, ignoring her whimper of protest. He flipped her onto her back, his eyes raking over her naked body like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingered on the glistening wetness between her thighs, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“I need to taste you,” he declared, his voice rough with need. “Now.”

Before she could respond, he was on her, his mouth descending on her core with a hunger that left her gasping. His tongue delved into her, exploring her folds with an intensity that made her arch off the bed. She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue lapping at her wetness like a man dying of thirst.

“Lando!” she screamed, her hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, leaving her trembling and incoherent.

He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a wicked grin. “God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “I could eat you out all day and never get enough.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp as she begged him not to stop. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth returned to her, his tongue working her clit with a precision that had her seeing stars. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Lando!” she cried, her body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to lick and suck at her, drawing out her release until she was left boneless and panting.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with her wetness, and his eyes were filled with desire. He crawled up her body, his cock pressing against her thigh as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice fierce and possessive. “All mine.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.

There was no turning back now. The tension that had been simmering between them for months had finally boiled over, and neither of them could—or would—put out the fire. They were consumed by each other, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire that showed no signs of slowing down.

Lando positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation. There was none. Only want, need, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice husky with desire.

And then he was inside her, filling her completely as she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He started slow, allowing her time to adjust to him, but it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he thrust into her, each movement driving her higher and higher.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only feel. The way he filled her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. She clung to him, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groans as they moved together, chasing the ecstasy that only the other could provide.

And when it finally came, it hit them both like a freight train, their bodies shuddering as they reached the peak together. Lando’s name spilled from her lips like a prayer, and hers from his like a promise, as they tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.

For a moment, they simply lay there, tangled together and breathing heavily, the world outside forgotten. But as reality began to creep back in, Lando rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest.

“Tell me this is real,” he murmured, his voice soft but urgent as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She looked up at him, her heart aching with the depth of her emotions. “It’s real,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s always been real.”

He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, as if sealing the truth of her words. And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, leaving only the undeniable truth: they were meant for each other.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[raekensluver]

forbidden cravings

description: when taking a late night walk in the summer heat turns into an unforgettable night with your enemy theo raeken...you're not sure how to continue.

pairing: enemy!theo raeken x stilinski!werewolf!fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, hate sex, mentions of theo's betrayal, unprotected sex, p in v, squirting, car sex

song rec: renegade by aaryan shah- "oh, should've listened to them. oh, don't you know what i am?"

w.c: 4.5k

an: i of course had to write a fic with my og man. my original theodore. everything started with him. also this has been sitting in my drafts for foreverrrr and i need it gone.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted streets of beacon hills. a warm breeze whispered through the full branches of the trees, the heat sending an uncomfortable wave through your body. in the quiet, the distant hum of a car engine grew louder, interrupting the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your boots.

the headlights of theo raeken's blue pickup truck pierced the darkness as it approached, the engine purring like a wild beast stalking its prey. theo, a werewolf-coyote chimera, had a history of betrayal and violence that had earned him a place on your enemy list. but tonight, the universe played a cruel trick, making you reconsider your preconceptions.

you watched him roll down the window, the coolness of the car's interior briefly escaping into the warm night air. "it's going to be hot tonight," he called out, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of his reputation. "want a ride home?" you hesitated, stiles' warnings echoed in your mind, but something in theo's eyes—a glimmer of sincerity, perhaps—held you there.

"i don't trust you," you spat, your voice sharp . theo's smile was a sly curve in the shadows. "trust has to be earned," he replied, "but i'm just offering a refreshing, cool ride, not a knife in the back." you searched his gaze, looking for the usual deceit, but all you found was a hint of desperation. maybe he wasn't all bad. maybe.

"stiles would kill me," you said, your voice softer now, but the warning was clear. theo's eyes narrowed, and for a second, you saw a flash of anger. "stiles doesn't have to know," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "just this once, let's not let him dictate your choices." something in his words resonated with you, the desire for a moment of rebellion against the cautious world you've built around yourself.

you clenched your fists, weighing the risks and the crisp coolness of the truck against the scorching embrace of the night. "fine," you finally relented, sliding into the passenger seat. the door shut with a thud that echoed through the quiet. the shill from the vents washed over you, a stark contrast to the warming grip of the night outside. theo's smirk was victory in motion as he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb.

the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken tension and the roar of the engine. the town lights grew distant, swallowed by the darkness of the surrounding woods. you studied theo's profile, the sharp line of his jaw and the way his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. every muscle in your body was taut, ready to spring into action if needed.

his hand rested on the gearstick, tapping a rhythm that matched the pulse hammering in your ears. "so, how's scott?" he asked, his tone casual, but the mention of scott sent a spike of anger through you. "why do you care?" you shot back, the memory of his betrayal still fresh.

theo's eyes stayed on the road, his grip tightening slightly. "because i know i hurt him," he said, his voice heavy with a mix of regret and defiance. "i want to make amends, but i know i've got a long way to go." his honesty was disarming, and you felt your anger waver. "you've got more than a long way," you murmured, staring out the window at the passing trees.

the truck rumbled on, the tension in the vehicle was palpable. without looking at you, theo spoke again. "i've changed, you know." his words hung in the air like a challenge, a question wrapped in a declaration. you bit your lip, torn between the urge to believe him and the fear that he was playing another game.

finally, you turned to face him. "prove it," you said, your eyes searching his. theo's gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw and vulnerable in the depths of his pupils. without another word, he pulled the truck over into a clearing, the headlights cutting through the night to reveal a breathtaking view of beacon hills sprawled out beneath the moon.

he killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the thud of your heart. the cool leather of the seat sent a shiver down your spine as the coolness of the cabin faded. "how do you want me to prove it?" he asked, his voice low and rough. the question hung in the air, laden with a tension that was no longer just hostility.

you leaned back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. "i don't know," you said, the words coming out more as a challenge than a genuine inquiry. theo turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the moonlight. "i want to help," he said, his voice earnest. "i want to be on the right side this time."

his hand reached out, hovering near your arm but not quite touching. you felt the electricity of his proximity, a reminder of the power he wielded. the air grew thick with a scent that was both enticing and dangerous—his wolf. your own wolf stirred, curious despite your wariness. "fine," you said, your voice tight with tension. "prove it."

you watched as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. then, without warning, he leaned in, his mouth brushing against yours. it was a gentle touch, a question rather than a demand. your instincts roared, a mix of desire and anger, but instead of pushing him away, you found yourself leaning into the kiss. it grew deeper, more urgent, until your hands were tangled in his hair and you could taste the desperation in his kiss.

theo's hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you realized that the heat between you had nothing to do with the air pouring from the truck. your body responded in ways it never should have with an enemy, your heart racing as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. you bit back a gasp, your nails digging into his skin as the need for more grew unbearable.

without breaking the kiss, theo reached for the seatbelt, his movements deft and sure. the cool metal clicked open, and you were on him, straddling his lap, your thighs pressing against his, your hands roaming his body. his own were equally as hungry, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. the scent of your combined arousal filled the truck, the air thick with it.

but as your passion grew, so did the anger, a burning ember at the base of your spine. you pulled back, breathing heavily, your eyes flashing with the light of the moon. "you tried to kill him," you whispered, your voice a mix of pain and fury. "scott trusted you, and you stabbed him in the back."

theo's eyes searched yours, a hint of regret flickering in their depths. "i know," he murmured, his hands still on your hips. "i know what i did was unforgivable. but i'm not that person anymore."

you didn't answer, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. "scott trusted you," you said, your voice laced with venom. "he believed in you, and you betrayed him." your nails dug into his shoulders, drawing a hiss from his lips. "you didn't just hurt him," you continued, "you hurt all of us. stiles, malia, kira, everyone."

theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips tightening. "you're not exactly innocent, either," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "you've killed, you've lied, you've done things you're not proud of." he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "we're not so different, you and i."

you flinched at his words, the truth of them stinging like the cold air outside. but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "i've never betrayed my pack," you snarled, your wolf's eyes flashing in the darkness. "i've never pretended to be someone's friend just to stab them in the back."

his eyes searched yours, the steel blues of his irises shimmering with a hint of something that might have been understanding. "maybe not," he said, his voice low. "but you've killed." his words were a challenge, a reminder of the beast that lurked within you both.

you felt your fangs elongate, the rage bubbling up inside you. "that's different," you snarled. "i've never done it out of spite." theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. "semantics," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "we're all just trying to survive in this messed up world."

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "maybe," you conceded, the anger in your voice fading. "but that doesn't mean we can't be better." you leaned in, your teeth grazing his neck, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath the skin. "prove it," you whispered again, your breath hot against his ear. theo's eyes flashed with something primal, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher.

"i'll prove it," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "just tell me what you want." the challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you. "i want you to show me," you breathed, your voice low and needy.

his hands slid further up, his thumbs brushing against the lacy fabric of your panties. you gasped as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, the cold air making you shiver. theo didn't miss a beat, his mouth moving to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. you felt his fangs graze your neck, a promise of what was to come.

his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers exploring the warm, wet heat of your cunt. you bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure through your body. he groaned, the sound sending vibrations through your chest. "you want this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "you want me."

you didn't deny it. the truth was, you did. you wanted him in a way that went beyond logic, beyond the hate and anger that had fueled you for so long. you moaned softly, the sound a confession that felt like a betrayal to your pack. your eyes narrowed as they met his, a silent challenge. theo's hand moved faster, his thumb circling your clit, and you bucked against him, desperate for more.

his other hand slid up your torso, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before deftly unclipping it. your breasts spilled out, the cool, conditioned air making your nipples tighten into peaks. he took one in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and you moaned, your nails digging into his back. the pain was a sweet release, mixing with the pleasure until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

his cock was hard against your thigh, and you could feel the throb of his desire matching the pulse of your own. your hands slid down his chest, his abs tightening under his shirt beneath your touch. your hand slid further, stroking him through his jeans. theo groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hand.

you broke the kiss, panting. "we can't do this here," you murmured, your voice thick with lust. "someone could see." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "the backseat," he said, his voice a rough growl. "it's more private."

you nodded, the desire to feel him inside you overwhelming. you climbed off his lap and into the backseat, the cold leather sending a shiver down your spine. theo followed, his movements fluid and predatory. the dome light cast a soft glow over the cramped space, highlighting the stark lines of his face and the bulge in his jeans.

once there, he didn't waste any time. he yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the tapestry of scars that mapped his chest and abs. you took in the sight, a mix of anger and desire churning in your stomach. his eyes never left yours as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of the zipper echoing through the truck.

his hand found yours, guiding it to his cock. you felt the heat of him, the steel-like hardness that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. you stroked him through his boxers, feeling him throb in your grip. his eyes fell closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

you leaned in, your mouth capturing his, your tongues dancing in a fierce battle of passion and anger. as you kissed, your hand worked faster, the friction driving him wild. his hips bucked up, his cock straining against the fabric. you could feel the tension in his body, the tight coil of desire that matched your own.

theo's hand slid down, his fingers finding your wetness again. you gasped into his mouth as he slid a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced touch. your hips moved in sync with his hand, the pleasure building, the anger fading into the background. he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your cheek. "tell me again that you want this," he whispered, his voice a desperate plea.

you bit back a retort, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. "i don't have to tell you anything," you said, your voice filled with snark. "you can feel it." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "but i want to hear it," he said, his voice a dark caress. "i want to know that you're not just letting me fuck you because you're mad at me."

you didn't respond, the anger and lust inside you fighting for dominance. but as his hand moved faster, his finger sliding in and out of you, you couldn't hold back. "yes," you moaned, the word torn from your throat. "yes, i want this." it was a declaration, a surrender, and a challenge all rolled into one.

theo's eyes flashed with triumph, his hand moving faster. you could feel yourself climbing, the pressure building. your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red. "good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "now, let's make this interesting."

he pulled away, his hand leaving you feeling empty and desperate. you watched as he shucked his boxers, his cock springing free. it was thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. "now, spread your legs," he said, his smile predatory.

you couldn't help the snarl that curled your lips. "you think you can just fuck your way into my good graces?" you spat, your anger a living thing that thrummed through your veins. theo's eyes glinted with amusement. "i'm not looking for your good graces," he said, his voice low and seductive. "just your body."

his words were like a slap in the face, and you felt the anger bubble up again. "fine," you said, your voice filled with spite. "you want to fuck me like a whore in the back of your truck? go ahead." you leaned back, watching him with a challenge in your eyes. "but it won't change anything between us."

theo's expression darkened, the playfulness draining from his features. "you think you're so high and mighty," he murmured, his voice a dangerous growl. "but you're just as much a monster as I am." he leaned over you, his cock brushing against your thigh. "i'm not looking for forgiveness," he said, his voice a low snarl. "i'm looking for a way to show you that i'm not the same person who hurt scott."

you met his gaze, your eyes flashing with defiance. "then prove it," you whispered, your voice a challenge. "make me believe you're not the same asshole who tried to kill my friends." theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to your neck. "i will," he said, his voice a promise.

you leaned up, your teeth bared, and sank them into his shoulder. the taste of his skin was intoxicating, the coppery tang of his blood mixing with the scent of his arousal. he groaned, his grip on your neck tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're just as much of a monster as i am," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "you can't deny it."

you pulled back, licking the blood from your teeth. "i'm not a monster," you hissed, the denial a lie that even you didn't believe. your wolf was close to the surface, eager to claim what was yours. "but if you want to play this game," you continued, your voice a seductive purr, "i'll play."

theo's eyes flashed with excitement, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, and you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your throat.

his hand slammed into the seat beside you, the leather squeaking in protest. "you're going to scream my name," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you're going to come so hard you'll forget you ever hated me." your anger flared, but it was quickly swallowed by the need that pulsed through you. "you wish," you murmured, your voice a challenge.

his cock slid into you, the sensation of fullness making you gasp. theo's eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of weakness. you clenched around him, your body fighting for control even as your orgasm built. "fuck you," you breathed, your voice tight with need. "you're not going to win this."

his thrusts grew harder, more demanding. "we'll see about that," he murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw. "you're already losing it." you bit back a moan, your nails digging into his back. "you think this means something?" you ground out, your hips moving to meet his. "i'm just using you."

theo's smile was pure arrogance. "keep telling yourself that," he said, his voice thick with pleasure. "but your body's telling a different story." his fingers found your clit, rubbing it with a merciless precision that had you gasping for breath. "you're going to come for me," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're going to scream my name."

you clenched your jaw, your eyes squeezed shut. the pressure inside you was unbearable, a maelstrom of pleasure and anger. "never," you gritted out, your voice strained. but your body had other plans. with each thrust, with each caress of his thumb, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. your nails dug into his back, drawing blood, but he didn't flinch. "you're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "you're going to come for me."

you could feel it, the wave building, the inevitable climax that washed over you despite your resistance. "fuck," you moaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and despair. your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body spasming around his cock. you screamed his name, the sound echoing through the clearing. your claws raked down his back, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. theo's eyes went wild, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "yes," he hissed, his voice a mix of triumph and desire. "you're mine."

his cock twitched inside you, and you could feel his own orgasm approaching. "no," you panted, your voice a mix of anger and pleasure. "i'm no one's." but your words were lost in the moment, the truth of them buried beneath the passion that consumed you both. his teeth sank into your shoulder, the pain a sweet release that only served to intensify your pleasure.

theo's hand tightened around your neck once more as his hips slammed into yours, and you felt yourself go over the edge. your pussy spasmed around him, your juices flooding his cock as you squirted with the force of your climax. "theo," you screamed, the sound a mix of ecstasy and anger. your claws raked down his back, leaving deep furrows in his skin. he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.

his thrusts grew erratic, his own orgasm close. you could feel the tension in his body, the desperation in his eyes as he chased his release. "that's it," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "let go for me." you clenched around him, your nails digging deeper, drawing more blood. the previous wounds you had inflicted on him were gone, healed by his supernatural powers. the pain was a sweet release, a reminder of the control you had in this moment.

his abs were slick with your juices, the muscles tensing and releasing with each powerful stroke. his cock was buried deep inside you, the heat of his seed mixing with the cold anger that still thrummed through your veins. "you're going to come for me," he growled, his teeth grazing your neck. "say it."

you bit your lip, your body already on the edge of your third climax. "no," you whispered, the word a desperate lie. theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. his thumb flicked over your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "you can't lie to me," he murmured, his voice a dark challenge. "not when you're like this."

his teeth sank into your neck again, the pain mixing with the pleasure that was already threatening to overwhelm you. "no," you whimpered, your body arching into his touch. "i can't." but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the beginnings of the orgasm coil in your belly. "yes, you can," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr.

his thumb found your clit again, his touch relentless. you could feel the tension building, the pressure that had only just subsided starting to swell once more. his smile was feral, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ""just let go." he said, his voice a dark whisper. his thumb circled your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you. your body was already responding, the muscles in your stomach tightening with the promise of another release. "i can't," you gasped, your voice weak with the effort of resisting. "i can't."

but your body had other plans. as his thumb worked its magic, you felt the tension coil within you once more. your hips moved of their own accord, riding the wave of pleasure that was building. "you're so close," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "just let it happen." you bit your lip, trying to hold back the inevitable, but it was no use. the sensation was too intense, too overwhelming.

you came again, your body shuddering with the force of it. theo's eyes never left yours, his smile one of victory. "you see?" he whispered, his voice a caress. "you want this as much as i do." your anger flared, but it was dulled by the aftermath of your climax. "it doesn't mean anything," you murmured, your voice weak. "it's just sex."

his eyes searched yours, the smugness fading. "is that all you think it is?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "just sex?" you didn't answer, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions inside you. "that's all it is," you said finally, your voice firm. "we're enemies."

his grip on your neck loosened, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "are we?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "after this?" you pushed him away, your chest heaving with the effort of maintaining your composure. "yes," you said, your voice a growl. "we are."

theo pulled out of you, his cock slick with your juices. the sight made you feel a mix of revulsion and desire that had you clenching your fists. "fine," he said, his voice tight with disappointment. "but remember this moment." he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "remember how good it felt to be with me."

you jerked away, your eyes flashing with anger. "i'll remember it," you spat, "as the night i fucked the enemy." theo's smile was cold, his eyes hard. "you can call it what you want," he said, "but i'll be thinking of it as the night i claimed you." he slammed the door behind him as he climbed out of the truck, leaving you to gather your scattered clothing.

you pulled on your underwear and skirt, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. the taste of his blood lingered on your tongue, a bitter reminder of the power he held over you. "this doesn't change anything," you murmured to the empty truck, your voice shaking with the effort of convincing yourself.

as you slammed the door shut behind you, the swealtering night air hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you back to reality. you stumbled away from the truck, your legs unsteady. the forest loomed around you, the trees whispering secrets that you didn't want to hear. your eyes searched the darkness, looking for anything that could distract you from the mess you'd just made.

theo leaned against the truck, his eyes on you. "going somewhere?" he asked, his voice mocking. you whirled around, your fists clenched. "don't," you warned, your voice low and dangerous. "just don't."

his smile was cold, his eyes assessing. "i'll see you around, then," he said, his tone light. with that, he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. the headlights flared to life, illuminating the clearing. you watched as he drove away, the red taillights fading into the darkness.

you turned and began the long walk home, the hot air doing little to cool the heat of anger and desire that still coursed through your veins. the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the forest floor. the trees whispered secrets that you didn't want to hear, the sounds of the night taunting you with every step.

taglist (sorry i didn't ask if you wanted to be tagged, please lmk if you want me to remove you!): @fhaf123, @belovedbastardremus, @aureliaviolet3, @oh--its-just-me

edited 8.19.24

[callme-holly]

I NEED I NEED a sweet soft domestic dallas. i need it. i crave it. idc if its out of character. i live, breathe, eat, sleep, a cute soft dallas winston. so if u will, please and thank you write dallas with fem reader where she needs picked up from her house bc her parents are kicking her our OR bc they are fighting and she doesn’t wanna be there (you choose!) and dallas is teeth rotting sweet and soft with her.

ilysm!!!❤️🙏🏼

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚/𝐧 : IM LOVING THIS PLEASE GIVE ME MORE SWEET REQUESTS LOVE Y'ALL

The familiar rumble of an engine pulls you from your thoughts, cutting through the muffled yelling coming from the house behind you as it rolls to a stop in front of your gate. It’s sleek red paintwork in scratch and dented in places, and one of the headlights is out, but you’re relieved to see it all the same. 

Before you can process what’s happening, you’re already on your feet, moving instinctively. You jog across the front yard, ignoring the way your heart pounds and the blood rushes in your ears, not stopping until you collide with Dallas, tucking yourself into his chest the second he steps out of the car. 

He grunts a little in surprise but wraps his arms around you anyway, holding you steady as you catch your breath.

“You called?” He mumbles, his voice husky and rough with sleep, and you’d almost feel bad for waking him if you didn’t need him as much as you do now. Almost. You pull away enough so that you can look up at him, searching his features for any sign of annoyance or irritation, but strangely, you find nothing but fondness and what looks like it could be concern. 

“Yeah… They’re fighting again. Didn’t want to be in the house.” 

Dallas nods in understanding, squeezing you a fraction tighter before letting go completely, exposing you to the biting chill of winter once more. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t question why your parents are fighting or how long you've been sitting out of the porch, just waiting. Instead, he bundles you into the car, closing the door for you and going around to climb into the driver's side. You watch as he adjusts his seatbelt, something he only ever seems to do when you're riding with him, then he turns the key and the car roars to life, pulling away from the curb and speeding down the street. 

The heater is broken again if the cold air inside the vehicle is anything to go by, and you’d almost go as far as saying it was warmer outside than in here. The windows are fogged over, making it near impossible to see anything outside, everything passing in a muted blur, and while you know the roads like the back of your hand, you feel strangely lost in that moment.

“They’ll be back to normal again tomorrow,” Dallas says suddenly, startling you and bringing you back to the chilling interior of the car. His eyes are focused steadily on the road, but the way he clenches the wheel tells you everything he needs to know: he’s angry for you, angry that all your parents seem to do is yell and scream and tear you down with words that aren't even meant for you but still hurt you in a way you wouldn’t think possible. 

“I know,” you tell him quietly, letting your head rest against the cool glass of the window, letting out a long breath. “I just… I don’t know.” 

There is silence for some time after that, and you watch the flicker of colour and lights streak by outside the misty window; the quiet hum of the engine and shifting gears are the only sounds besides the thud of your heart in your chest. Dallas’ hand comes to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing back and forth in a gentle manner that nobody would think him capable of managing. It's soothing and calming, a reminder that he’s there, and you’re safe, that everything will sort itself out for better or for worse. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” His voice has softened considerably, and he almost doesn’t sound like himself—too tender and kind. It doesn’t suit him, not at all, but you find it nice all the same.

“How do you know?” You glance over at him, barely turning your head, your movements growing lazy as the exhaustion takes over, your limbs growing heavy, and your mind as hazy as the fog steaming the windshield. 

Dallas shrugs, swallowing heavily. “Because you got me. And I won't let anything’ happen to you. Not without a fight.” 

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, and butterflies stir in your stomach, fluttering wildly. He smiles at you, warm and genuine, and you can’t help but return it, watching the way his eyes crinkle slightly in the corners, his face lighting up in a way it very rarely does. 

A warmth settles around you, one that dashes away the freezing cold settling in your bones, and you don’t bother fighting it, content to let it engulf you, too mesmerized by the lingering calm expression on his face to care. 

He’s got you, and you’re safe as long as you’re with him.

[daeniradraconis]

Hi love, saw that you were taking some requests! If you feel comfortable would you be able to do something were the reader has an ed and one of the Hughes brothers helps her through it. I have been in recovery for almost 5 months now and it has been very challenging yet extremely rewarding to see my body get back to being healthy. Thank you!

Hi love,

First of all, thank you so much for requesting this. I just want to say how incredibly proud I am of you—five months in recovery is amazing, and I’m so happy to hear you’re feeling better. That’s such a huge accomplishment!

I chose Jack for this story, and I hope you’ll like it. I kept it short but made sure the ending is extra sweet. Sending you lots of love! 💗 For more fun: masterlist

---

Jack’s Recipe for Love

The road trip had been exhausting. Jack’s body ached, his mind was fuzzy from long hours on buses and planes, and all he wanted was to get back home to you. He couldn’t wait to see your face, to just relax in the comfort of your place. But when he walked into the apartment, he immediately noticed something was off.

The house was quieter than usual. No music or laughter filled the air. The lights were dim, and the TV was playing softly in the background—muted. As Jack dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, something caught his eye: your laptop was open on your desk.

He frowned and walked over to it, his curiosity getting the better of him. On the screen, he saw a search engine filled with articles and support forums about eating disorders. His stomach dropped, his pulse quickened. His heart pounded in his chest as he closed the laptop.

No.

He didn’t want to believe it, but the signs had been there for weeks—maybe longer. The weight loss, the way you had withdrawn, the quiet days when you seemed so exhausted but wouldn’t talk about why. Jack had always chalked it up to stress or maybe a bad cold. But now? Now he knew. It was worse than he could’ve ever imagined.

His hands shook as he stood there for a moment, processing. He couldn’t stay still. He had to find you. He had to talk to you.

Jack’s eyes scanned the apartment, searching. He walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, where he could hear the faint sound of retching. His heart stopped in his chest.

No, no, no.

He flung open the door without thinking. There you were, kneeling in front of the toilet, your body trembling with the aftermath of what you’d been hiding for so long. You looked up at him, startled, your eyes wide with guilt and fear.

“Jack…” Your voice was weak, breaking with shame.

Jack stood frozen for a second, shock hitting him like a cold wave. His mind scrambled, trying to process what he had just walked into, what he had just confirmed.

“I—I saw the laptop,” he said, his voice sharp. He was trying to keep his composure, but anger was bubbling up, sharp and painful. “I saw what you were reading. About eating disorders. About… this.” His voice cracked as his gaze fell to you, the reality sinking in. “And you didn’t think you could tell me? You didn’t think I’d notice? I’m your boyfriend, Y/N! I’m supposed to be the one you turn to when you’re struggling. I should’ve been the one you came to.”

His chest heaved with frustration, and for a moment, all he could feel was that raw anger, that feeling of being shut out. Jack had seen the signs, but the fact that you’d kept it a secret—didn’t trust him enough to open up about it—hit him harder than he could have imagined.

You flinched, pulling your arms around yourself like you were trying to protect your fragile heart from his words. “I—I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t want you to get mad—”

“Mad?” Jack’s voice was louder now, his words tumbling out in a burst of emotion. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad that you didn’t trust me. That you felt like you had to go through this alone. I’m angry because I care about you so much, and I didn’t know it was this bad.” His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this from me? I could’ve helped you! We could’ve figured this out together.”

You couldn’t look at him, your head bowed in shame. The tears came quickly, stinging your eyes, your chest tight with guilt. You wanted to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. The fear of being a burden, of feeling weak—it had consumed you for so long that now you didn’t know how to fix it, how to make it right.

Jack’s breath came fast as he took a step back, running his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. His emotions were too much, too overwhelming. He was hurt, confused, angry—and yet, underneath it all, he was scared. Scared that you weren’t okay. Scared that this might be something you couldn’t fix.

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything heavy between you. Jack took a deep breath, his voice quieter now, a soft tremor still running through it. “Y/N… I’m not angry with you. I just—” He ran a hand over his face, trying to collect himself. “I just want to help you. I don’t want you to keep this from me anymore.”

You swallowed hard, the tears still falling. “I was scared… scared you’d think I was weak. Or that you’d leave. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Jack’s face softened at your words, the anger dissipating as his heart broke for you. He stepped closer, gently cupping your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that fell freely. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m not leaving you.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You don’t have to fight this alone anymore. But you need help. You need to get help.”

You trembled in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. You had always tried to carry this burden alone, thinking you could handle it on your own, but now, you felt the truth hit you—you couldn’t. You didn’t want to anymore.

“I don’t know where to start, Jack,” you whispered, the exhaustion in your voice unmistakable.

Jack pulled you into his chest, his arms holding you tighter than ever. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “Together. You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to be.”

The anger had faded, but the fear still lingered in the pit of his stomach. Jack didn’t know how long it would take for you to heal, but he would be right there, supporting you every step of the way. He wasn’t going to let you fight this alone.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N,” he whispered. “But you’ve got to let me in. You’ve got to let me help.”

You nodded against his chest, your body shaking with a mixture of relief and fear. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe, with Jack by your side, you could start to heal.

---

It had been a few months since Jack had found out about your struggles, and while things were still a work in progress, he was showing up for you every step of the way. You’d made so much progress together, with him always by your side to make sure you were eating properly, resting, and feeling loved. But tonight, things were different.

Jack had decided to take his bulking diet seriously. Or at least, that’s what he said. He was eating enough protein to feed a small army, taking cooking classes, and had stocked the kitchen with every kind of supplement and spice known to man. There was just one problem: Jack was terrible at cooking.

Tonight, Nico Hischier, your close friend and Jack’s teammate—and captain of the New Jersey Devils—was coming over to hang out. He had no idea what he was walking into.

When you opened the door, Nico greeted you with his usual relaxed smile. “Hey, good to see you,” he said, stepping inside and shrugging off his jacket. “Jack said he’s making dinner tonight?”

You grinned, holding back a laugh. “Oh, yeah. And not just any dinner. He’s apparently a full-on chef now.”

Nico shot you a skeptical look as he toed off his shoes. “There’s no way. Jack’s cooking skills are like... scrambled eggs and burnt toast.”

You giggled, looping your arm through his as you guided him toward the kitchen. “I’m telling you, prepare to be shocked.”

As soon as you entered, you were hit with the warm, rich smell of garlic and herbs. Jack was standing at the stove, confidently stirring something in a pan. The sight alone was almost unbelievable. There were no messes, no frantic scrambling—just a focused Jack Hughes, actually cooking.

Nico came to a halt beside you. His eyebrows shot up. “No way.”

Jack turned his head, flashing a proud grin. “What’s up, Nico? I told you I was cooking.”

Nico pointed at him. “No, no, no. There’s no way you made this.” He sniffed the air. “This smells good.”

Jack smirked. “I take offense to your doubt. I’m serious about bulking up. Can’t be eating junk food all the time. And I told you about the cooking classes.”

You leaned against the counter, folding your arms with an amused smile. "I’ve had to endure weeks of him sending Quinn and Luke pictures of his protein pancakes. He was so proud.”

Jack puffed out his chest. “They needed to see I was a natural talent.”

You and Nico exchanged a knowing look, both silently agreeing not to burst his bubble.

Shaking your head fondly, you rubbed Jack’s bare arm and murmured, “I’m gonna grab a sweater. It’s chilly.”

Jack glanced at you briefly, his focus still half on the food. “Want me to grab you one?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I got it.”

With that, you turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving Nico behind in the kitchen with Jack.

As you pulled your sweater over your head and started making your way back, you heard Nico’s voice from the kitchen.

“So it’s not about bulking at all?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

You slowed your steps, your brows furrowing.

Jack let out a sigh. “No. I mean, yeah, I need to eat right, but that’s not why I started all this.”

Your heart thumped as you stopped just outside the kitchen, hidden from view.

“I did it for her,” Jack admitted, his voice softer now. “I figured... if I could get better at cooking, I could take care of her. She’s been struggling with eating, and I just wanted to make sure she didn’t have to stress about it. I thought if I made it look like I was just focused on my own diet, she wouldn’t realize I was actually doing it for her.”

You felt your throat tighten.

Jack exhaled, his voice laced with something deep—love, care, maybe even a little frustration at how much he wanted to help. “She hates asking for help. And I get it. But I want to be there for her. If cooking means I can make things even a little bit easier for her, then I’ll do it. I’d do anything for her.”

There was a beat of silence before Nico let out a low whistle. “Damn, Jack.” Then, after a pause, he added, “That’s actually... really sweet, man.”

Jack huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, well. Don’t tell her that. She’ll make fun of me.”

That was all you needed to hear.

Without thinking, you rushed into the kitchen, straight toward Jack.

He barely had time to react before you launched yourself into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. “Whoa—” Jack stumbled back slightly, catching you with ease. “What’s this for?”

You buried your face in his shoulder, squeezing him. “I love you,” you whispered.

Jack stilled for a moment before his arms tightened around you. His voice was softer now, laced with warmth. “You heard all that, huh?”

Nico, now leaning against the counter with an amused expression, popped a piece of chicken into his mouth. “Oh yeah, she heard everything.”

Jack groaned playfully. “Great. So much for keeping my tough guy image.”

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his cheek.

Jack’s blue eyes softened as he smiled, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, your eyes misty. “Yeah. I do.”

He kissed you then—soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world. His hands slid over your back, holding you close, as if reassuring himself that you were right there with him.

“Alright, alright,” Nico groaned dramatically. “This is cute and all, but I’m starving. Can we eat before I die?”

You and Jack both laughed as he pulled you closer, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead before turning back to the stove.

Jack grinned, stirring the pan. “Fine. But just so you know, Nico, I expect glowing reviews of my cooking skills.”

Nico smirked. “We’ll see, Hughes. If I survive, I’ll let you know.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around Jack from behind, resting your cheek against his back as he finished cooking. You felt safe. Loved.

[theflagscene]

Think about how the Jack and Joker kiss was such a long time coming not just for fans, but for Yin and War as well.

Which is why I think they’re so snappy—not in a bad way, they’re protective of their show—with people complaining on Twitter. Consider, they worked together in 2020 during En of Love, where their own 4 episode story was the most popular out of all three story arcs. So popular in fact that fans wanted a more flushed out version of Mark and Vee’s story, but it’s not until two years later that they get to work together again, only they are playing the same characters, telling the same story, even saying the same same dialogue! Now, don’t get me wrong, Love Mechanics was a fair upgrade from the mini series. But after wanting to work together again for so long, they were just playing Mark and Vee again, how completely dull for them.

So they do what many Thai BL actors do, they go on tour together, at least that’s something. And damn if the mini heist YouTube video they make for it doesn’t do numbers! The fans want more of them, more of that! Hell they want more themselves, yet their—at the time—company wouldn’t give them roles. So screw it, they take a chance and don’t renew their contracts and become independent artists. That doesn’t always go well, and it’s a lot of hard work to get parts without a company trying to lock actors into years long contracts.

So they go full Saint and just decide to make what they wanna make on their own terms with their own money, Yin sold his damn car to help fund the series so they didn’t have to cave to corporate shilling of drinks and beauty products. It takes years to get a script hammered out, actors willing to take a chance working with them, editors, directors, all of it. And all of those people need to be paid, hell, they need to be paid!

But it’s here now, their real proper second series together, fresh and new after four—almost five—years! And what’s more, it’s doing great, amazing even. Now they have fancons in the work and tv interviews and magazines cover shoots (freaking Vogue Thailand!?), and so many companies reaching out wanting to invest in them. The management at Rookie Thailand is no doubt kicking themselves for not putting more faith in these men. They had the fans, they had the passion for the work and what’s more, they had each other. When you find that type of friendship, you fight for it, and that’s what they did to be able to make Jack & Joker. Yin and War put their blood, sweat and tears in their series, not to mention their money and reputations as well.

So when Jack and Joke finally kissed? Yeah, the chemistry was still there, was never not there. But those two, they had a point to prove and it was proven with that damn kiss.

Gifs snagged from @wanderlust-in-my-soul fantastic post—go reblog it—since after 25 minutes of scrolling it’s clear the episode gifs are too new to show up in the gif search engine lol.

[glitter-stained]

Yk I genuinely believe that Jason found out about Mia's backstory by accident. Like, obviously since Jason's role in Seeing Red is to be a dark reflection to a Mia-centric arc, the question of "why did he decide to focus/ project onto Mia specifically" is absurd on a doylist level. Like, Jason is projecting on Mia because Winick wrote Jason as "the bad ending version of Mia's story".

But actually, on a watsonian level, why did Jason decide to focus on Mia? There is, above the surface, no real link between Jason and Mia. There's more logic to Jason's motivation when he attacked Tim at Titan Tower than attacking Mia.

So here's how I imagine it going.

Jason: *opens a google search engine :* So what's everyone been up to during my leave of absence? Oh huh, Queen's been mayor of his city? Funny guy. Legalised gay marriage, cool, good for them. Wait hold on he has a new Speedy who looked to be on the older side of teenage-hood when he debuted? Let's see, well, he has a new foster daughter apparently... Mia Dearden, must be her. Shit, we're the same age; he took her in when she was fifteen? Goddamn, those idiots never learn. What do they say about her? Oh looks like she gave a cool speech that made the highschool newspap-what the fuck.

And this is my version of how Jason "learns" about Mia's backstory (with some holes filled with projection and assumptions) and hardcore projects onto her and try to get her to join him and make her see that they're the same. Obviously he has access to his own computer, but I like to imagine him sitting in the public library at the library computer reading off google and his eyes just widening in disbelief as he reads and muttering a little stream of "no way no way no way" before getting up to leave in a frenzy being like I need to start scheming right now!!!!

+Bonus picture of Jason finding out like three facts about Mia on the library computer:

[georgiapeach30513]

I Can See You

Summary:  Steve was new to this modern world.  And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home.  Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees.  You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong

Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2K 

Steve Rogers Masterlist

“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her.  “What?  Dating is normal.  What do you have against dating?”

“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”

“I get it.  The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing?  Look, Google is your friend.  I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women.  Guess what, Steve?  Some even wear the clothes, too.  Google is your friend.”

Google is your friend.  A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day.  Google is a friend.  Was a friend?  How could a search engine be a friend?  How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times.  How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?

Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone.  Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people.  But there was a Google on there.  Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met.  They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for.  Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine.  Nothing ever made sense in this time.  People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult.  And for what reason?  But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?

What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…

Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip.  Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman.  Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.

He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it.  Taking him straight to your website.  Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips.  Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body.  A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.

Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them.  Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath.  His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body.  He knew what he was going to get.  You.  Every part of you.  Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.

Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room.  He wants to see it all.  It was like you catered to just him.  What could thirty dollars a month hurt.  He would get to wake up to see you.  Go to bed stroking his cock.  It wouldn’t hurt.  It wouldn't be a distraction.  This is what he needed.

He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy?  Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you.  You are a dirty girl.  Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.

A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment.  What would you like me to call you?’

He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife.  ‘Captain.’

‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’

‘Yes.  Brand new.’

‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video.  What would you like to see, Captain?  Whatever it is you want.  For your eyes only.’

‘How often do I get private videos?’

‘First one is free.’

‘I want one every morning and evening.’

‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words.  He just wishes he could hear your voice.  ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations.  How does that sound, big boy?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you hard right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to see my pussy?  I can show you what toys I have.’

‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was.  Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.

“Which will it be, Captain?  Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you?  I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy.  They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.  

“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about.  The red white and blue one.  With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.

“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him.  Moving over to something Steve had early heard about.  A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end.  “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”

“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.

“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod.  “Who would you share me with?”

“A friend.  He…he’d get your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass.  You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him.  Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him.  “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.  

He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release.  “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view.  Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.

“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully.  Steve didn’t want slow.  Steve wanted to fuck you.  This would work for now.  But…

“No.  Not slow.  Put…I want to see the shield.”

“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits.  Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.  

“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees.  He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock.  It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open.  A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.  

Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was.  That shield in your ass.  “Fuck yourself.  And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin.  Moving over the toy.

“I hear you, Captain.  How good does my pussy feel?”

“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock.  Why had he neglected to do this for so long.  “My pussy.”

“Yes, Captain.  This pussy is all yours.”

“Mine.”

“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”

It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass.  Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you.  “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”

He’d feel better if that was his actual cock.  “Captain, you’re so deep.”

That cock was nothing to Steve’s size.  He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth.  “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.

“Oops,” giggling.  The giggles.  The mess.  “I made such a mess for you, Captain.  You got me so wet.”

“Yeah.  Go harder.  Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast.  Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor.  He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut.  Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.  

Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more.  “Captain!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock.  He was almost there.  Could practically feel your walls clench around him.

“Captain!”

“I know.  Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions.  Wishing that he could choke you in that moment.  There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work.  But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.  

“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess.  With your tongue,” you want to scream.  That is the hottest shit you have ever heard.  Demanding that you clean up your own mess.  “I’d have someone help you.”

“You want someone to come play with me?”

“Yeah, but they’ll leave.  You have to let your Captain take care of you.”

“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”

“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal.  His.  All.  His.

——

Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long.  There were roses on the table.  A dozen roses from the looks of it.  Steve was becoming steadily more needy.  Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients.  It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.

Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded.  You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in.  This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it.  And now the roses.

Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment.  They were only from one person.  Him.  Captain.  The hall was too quiet.  Just as quiet as your home.  It was like you were the only one in the room.  In the building.

“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall.  An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you.  Clean.  Fresh.  It was him.  

“Steve?” You tremble.  Ready to bolt.  Anywhere but here.  You had to cut him off.  The money wasn’t even that good.  He had lost his mind.

“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently.  Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.  

“Honey, I’m home.  And I expect you to say my name properly.  I can’t have you available to any other men.  Your site has been taken down.  Your apartment will be swept.  All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now.  It’ll be like you never existed.  Your new life starts today.  And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me.  Bear my children, and live to serve me.  Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”

His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no.  “Say, thank you, my Captain.”

“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse.  And he knows it.  With one  maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway.  No one will ever remember you.  No one will ever rescue you.  You are now his.  And he has no intention of letting you go.

Now…thank him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19

WC: 2134, Masterpost

Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.

“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.

“No.”

Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.

“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”

Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”

“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.

“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”

Killed.

Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.

“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”

John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.

“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”

God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.

“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.

Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”

“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”

Wally’s mind spins.

“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”

He searches back through his memories of Danny.

“Yes.”

It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.

“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”

Oh. That made so much sense.

“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.

“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.

“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”

Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.

It breaks Wally’s heart.

“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”

Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”

“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.

“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”

“They don’t know—”

“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”

Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”

The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”

“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”

“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”

With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.

Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.

“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.

“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”

“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.

Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”

“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”

“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”

“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”

Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”

“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.

“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”

After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”

“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”

John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”

“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”

More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”

“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.

“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”

“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.

“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”

“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”

Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”

“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“Gone. People remember now.”

Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.

“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”

“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.

“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”

Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”

“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”

“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”

Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”

Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.

“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.

“What? Now?” Dick hisses.

Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”

“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”

The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.

“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”

Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip

Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”

Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”

Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.

“Danny!”

Danny who’s still here and alive.

Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.

“Yes?”

---

AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

[creature-wizard]

Sealioning 101

So if you don't already know, "sealioning" is a term for a type of bad faith behavior where someone repeatedly asks for information or evidence that they're not actually interested in. It's a form of trolling.

For example, a young earth creationist might go around saying something like, "Can anybody show me proof of evolution? I keep asking people, but no one will answer me."

Then well-meaning people come and and provide resources. The troll, who of course isn't actually interested in learning or changing their mind, will just keep acting like nobody's answering their question, and keep demanding answers. It's frustrating and exhausting.

A big sign that you're being sealioned is demanding information that's incredibly easy to find. Now of course, people sometimes genuinely just don't know where to find certain information that most of us take for granted, and sometimes people are just lazy and treat random Internet strangers like their personal butlers. (Having a pinned post with a FAQ will take care of most of these people, btw.)

What gives a sealion away is their refusal to accept and engage with provided resources, and their favorite lie, "I keep asking, but no one will answer me."

Think for a moment: how likely is it that someone went around asking a bunch of biologists or at least biology nerds for evidence of evolution, and no one gave them anything? Does it seem that likely that no one gave them any links or made any book recommendations? Does it seem likely that a bunch of people who really love talking about biology just suddenly clammed up around this person for no reason?

Trolls will sealion over anything, especially hot political topics. For example, they've been sealioning with JK Rowling's transphobia, asking for evidence that she ever said or did anything transphobic while claiming no one ever answers them when they ask. Trolls have been sealioning for Donald Trump for years now, pretending they just don't understand why people are so worked up over Trump, and that nobody they've asked will give them a real answer.

Again, ask yourself: how likely is it, really, that someone on Tumblr Dot Com can't find a single person who can tell them what these people have done and said that have so many people displeased with them? And do we think that this person who is supposedly soooo interested in seeing what all the fuss is about, never once tried Google or something?

Seems pretty unlikely, when you actually stop and think about it. In fact, it's a pretty obvious lie, because we know damn well that lots of people are more than happy to explain why they don't like Trump and Rowling, and any determined person could find the information they want in like five minutes on any search engine.

Sealioning is troll behavior. If someone is sealioning, they are a troll. It's that simple.

[annab-nana]

note: this is a blurb i wanted to write using a prompt from the winter wonderland sleepover because i wanted to add rooster to my masterlist.

prompt: “Don’t you ever do that again!”

warnings: not proofread, basically a rewrite of one of the scenes in top gun maverick but reader is taking maverick's place

❀ masterlist ❀

you first thought it was bad when rooster ran out of flares and you had to swoop in to cover him with your own. you then realized it got worse when you felt the impact of the missile slamming into your engine. it only continued to go downhill from there.

now, you were running through the snowy forest trying to get to rooster. you thought you'd lost him for a second earlier and your efforts had been for nothing when his fighter took a hit. however, relief soon found you when you saw his parachute. when you laid eyes on him, he was pulling off his parachute and beginning to bury it.

one second, you were filled with concern for him.

"are you okay?" you shouted as you ran closer to him.

"yeah, i'll manage."

the next second, you were angry.

your body showed no signs of slowing and you ran right into him with purpose, pushing him down.

he took off his helmet and looked at you incredulously. "what the hell?"

"what are you doing here?" you asked, your anger clear in your tone.

rooster had never felt more confused. "what am i doing here?"

"yes, what are you doing here? i didn't take that missile for you to be down here with me. you should be back on the carrier by now!" your eyes held a blazing fire that rooster had never seen before.

his brows dropped to a furrow as he tilted his head down a bit more to be at your eye level. "i saved your life."

"i saved your life," you challenged loudly, taking a step closer to him. "what the hell were you thinking?"

rooster inched closer as well, very much invading your personal space, but neither of you cared. "mav told us not to think!"

"i know!" you cried out, "why do you think i did that?!"

"i don't know, but don't you ever do that again!"

there was an intense moment between the two of you as you stared one another down. your breaths mingled together due to your proximity and your chests rose and fell quickly with them. both your eyes and his bounced between the others, each of you waiting for the other to do or say something.

it was ultimately you who broke the staring match.

it was like your body was acting before your brain could tell it what to do. you stepped the last little bit closer and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a sigh you hadn't realized you were holding in.

rooster wasted no time in circling his arms around your waist.

"you scared the shit out of me," you whispered, squeezing him a little tighter.

rooster's light chuckle made you feel a little bit better. "you scared the shit out of me first," he uttered before pulling back ever so slightly to look you in the eyes. "are you okay?"

"yeah," you tell him, trying to inspire confidence, though your voice doesn't match your intentions. you're scared and you know he is too, but you can't be scared right now. you both need to get back to the carrier. "so, any ideas on how to get out of here?"

"i was kind of hoping you had something," rooster commented, a small grin on his lips, "there's a reason your callsign is murdock. you're our daredevil. one of your crazy plans would be great right now."

a light laugh fell from your lips as you both pulled away fully from each other. your eyes search the trees around you while you wait for inspiration to strike. then, it hits you.

"if a crazy plan is what you want," you preface, reaching for rooster's arm to pull him in the direction you were going, "then a crazy plan is what you will get."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

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[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3

Bad Decisions [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: Making a bunch of bad decisions, you and Daryl find yourself in a dangerous situation...

Warnings: Daryl Dixon spin-off spoilers! usual TWD stuff, weapons, blood, walkers, angst, fluff, slight sexual harassment, Juno (Yes, he's a warning.), protective!Daryl, change of the series plot

Post Commonwealth/ Spin-Off series!

Word Count: 5,3k

a/n: I had a lot of fun to write this. I hope you guys like it, too.

Disclaimer: Some dialogue in this story isn't mine. I took it from the series, in order to create this story and to 'follow' the plot.

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Nothing?" You asked Daryl as he exited the small old, decaying building. He shook his head. "Nah. Ain't a drop of gas left in there." You ran your hands over your face; groaning. "Fuck."

You and Daryl had finally run out of gas entirely since days - or even weeks? And this had been the first gas station since miles...

You immediately felt Daryl's strong arms wrapping themselves around you. "We gonna find a way, I promise. Might try some old cars in that lil' village up ahead." You clung to him; nodding against his shoulder. "I know we will, it's just..." You swallowed hard. "We're so far from home, a-and... I miss our boys."

The archer pulled back from the hug; his eyes meeting yours. Guilt reflecting in the blue-grey irises. He chewed on his bottom lip. "'M sorry, sunshine. Tis my fault." You frowned; immediately cupping his stubbly cheeks. "Why would that be your fault?" You could see your man swallowing hard. "Shoulda never asked ya to accompany me. Should've let ya stay with our sons." Your expression softened at his words. "Daryl... Sweetie..." You started; pressing your forehead against his. "I would've come with you anyways. You'd have not even needed to ask me. Doing this; searching for your brother meant a lot to you - so it is important for me, too. This isn't your fault. We just have to find our way back home now." Reluctantly, Daryl nodded; accepting your 'statement'. "Yeah..." You gave him another soft smile, "Let's go." and pressed a sweet, gentle kiss on his lips.

You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulders, while Daryl started to push his bike. You quickly followed; going on the other side to help him. The archer gave you a sweet look; silently thanking you. "I miss 'em too, ya know..." He says after quite a few minutes in silence. His words touched your heart. "We'll get back to them and the others. I promise."

Said and done. After Daryl's bike was on the truck's cargo area, together with you and Daryl, the man started the engine and drove down the road. You sat beside Daryl; leaned against his side with his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The exhaustion from the past days and weeks crawled up on you; your bones heavy and aching. After walking day after day and trying to search for food and gas wasn't easy. Daryl felt the same. You could tell. You saw it on his face.

Just as Daryl wanted to answer something, the sound of an engine could be heard. There was a car approaching. You and Daryl exchanged a look; the car already pulling up behind you and him. You both stopped in your movements; subtly reaching for your weapons. Just in case...

The truck stopped. A man exited the vehicle; immediately lifting his hands in surrender. "Hey," he approached you slowly. "Need help, friends?" You and your husband exchanged another look; his eyes clouded with scepticism and mistrust. "Nah, we're good," Daryl answered; subtly rounding his bike and positioning himself close to you. Just in case...

"Where you two headed?" The stranger continued to question. To you, he didn't seem like a threat - for now, but Daryl clearly wasn't convinced. "We were headin' home," you answered this time. The man let out a small chuckle. "Home, huh? On a bike with no fuel?" "Why? Got some to spare?" Daryl shot back immediately. Another chuckle slipped past the stranger's lips. "Tha' depends," he started and pointed at Daryl's crossbow, which was attached to his bike. "You any good with that thing?" Before Daryl could answer, you stepped in front of your man; "Depends..." crossing your arms over your chest. "What you want us to do with it?" The strange man smiled at you, whereas Daryl was still on edge and quite tensed, but also trusted you in this. For you to make the right decision. "Walkers." "Walkers? Alright."

The stranger nodded and gestured at his old, rusty truck. "Load up the bike and we'll get goin'."

Closing your eyes for a long moment, you felt the soft breeze in your hair; thoughts wandering. "Hey... Ya alright?" Daryl's voice cut through the air then, causing you to reopen your eyes. "Yeah... Just tired... And thinking 'bout if I made the right decision... Trusting a stranger." "You'll never know tha', sunshine. We never did before." You nodded; fumbling nervously with your fingerless gloves. "I know, but... What do you think?" Daryl took a deep breath; pulling you closer. "It's a chance, right? We gotta give it a shot."

Then the strange man from earlier returned.

You drove quite a while until you reached your destination... An old gas station. The man exited the truck, while Daryl helped you down from the cargo area and unloading his bike. The archer's gaze immediately scanned his surroundings; looking out for possible threats. "Jus' grab a seat. We'll get started soon," the stranger announced as he walked towards the building. You and Daryl followed him; saw a lot of other men running around. Some of them were inside what looked like a steel cage; speaking a language which definitely wasn't English. You frowned and tried to listen closely. French. It sounded like French.

"C'mon," Daryl's gentle tug at your arm urged you to move on and follow him towards a bunch of old (car) seats; all lined up in a half-circle. Daryl took a seat - like the man told you; you sitting beside him. Four other men were already seated. Three of them older - probably in their early and mid fifties and one of them much younger. Probably not older than twenty. He held a what you assumed to be a picture in his hands; intensely looking at it. They were talking, but you couldn't exactly make out the words. Only that the group was mocking and teasing the young man.

Both, you and Daryl watched the scenes unfold; most likely thinking the same.

"Circle up! Come on, circle up, people!" He announced and everybody started to surround him; circling up. "Time is money! Come on! Let's go, let's go!" He waited until everybody's attention was fully on him, before he continued to speak. "Alright. Ground rules, fellas. Fighting will not be tolerated. Same goes with stealing or sexual deviancy of any kind. Keep your shit together." He paused and looked into the round. "No children will be accepted. Nor elderly or shorties. 5'4" is the cut off." "What do you want them for anyway?" Interrupted one of the older men, which sat on the seats a few meters beside you. "This is not your concern," answered the other man with grey hair, who stood right beside the stranger who found you. "One pint of ethanol is all you need to know."

A small discussion about the payment and some further information later, you and Daryl roamed the nearby woods for walkers. It was kinda a strange feeling to not kill them, but collect them like prisoners; lined up on a string. But neither you, nor Daryl cared. It was none of your business. All you wanted, was the promised gas. Yours and Daryl's clear advantage was that you made one hell of a team. After seventeen years of being a couple, you could work together blindly. Therefore, you 'hunted' almost twice as much walkers as the others. Well, the more the better.

Everybody was quite impressed as you brought the walkers back and handed them over. You and Daryl earned respectful glances, but also jealous ones.

After keeping a while an eye on Daryl and everything that happened around you, you decided it was time for a bit of fresh air.

Unfortunately was the amount of gas you got in return not enough and so it was soon decided that you were going to stay the night and collect some more walkers tomorrow.

"Go, get some sleep," you said to Daryl; nodding at one of the cots. "I'll keep watch. I don't trust all these people." The archer nodded, "Yeah, me neither..." and reached for your hand. "'R ya sure 'bout keepin' watch first? I know you're exhausted, sunshine, 'n I-" You shook your head and quickly interrupted him. "You're exhausted, too, sweetie. I'll be fine. Now get some sleep." Daryl chew on his bottom lip; just looking at you for several moments, before he nodded again. "Aight. Wake me if something's wrong." "'Course." He gave your hand a squeeze and let go; making his way to the cot.

It was cold. The starry and clear night sky above you. As you walked outside, you saw the group of three men from earlier sitting around a campfire; chatting and drinking. You only gave the a quick glance, before you turned to walk into the other direction. You came to stand beside an old pick-up and sat down on the cargo area; legs dangling in the air. Your gaze was directed into the sky; watching the stars shine and twinkle. You took a deep breath; thoughts wandering to Teddy and Marlo. You thoroughly hoped that they were okay. That everything at home was okay. You missed them terribly. Hence, you missed everybody terribly... You reminisced for quite a while; just listening to the crickets chirping their songs and the crackling of the fire - until your peace got disturbed...

"Hey, missy!" A voice called suddenly out to you; causing your head to snap into the direction of its origin. It was one of the older men... "What do you want?" You asked rather coldly. He didn't seem very kind. None of them did. He gave you a slimy grin. "Haven't seen such a beautiful creature in quite a long time." You frowned and sniffed. "I ask again. What do you want?" The man laughed. "If it weren't for all these prying eyes around us, I'd take you like a bitch in heat."

You were completely caught off guard by his straightforwardness. You blinked and suppressed the urge to gag at his words. "Excuse me?" You blurted out; still in disbelief. He chuckled and gave you a not very subtle once over. "You heard me, missy. Someone like you needs to be taken care of." You needed a moment to recover; certainly didn't see that coming.

Once you did, you felt the disgust and even slight anger course through your veins. You were a grown woman - not a sex object, neither a fuck toy. You stood up from where you sat and gave the man, who was still looking at you with lustful eyes, a dark, warning glare. "I'd rather not do that, if I were you," you spoke in a hushed, threatening voice. "In case you haven't noticed... I am married - and he takes perfect care of me. No need to worry. Therefore, I suggest you keep it in your pants and don't say something like that again. You'll regret it, believe me. My husband won't be so nice to you like I am now, so... Consider this as a warning," you literally snarled.

No fighting.

The man with grey hair and beard laughed; adjusting the baseball cap on his head. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, missy. The way I see it should be your 'husband' very careful in what he does... Or do I have to remind you of the rules?"

A deep frown formed on your forehead as his words echoed in your mind; the scenes from earlier unfolding in your memory and played in front of your eyes like a movie...

The man saw your reaction, of course and laughed again. "A little fun will no one notice, but a bloody nose..." He stated and gave you a wink, before returning to his friends at the campfire. You swallowed hard; troubled by what just happened and how you actually lost the verbal fight. It gave you a very uneasy feeling. Sure, you could fight and defend yourself. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that you'd have to defend yourself and most likely nobody beside Daryl would believe you what the man tried to do. And not knowing the consequences of breaking the rules wasn't exactly a benefit either... You also couldn't tell Daryl what happened. Knowing your husband like an open book, he would probably straight up lose his temper and beat the shit out of that man; his hot-headedness breaking through.

You just hoped the man wouldn't actually act on his threat.

The feeling of not being safe anymore joined the uneasiness and caused you to take the only way out you could think of...

You made your way back into the large - what you assumed what once was a workshop and headed straight for the cot your husband slept in. You squashed yourself on the small makeshift bed; cuddling against Daryl - who instinctively wrapped his arms around you with a soft grunt and held you close against his body. "Everythin' a'right, sunshine?" He mumbled; more asleep than awake. You nodded. "All good, sweetie. Keep on sleeping." You hated to lie to him, but what other choice did you have?

You immediately felt the uneasiness creep up on you again.

The next morning approached faster than you thought. Even when Daryl kept watch, you didn't get much sleep; always feeling watched. At some point you gave up and just decided to get up. The sun had barely risen, as you made your way out of the huge hall; looking for the archer. The yard was bustling with people already. A lot of them headed out to catch more walkers; others already came back with a bunch.

You found your man kneeling beside his bike; apparently checking on something. A smile grazed your lips as you approached him. "Good morning," you announced your presence; placing your hands on his broad shoulders. Daryl looked over his shoulder, before standing up. "Mornin', sunshine. Slept good?"

"No, not really." Daryl shook a few strands of chestnut brown hair out of his face; frowning. "Why? Everythin' a'right?" You felt his hand reaching for yours.

You swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, 's just..." As if on command, a loud voice cut through the air. "Hey, Juno! Move yer ass over here! The sexy chick arose from her sleeping beauty slumber." It was a man from the trio.

You gritted your teeth; cursing internally. Fuck.

Before you or Daryl could say something, Juno appeared and threw you another slimy grin. "Thought about my offer for a quick fuck?" Juno boldly said; ignoring Daryl entirely. He didn't give a flying fuck that your husband stood right beside you. And somehow, you had the feeling he did it on purpose... As if he wanted to see Daryl lose his shit and break the rules. Your raging thoughts got interrupted by the loud snarl coming undoubtedly from your man. "Wha' did ya just say, huh?" Alone by the sound of his voice, you could tell that he was already very tensed. "I said..." Juno started; taking a step closer. "I wanna screw your girl." Daryl's brain short-circuited; his protective instinct taking over. "You say tha' again and I'll cut yer fuckin' balls off!" The archer growled and took quick steps towards Juno. Luckily, you reacted fast and literally jumped in front of your husband, before he could reach the older man. "Daryl, stop!" Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you held him back. "Please! If you punch him now, you'll get in trouble!"

That one sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Daryl panted with rage. "I don care! He wants ta touch what's mine and I ain't havin' tha'!" You shook your head; frantically trying to calm him down, all the while Juno watched with a dirty smile on his face.

"He's not worth it, sweetie! Please! I-I don't want you to get in trouble! God knows what they'll do to you, so please..." The archer took another few deep breaths; gazing deeply in your eyes. But then he nodded - much to your sheer relief, "Aight." and directed his gaze on Juno; immediately moving to shield you with his body. "If ya touch 'er- No... If ya only look at 'er or say something like tha' again, I'll kill ya. I ain't lettin' you touch my wife. We clear?" Juno laughed. "Calm down, man. 'M just sayin'..." Daryl gave him a death glare and turned to walk away, in order to calm his raging nerves down. You were relieved; thinking that was it - but you underestimated Juno.

"Though, I bet it feels great havin' such a beauty wrapped 'round yerself."

Then he nodded at your husband. "Rule is rule. Take him away." And on Jones' command, the men who held Daryl in a death grip started to drag him away. Shock and fear struck your body like lightning; eyes widening. "No! Please, no! No!" You ran after them; trying to get to Daryl - who gave you a worried, sad and distraught gaze, but they easily shook you off. You were strong, but not strong enough to fight against five men alone.

Before you could even react had Daryl turned around, almost sprinted to the older man - and punched him right in the face. You could only witness in sheer horror, as Daryl knocked Juno to the ground; ready to beat the shit out of him. But before he could throw his bulky frame on the skinnier man came other men rushing towards them; pulling Daryl harshly away from Juno. Only seconds later appeared the man who picked you and Daryl off the road - the leader as you learned, Jones.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Juno lifted himself off the ground and wiped some blood off his nose. "That son of a bitch attacked me!" He immediately defended himself; pointing accusingly at Daryl. Jones turned to face your man; expression darkening. "What did I tell ya 'bout the rules? No fighting." That was the moment you woke from your state of shock. "That's a lie, Jones! Juno harassed me! Daryl only wanted to defend me! Please, you have to believe me!" The leader looked from you to Juno and back. A few moments of silence passed, in which the man was seemingly contemplating of what to do.

Daryl knew that fighting against Jones' orders would only cause more damage. Therefore he just accepted his fate; knowing that at least you were safe. Hopefully. He'd find his way back to you. He always did.

"Please! Don't! Don't take him away from me!" You were still fighting; watching with tears in your eyes how they handcuffed Daryl and loaded him in a van. It felt like a déjà-vu. All the times you had to watch somebody taking the man you loved away from you. And every time you were powerless.

Not anymore.

"Take me with you! Wherever you take him... I'm going, too. I won't leave my husband." You almost pleaded Jones'; standing in front of him with your hands lifted in surrender. The man gave you an incredulous look; clearly not wanting to do that. After all, you were innocent. You played by the rules. "Please..."

Jones took a deep breath, but nodded. "Load 'er up."

And they did.

Your breath was laboured. Fingers twitching nervously; hands cuffed behind your back. You didn't know where the vehicle was taking you. Your vision was sorely afflicted - thanks to the sack which had been draped over your head. All you knew was that you were in a different van than Daryl. After what felt like an eternity, the van finally stopped in his motion and no minute later got the doors ripped open. There were voices shouting something - but again you didn't understand them. French.

You had no time to dwell on the questions in your head, since you got rather harshly pulled to your feet and out of the vehicle. "Bouge ton cal! Allons, allons, allons!" ("Move your ass! Let's go, let's go, let's go!") You heard another male voice shout, before you got pushed forward; urged on to walk.

Turning left and right, you were brought further into the heart of the ship; passing by two cages, which were installed in the belly of the ship and also filled to the brim with walkers. But it were the signs which gave you chills... 'Fast' and 'Feed'. You swallowed hard.

After a few minutes of getting led to only God knows where, the sack got removed from your head - and what you then saw caused your eyes to almost pop out of your head. You were on a ship. On a fucking ship! And not just a little fisherman's boat - nu.uh! It looked like a former freighter!

You got once again dragged along by a strange man. Looking around anxiously, you searched for Daryl, but you couldn't see him. What you did saw, though, were dozens of cargo container. Some of them were open and revealed the horror inside. Labs and walkers. They were experimenting with walkers?! This realisation didn't make you feel better. Not in the slightest...

What did you and Daryl get yourselves into?

You could've cried in sheer relief.

You reached a cargo container with a steel wire door, which got opened for you to be thrown inside. The force of the shove was so strong, that you lost balance and fell to your knees; hitting the ground with a painful huff. The cage door shut closed and you heard a key turning in a lock.

"Y/N?" The gruff voice of your husband urged to your ears then. You looked up and saw him standing above you; frowning, shocked and with fresh blood dribbling from his lip.

Your words and gesture melted his heart; caused his expression to change again. "Sunshine..." You smiled up at him; gazing deeply into his beautiful eyes. The both of you were about to lean in for a kiss - despite the blood, of course, when your short moment of intimacy got harshly interrupted by a toe curling scream. You quickly let go of Daryl and stormed to the steel wire door; looking what was happening. It was already pitch black outside, but the ship you were on was brightly lid with flood lamps. Therefore, you had to witness with horror, how a man got thrown into one of the two walker pits. Your eyes widened in realisation. Feed.

"Daryl!" You panted and threw yourself immediately in his arms. He caught you with a grunt and held you close for a few moments, before he released you again. The frown on his face got replaced by worry, fear and frustration. "Whatcha doin' here?!" You swallowed hard; suppressing the tears. "I-I didn't want to lose you again. I've lost you too many times... And all the times you got taken away from me, I couldn't do something about it. This time I could."

Daryl sighed frustrated. "Goddammit, woman! Ya would've been safe there! Now you ain't - and I don know if 'm able to protect ya!" You quickly shook your head and cupped his cheeks in your hands. "I wouldn't have been safe there, sweetie... I'm only safe with you."

"O-Oh my gosh..." You felt Daryl's presence behind you; his arms wrapping around your middle and securing your back against his chest. A reassuring gesture. "I-Is this... going to happen to us, too?" Daryl didn't answer for a moment. "Daryl?" You turned your head to face him; seeing how he chew on his bottom lip. "Guess so, yeah..." He finally answered then; causing nervousness to rise within you once more. You took a deep breath and tried to keep a cool head. This wasn't the first hairy situation you two found yourselves in, so...

"Okay... How are we going to escape this hell?" A small smirk tugged at the corners of the archer's lips. That's my girl, he thought. "Well..."

You looked at him with wide eyes; shocked. "Wha'? That... That's your plan?" He nodded; taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. "You need ta trust me on tis, sunshine. Can ya do tha'?" You swallowed hard. "Daryl... You know I trust you blindly, but... This is risky... W-What if it goes wrong a-and you-" You didn't dare to voice your thoughts. "It ain't goin' wrong, I promise." You took another moment to dwell on Daryl's plan, but then nodded. "Alright. Let's do it." Daryl gave you a nod and reopened the wound on his lip; making it bleed again. A short painful hiss left his lips; causing you to grimace. You hated to see him in pain. "Daryl..." "'S alright," he reassured you immediately and proceeded to lay on the cold, hard ground. "Do it."

You took a deep breath, gave him a last look and turned to grip the steel wire door. "Hey! Hey!" You screamed; rattling and banging your fist against the steel. "Hey! You gotta help me! This bastard is throwing up blood! If he dies, he's gonna turn in here!" You even used your feet to make a racket. "Hey! You hear me! I need help!"

After a few minutes came finally two men - strangers to you, and went to turn the key in the lock. "Finally! Took you long enough! He could've died by now!" The man who unlocked the lock gave you a death glare, opened the door and rather harshly shoved you aside. "Outta the way!" You stumbled backwards; back hitting the wall. "Hey!"

The other man followed; both of them taking a critical look at Daryl, who - as if on command, spit out some blood. Kudos to his hurt lip. The men exchanged a look and gave him a hard kick in the ribs, before they harshly gripped him by his arms and dragged him out of the container; locking the door behind them again. You immediately ran back up to the door and watched; witnessing how Daryl got taken away. Your job was done. The acting over.

You could feel your heart beating in your throat; hoping, praying that this would go well...

He quickly made his way to you and hastily opened the steel wire door.

Daryl was brought to the 'Feed' pit with walkers. He got thrown on his knees on the edge; hungry walkers reaching for him. His breath was laboured; adrenaline flooding his body. The two men stood left and right beside him; hands clasping his shoulders and holding him up.

The archer knew that he had to act now - or never. So, he took a deep breath and rammed his elbow in the one man's stomach and punched the other one in the face. After shoving one in the pit and sending a bullet through the man's head who opened the pit, he also took the third one out - who was rudely wearing his vest, like you noticed.

You saw your husband slipping inside his beloved angel-winged vest, stealing the keys and opening the doors of all the cargo containers on his way back to you; letting out all the walkers - just in time. Loud voices already could be heard alongside gunshots. Daryl's actions didn't stay unnoticed, of course.

Daryl tried to understand how to actually get the lifeboat in the water, while you were on watch. Gunfire, screams and familiar snarls echoed from everywhere. The deck below you was a battlefield. For now, you'd be safe. That's what you thought. But then fell your gaze on a walker, which was suddenly running around a corner and slamming against the wall. Your eyes widened. Running. A running walker. "Uhh, Daryl?" You addressed your husband; eyes fixated on the walker. "Jus' a few more minutes. Almost got it." You watched with horror, as the walker took a few steps back and looked up at you; right in your eyes and flashing his rotting teeth at you. "S-Sweetie..." "Almost."

"You did it! Thank god!" You almost cried; throwing yourself in his arms. Daryl reciprocated your hug, "'Course, sunshine. Told ya." but not for long. "C'mon. We gotta go. We gotta get off this thing, c'mon," he said and let go of you; taking your hand and dragging you after him.

You both ran; leaving the chaos Daryl had caused behind and headed for the little lifeboat your husband had spotted as he was brought on board. You followed him wordlessly; panting, turning corners left and right and climbing steps. You were quite aware that your time was ticking. These people weren't stupid and knew who caused this. No doubt that they'd search for you at some point - but unfortunately, something else found you first...

Either you were going mad, or you truly watched the rotting corpse smile spitefully at you - and then started to climb the steps. Fast.

Your eyes widened even more - if that was possible; heart speeding up and pumping adrenaline through your veins. "Daryl!" You screamed now, and he finally turned his head; in time to watch the walker climb the last steps. You both had no weapons. No guns, no knives and certainly not his crossbow - or to say it straight... You were fucked.

"Can ya somehow distract him?" You swallowed hard; not knowing if that was going to work. "I-I'll try, but I have the feeling that this one is quite sma- Oh my god!" You couldn't even finish your sentence, before the walker started to run straight at you. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you focused to dodge it in the right moment. Luckily, you did and it crashed full force against one of the steel posts - and accidentally triggered the mechanism to let the lifeboat to water.

You looked up; eyes meeting Daryl's. "We gotta jump, Y/N!" You nodded at him. "Go!" Your husband scoffed loudly. "Hell nah! 'M not leavin' ya alone with this thing. You go first!"

You shook your head. "'M not leaving you with this walker either!" "Damnit, sunshine! We ain't havin' time to discuss this! Jump. Now!"

You swallowed hard, but gave in; running past the walker. Without thinking, you jumped over the railing; hoping to land not too painful. Luckily, you didn't. You landed in the water, beside the lifeboat and quickly climbed inside. Then your gaze immediately shot up; hoping to see Daryl. "Daryl!" You called out; worried sick that he wasn't able to escape the walker. Tears streamed already down your face, as you wanted to call out for him again - but then you witnessed him jumping over the railing as well and diving into the water. You quickly moved and reached for him; helping him inside the lifeboat.

He was breathing heavily; almost panting. "Are you okay?!" You immediately asked in a panicky voice; one hand tugging back loose, dripping wet curls from his face and the other resting on his heaving chest. Daryl saw your worry and nodded; placing a reassuring hand on your hip. "'M fine, sunshine. You good, too?" You nodded as well. "Y-Yeah."

Then Daryl shifted; moved to get the oars. "We have ta get away from-" Before he could finish his sentence, shattered a loud explosion the water. Daryl's eyes were glued at the fire and smoke for a moment, but then he started to navigate the lifeboat away from the ship. In safe distance, you watched how the flames on deck climbed higher. Wordlessly, Daryl took you in his arms; the both of you just happy that you were alive.

"Let's go back home, eh?" You nodded. Home. The only place you desperately wanted to be now. Reunited with your children.

Tags: @suniloli @stitchintimefan @in-this-minute @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @fuseburner @mandywholock1980 @celtic-crossbow @lou12346789 @mischief-dream @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @sweetz1919 @erebus-et-eigengrau @marvelcasey05

[adventuringblind]

Can I request an angst fic where reader is charles sister and she gets into accident (car accident or like wrong place wring time robbery, anything really) while he's in a race (lorenzo, arthur and their mother is with them) and xavi (🤢) is the one who answers charles' phone and decided not to say anything even after charles finishes the race and then the entire leclerc family find out after a reporter tells charles that "your nerves must be made of steel" and then everyone is confused and the reporter is all like "did no one tell you about your sister?" And like full angst when they find out that the accident hurt reader really bad (has problems with sight or maybe walking permanently, only if you're comfortable writing that) end it however you want, only if you want and if you are comfortable with this kind of stuff

Like Steel

Platonic!charles Leclerc x Sister!Reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Summary: Charles and his twin sister have always been close. Even being able to sense when something is wrong with the other. When Charles get confirmation after a race he was right, someone is to blame for his not knowing.

Warnings: car accidents, driving under the influence, hospitals

Notes: Xavi needs to get fired so my boy can have a chance. Also I don’t care if people smoke weed, but the amount of times I’ve almost been hit because someone was hotboxing their car is absolutely ridiculous.

Masterlist

To say Charles is close with his twin is an understatement. They are practically glued at the hip. They know what the other is thinking or feeling before any communication is had. Their connection to each other was concerning at first. But anyone could see that the Leclerc twins are just close.

Charles had been there through all of her breakups. Both with guys he did and didn’t like. She had been there through every step in his racing career.

It’s funny to say steps now, he thinks. Since his sister can no longer take any.

She’d gotten a job as the admin for the Ferrari instagram. She loved chasing around Charles and Carlos so the fans could see what they got up to in their down time.

She has a contagious smile that everyone can’t help but love. Her and Daniel were menaces to the paddock while he did media things for Redbull.

She’d been on her way to the paddock for her brothers home race. Monaco was the only race on the calendar where she got to wake up at home to go to work in the morning. She had a few PR things to do around the city first before she could head to the track. So she’d left pretty early. Deciding to walk since everything is so close together.

Charles knew she hated being late. Maybe that’s why the alarm bells were going off before he got in the car.

He’d waiting for her to show at the meetings. Then again while he was getting ready. He search before he got into his car. Then looked for her when her when he got to his grid box.

He felt it in the pit of his stomach that something had happened.

He’d managed to end the race in in first. Something that didn’t happen often so he was ecstatic. The thing every driver craves was once again in his hands. His family was there when he got out of his car. All except the one person he wanted to celebrate with most. Maybe she’d just gotten caught up in her duties?

It was his turn to interview. The smile on his face and cheers of the crowd made the endorphins in his brain skyrocket.

“Congratulations Charles! You must have nerves like steel out there!”

Nerves? Why nerves? He’s not nervous.

The reporter caught onto his confusion. “We’re you not made aware of your sister?”

“No what happened? Where is she?”

The reporter signaled to turn the camera elsewhere. Then walked to Charles to let him know in a normal conversation fashion. He’s grateful because not many would do that. “She was hit by a car this morning and is in the hospital.”

His heart sank. He looked to his family and by their shocked expressions they also didn’t know.

“Your race engineer Xavi said he got word off it right before the race. We figured you’d been told already. I’m sorry for the mix-up.”

“No it’s okay that’s not on you.” The he’s walking away. His team doesn’t try to stop him and he tells Carlos to stand in his place on the podium. He’s lost to many people already. He refuses to also lose his sister.

He doesn’t remember the car ride. Only the angry feeling knowing at his insides. He saw the call Xavi had answered in his call log. They didn’t call anyone else since technically, he picked up.

The rage towards his race engineer is not helping him think clearly. If she dies and Charles isn't there for her, he's never going to forgive himself.

~

He broke.

He saw her in the bed with machines and tubes everywhere, and he broke. He sobbed into his mother's arms. Lorenzo and Aruther trying to console each other next to them.

It's ridiculous, he thinks, how one person can attract so much death. Maybe it's to soon to say she's dead but by the look of things, she's halfway there.

He stays with her. Her hurts for her. Their stupidly strong connection makes this all the more difficult.

Pascale has forced him to leave her bedside on multiple occasions. But he always goes begrudgingly and under the stipulation that someone will get him if there are any updates.

It’s a month before she finally wakes up. Coughing and panicking. Charles is at her side immediately. Fate is certainly on his side today.

“What happened?” She asks after she could finally talk again. Though her voice is raspy and dry.

“You were walking to the track and got hit by a car. They were smoking marijuana so they didn’t see you.” Oh how Charles raged about that too when he found out. The stupidity of people sometimes amazes him.

The next words out of her mouth make him think that fate is just playing games with him at some point.

“Charlie, I can’t feel my legs.”

~

Turns out the car they hit her shattered a part of her spine, leaving her paralyzed. Now bound to a wheelchair.

Charles had to go back to traveling while she was doing physical therapy. She’s doing her best to learn how to do life now with her new set of circumstances. She did think it was funny getting to zoom around in her wheelchair and whizzing past her brother.

Her first appearance back at the paddock is a surprise to all. Mainly because she intended it to be that way.

She navigates down the busy path towards the Ferrari hospitality, her mother trying to keep up.

She missed being here. Seeing everyone so excited about the sport.

She came to a skidding halt at the door. Curse the stairs. Why don't they have a ramp? She'll be having words with Charles about this later.

"Maman! Can you help me please!"

It takes effort. She's still not quite used to everything but she's learning.

She successfully gets inside the door and into the main area of hospitality. Hugs greet her as some of the staff make their way over.

Now, the next part of this plan. Her mother calls Charles and puts it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Charlie, I just got word about your sister. I'm in hospitality-" She puts on her best worried parent voice.

"I'm on my way."

It takes approximately three minutes, and Charles is barreling through the door of security. His oblivieness becomes obvious as he misses her sitting in the middle of the room and is worriedly hugging his mom and asking her frantic questions.

"Is she- why are you laughing?"

Pascale is crying from laughing so hard. She gestures to where her daughter is waving and trying to get her brothers attention.

"Oh my god. You scared me so bad! Don't ever do that again!" He scolds them both. Then her embraces his sister.

"I'm excited to see you here!"

"Any news about Xavi?"

"He finally quit a couple days ago. I basically ignored him the last few races."

"And you've been doing better? You've won twice this month."

"And if I ever see him again, I'll make sure he never wants to be near an F1 car again."

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 8

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters

Ava had her headphones in, humming offbeat and unbothered as she scrolled through TikTok beside you, legs kicked up on the desk like she owned the place. You glanced over and nudged her foot with a half-hearted glare.

“Feet off, rat.”

She shot you a smug smile. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

You leaned back in your spin chair, phone in hand, eyes glazing over as you scrolled through your emails and DMs—searching for a decent makeup gig that didn’t involve shitty lighting and influencers who thought blending was a government conspiracy.

You were tired. Still a little dazed. Still trying not to replay the events from two nights ago like some pornographic fever dream.

Chris. His mouth. The things he said.

The way he didn’t kiss you.

It was burned into your brain like a tattoo you hadn’t asked for.

You were about to give up the search entirely when you heard it—your name.

Not just spoken. Called.

“Y/N!”

You turned.

Ava followed your line of sight and gasped so dramatically it almost made you laugh.

Chris.

In all his tall, tatted, casually smug glory—hands in his hoodie pockets, curls messy, smirk already forming like he knew exactly what he was doing just by being here.

Ava turned to you with wide eyes and then immediately got up and walked toward him like a moth to a very hot, very blunt-smoking flame.

“You’re Chris,” she said, squinting at him like she was doing a full background check. “Like the Chris.”

He blinked. “I think so?”

“You’re the tattoo guy who won’t leave my sister alone.”

Chris laughed. Actually laughed.

You stayed sitting, watching this absolute fever dream unfold as Ava began interrogating him with more energy than she's had all day.

“Are you, like, her boyfriend or something?” she asked, chin tilted in challenge.

Chris shook his head, still smiling. “Nah. I think she’s allergic to boyfriends.”

“Good,” Ava said, satisfied. “She deserves someone cooler anyway.”

“I’m cool.”

“Name three reasons.”

Chris actually thought about it.

“I have good taste in shoes. I have good music taste. And,” he pointed at her with a raised brow, “I’m taking you both for ice cream because I’m bored and my brothers are fucking annoying.”

You crossed your arms. “You don’t have any friends?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Chris replied, not missing a beat. “You’re my last option.”

You snorted. “Flattering.”

He grinned wider. “Come on, you’re already bored.”

And, honestly? He wasn’t wrong.

⸻

You, Chris, and Ava ended up at the sketchy-looking ice cream spot with the best reviews in town.

Ava and Chris were on another planet.

Bonding over Breaking Bad like it was their religion.

“Wait, you think Jesse was hotter than Walt?” Chris asked, scandalized as he took a spoon full of his ice cream. “He was literally dumb as fuck.”

“He was sweet!” Ava defended. “And tragic! You don’t understand. You’re too busy romanticizing trauma.”

You nearly choked on your spoon.

Chris tilted his head at her. “Okay, therapist.”

“You’re not denying it.”

He turned to you. “She’s evil.”

“She’s sixteen.”

“Exactly.”

You watched them like it was a movie. Ava all animated and passionate. Chris leaned in, actually listening, arguing back with a stupid grin.

The same mouth that made you a shaking mess just two nights ago… now covered in vanilla ice cream and arguing about character arcs with your little sister.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream.

By the time he dropped you both back home, Ava was riding a sugar high and ranting about fan fics. God was she bold.

Chris parked and waited until she got out, turning the engine off but not unlocking your side.

You looked at him. “You’re kidnapping me?”

He ignored that. “Stay for a sec.”

You blinked, but didn’t move to get out. “Okay…”

He rubbed the back of his neck like he was unsure how to say it. “Nick and I were talking. Our brother Justin—he owns the shop out in Boston. He’s doing this bigger gig out there. Photoshoot, promo. Ink mag might be covering it.”

You raised a brow. “Okay…”

“He wants someone on set for makeup. And Nick said you were the only one who didn’t piss everyone off.”

You let out a soft laugh.

Chris looked at you fully now. “You’d be paid double. We already have hotel rooms booked, it’s two nights max. Me, Nick, Matt—we’re all going. You’d just be staying in the same hotel, not our room or anything.”

“Unless I ask nicely?” you joked.

Chris smirked. “Don’t tempt me.”

You bit your lip, debating it. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said. “Just figured… I don’t know, maybe you could use a little break.”

Something about the way he said that made your heart flutter.

You looked down at your lap for a beat, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

Chris visibly relaxed. “Cool. I’ll text you the time.”

“You don’t have my number.”

“Then give it to me.”

You did.

And when you stepped out of his car and walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering all over again.

⸻

“Ava!” you yelled as you stepped through the front door, already kicking your shoes off. “Come here!”

She peeked her head out from the hallway. “Did we get robbed?”

You tossed your bag on the couch. “No. I got a job.”

She raised a brow. “And this is news why?”

“In Boston.”

Ava blinked. “Wait, what?”

You tried not to grin too hard. “Nick and Chris—well, technically their other brother Justin—owns a shop out there and they’re doing a photoshoot. They want me to be the makeup artist on set.”

Her eyes went wide. “Boston Boston? Like out-of-state Boston?”

You nodded. “They’re covering everything. Hotel, food, pay’s double.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god—oh my god. You’re going on a road trip with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “And Nick. And Matt. It’s a gig.”

She ignored that entirely. “Do you have to kiss him this time? Like, for the sake of the story?”

You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her head. “I’m going for work, kid.”

Ava caught the pillow, laughing. “So when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you said, heading toward your room. “I should probably start packing.”

Ava followed behind, arms crossed and a sly smirk creeping across her face. “You’re so full of shit. You’re excited.”

You paused by your dresser, shooting her a look. “I’m excited to get out of here for a few days.”

“And maybe to see if Chris is gonna look at you like that again.”

You shoved open your drawer. “I’m gonna punch you.”

“You love me.”

You didn’t deny it.

And while Ava flopped onto your bed and started helping you pick outfits “just in case there’s a dinner or some mysterious hotel bar scene,” you tried not to think too hard about it.

You were going to Boston.

Without Ava.

With Chris.

And somehow, it didn’t terrify you like it should’ve.

a/n: ROADDDTRIP taglist:

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