#Adventures in Anger Management

[datamodel-of-disaster]

My anger management therapist is an honest to god traditional psychoanalyst. You know, an older man with horn-rimmed glasses and a fancy purebred cat, whose practice space is a library with a fainting couch and an eclectic collection of antiques.

I don’t know how much this will help my anger issues, but at least the man’s interior style is better than that of my last therapist (whose practice was a rented office space covered in corny motivational posters and Live Love Laugh signage).

[demonic0angel]

What do you think about an au where kid Jazz caught kid Jason in the act of stealing Batman's tires. The end result, they both get kidnapped by Batman.

(I got really excited bc there’s been a lack of asks lmaooo, so it got long 💀)

Jason’s hands froze when he heard a gasp. When he looked up, it was to meet the shocked gaze of a cute girl with long red hair. “You!” She cried out, though thankfully, her voice was still rather hushed in alarm, “You can’t steal!”

She definitely wasn’t from Gotham. Her accent was all wrong, and all of her clothes were nice and pretty, completely unlike any Crime Alley residents. From her horror, it was likely that she was a lost tourist or some sort.

Jason hissed and put a finger to his lips. “Shut up! I can’t get caught!”

She looked indignant. “Yes! Because you’re committing a crime!”

“I don’t have money to eat!” Jason snapped. “The Batman’s rich, he can afford to replace these tires! Just leave me alone! I need this!”

The girl paused, staring at him for a long moment with wide eyes. Jason didn’t have time to dawdle. He could only hope to get at least one tire out before she ran off to report him or something, so he bent down and continued working on letting go of the tires.

The girl shuffled in place and then she said slowly, in a very nervous tone, “I’ll stay here to keep lookout. But you really shouldn’t be stealing!”

Jason smiled, but still snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. The name’s Jason.”

“Jasmine, but call me Jazz,” she said. She looked around anxiously and stared at him for a moment. Then she advised, “You should remove all of the lug nuts at once instead of one at a time, if you want to be quicker. And you should get a breaker bar, instead of a tire iron. It’s more versatile.”

Jason lightly rolled his eyes but switched tactics, secretly a little pleased that a pretty girl was talking to him at all. By the time he removed three tires, Jazz had accompanied him the entire time. At some point, they even had light conversation.

Jazz was a year older than him, attending middle school with a little brother and two parents. She had visited Gotham on a vacation, but she was now lost. Jason had lost both of his parents, had no siblings, left school, and lived here as a penniless orphan.

It was fascinating how their worlds had collided.

“Okay, I’ll take these away first because I can’t get four away at once,” Jason said. “Wanna follow?”

Jazz bit into her lip. “I’ll stay here. Give me the tire iron, I can do the last one.”

Jason grinned and thanked her. He was quite lucky that she was both cute and clever! He hurriedly went to put away the three wheels, but even when he hadn’t gone far and came back, it was to see the Batman looming over a shivering Jazz, who almost seemed in tears as the Dark Knight began to approach her.

Without thinking, Jason ran forward and jumped in front of Jazz. “Hey! Back off! She didn’t do anything!” He took the tire iron from her and shielded her, his stomach fluttering from a mix of fear, nerves, and the fact that Jazz had grabbed the back of his shirt in vulnerability.

The Batman stared at them suspiciously. “Oh, really? Then what is the tire iron for?”

Jason glared at him. “This!” He snapped, before whacking him in the stomach with it. Jazz pulled Jason backwards and without ceremony, dropped down to sweep kick the Batman before jumping up to her feet and then grabbing Jason’s hand.

“Let’s run!” She cried, not noticing Jason’s astonishment before she was pulling him away.

Jason grinned at her fleeting back and then laughed as they scrambled away from the Batmobile and its possibly very irate owner. “You just attacked the Batman!”

“So did you!” Jazz responded breathlessly, turning pink in the face. “Where to?!”

Jason ran ahead of her, still holding her hand as he swiftly changed directions. “I’ll take you to my place! C’mon!”

Not even a full day later, Jason was stuffed into the back of the Batmobile, slumping over in his seat with many protests. Jazz sat next to him, sitting ramrod straight and looking nervously around but silent and wide eyed.

“You can’t kidnap us, old man! This is abduction!” Jason shouted at the Batman, who didn’t even look back at them as he started the car.

Jazz huddled against Jason’s body and he squeezed their hands together.

No matter what happened next, he would definitely protect her. Even against the Batman!

[yzafre]

Purging another TMNT 12 thought from my head, but: the fact that Journey to the Center of Mikey's Mind was immediately preceded by Riddle of the Ancient Aeons was probably the peak.... the second-highest peak of my insanity over the fact that 2012 wasn't interested in being a heavily character-based narrative because oh my god. Oh my god.

If there weren't seeds there for that to be the most fascinating pair of Raph & Mikey episodes ever. Like some of the lines they dropped meant they could have set it up to be an intense meeting of two diametrically opposed methods of dealing with anger, with both having Very Valid Points, but ignoring how their perspectives are also being used to mask how some of their other flaws are actually motivating their implementation of those points in their lives.

And they could have learned things about themselves. And about each other. And it could have brought them closer or left lingering tension to be resolved later or. Or.

But that wasn't the type of story they were looking to tell here, and I know that, and that's fine, but now I just have all these Thoughts and Ideas on how it could have played out, or better yet been built up to over the season/series, and they're all trapped in my head, and I should be writing my fic for that other fandom but I'm stuck on that and these stupid turtles are taking over my brain.

[lilskirata]

Jurassic Park: A New Beginning with Steve Irwin Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5: The Tour de Extinct: Now Featuring No Actual Dinosaurs

The sun hung high over Jurassic Park, casting a golden glow over the lush greenery as the group gathered in front of the visitor center. Despite the tension still lingering from their encounter with the raptors, Hammond was all smiles, seemingly determined to push forward with the tour as if nothing had happened.

“Now, before we begin,” Hammond said, clapping his hands together with an eager grin. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and he rocked slightly on his heels, exuding the confidence of a man convinced he was about to unveil the greatest marvel on earth. “I have a surprise for you all!”

Steve leaned over to Malcolm, muttering, “Oh, mate, I hope it’s not another ‘controlled’ predator exhibit.”

“Worse,” Malcolm whispered back. “I think it’s children.”

Sure enough, the doors to the visitor center swung open, and two kids came bounding out. A boy and a girl—both young, bright-eyed, and, by the way Hammond beamed, clearly related to him.

“This,” Hammond announced, “is my granddaughter, Lex, and my grandson, Tim!”

Lex, about twelve years old, wore a confident grin, while Tim, a bit younger, pushed his glasses up his nose and practically vibrated with excitement. “Dr. Grant! I read your book! Twice!”

Grant blinked, staring at the boy like he’d just spoken in a foreign language. “You… did?”

“Yeah! You wrote about how dinosaurs might be related to birds! You think raptors were smart! Do you really think they could’ve been as intelligent as primates?”

Grant opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Steve leaned in with a grin. “Oi, give the bloke a second to breathe, mate. He’s still processing meeting his biggest fan.”

Ellie stifled a laugh while Malcolm smirked. “Oh, I like this one. He talks at a breakneck pace. He’ll fit right in.”

Lex rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage him. He won’t stop.”

Tim ignored her, turning his focus back to Grant. “What’s your stance on modern feather analysis in theropods? And do you think there’s a chance some species had pack structures similar to wolves?”

Grant just stared. Steve let out a short laugh, slapping Grant’s shoulder. “Mate, you might need a nap before the Q&A.”

Lex crossed her arms. “And for the record, I’m a vegetarian, so if we see any dinosaurs eating other dinosaurs, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Hammond clapped his hands again, redirecting the attention. “Now, now! The tour is waiting! Let’s not keep the dinosaurs waiting.”

Two sleek, electric-powered SUVs sat parked near a steel-railed track, looking pristine and futuristic against the wild backdrop of Isla Nublar. As everyone piled into the vehicles, Hammond, staying behind in the control room, waved them off with a cheerful “Enjoy the tour!”

Malcolm settled into his seat, adjusting his sunglasses. “Ah, nothing like a good theme park ride through a genetically reconstructed nightmare.”

Steve, sitting beside him, grinned. “Mate, I live for rides like this.”

Grant, meanwhile, found himself stuck between Tim, who was still bombarding him with questions, and Lex, who was trying to act like she wasn’t paying attention but clearly was.

Ellie shook her head with amusement before focusing on the view outside. The massive doors at the entrance to the tour route creaked open, revealing the expansive prehistoric landscape beyond.

The vehicles hummed forward on their guided track, the radio crackling to life with a pre-recorded voice.

“Welcome to Jurassic Park,” the voice intoned. “Our adventure begins with a look at some of the most magnificent creatures to ever walk the earth…”

As the vehicles wound through the park, excitement buzzed in the air. Tim practically had his nose pressed against the glass, scanning for movement, while Lex scrolled through the tour’s interactive guide.

The first stop? The Dilophosaurus paddock.

“Ah, now this is a treat,” the recording continued. “The Dilophosaurus, a stunning predator known for its distinctive twin crests and—”

Nothing.

No dinosaurs. Just trees and an empty clearing.

Steve frowned, pressing his face against the glass. “So, where’s the talent?”

“Maybe they’re shy,” Ellie suggested.

Malcolm tapped the side of the SUV. “Oh, fantastic. So, you spared no expense cloning dinosaurs, but didn’t teach them to show up for the paying guests?”

Steve snorted. “Hate to break it to ya, mate, but wildlife don’t run on a schedule. I once spent three days waiting in a mangrove for a saltwater croc that was supposed to surface ‘like clockwork.’ You know what happened? I got eaten alive by mosquitoes and the big fella never showed. That’s nature for ya.”

Tim, still hopeful, pointed to the forest. “Maybe they’re just hiding! They could be camouflaged.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure the ten-foot murder lizard is simply bashful.”

Lex pulled out the provided information tablet. “Says here they can spit venom.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “Venom?!”

Steve let out a low whistle. “I’d really like to see that.”

The radio chirped. “We’ll move on to the next exhibit. Remember, nature’s wonders don’t always perform on cue.”

Malcolm leaned back. “Great. That’s marketing talk for ‘no refunds.’”

The tour continued, winding past more exhibits with little to no dinosaur sightings, until finally, they arrived at something worth stopping for.

Grant sat forward suddenly, eyes widening. “Stop the car.”

Ahead of them, lying on her side in the grass, was a massive Triceratops. A real, living, breathing Triceratops.

Ellie gasped. “Oh my God…”

Steve was already halfway out of the SUV before the vehicle fully stopped. “Well, now this is more like it!”

Grant approached in a daze, reaching out like he was seeing a dream come to life. His hands touched the rough hide of the Trike’s side, feeling the slow rise and fall of her breathing.

“She’s sick,” Ellie observed, kneeling beside the park’s veterinarian, Dr. Harding.

“We think it’s something she ate,” Harding explained. “We’re not sure what.”

Ellie was already rolling up her sleeves. “I need to check her droppings.”

There was a pause. Malcolm recoiled slightly, adjusting his sunglasses as if reconsidering his life choices. Steve let out a chuckle. “Well, that’s dedication, mate.”

Tim, on the other hand, looked intrigued. “Cool! You can tell what she ate from that?”

Lex wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting.”

Ellie just grinned. “That’s science.”

While Ellie stayed behind with Harding to examine the Triceratops further, the rest of the group reluctantly returned to the SUVs.

“Be careful out there,” Steve called to her. “And watch where you step!”

Ellie laughed. “No promises.”

As the tour vehicles pulled away, Malcolm sighed dramatically. “So, what’s next? A dinosaur that actually shows up?”

Steve grinned, leaning back in his seat. “Mate, I think we’re about to find out.”

And with that, they continued toward the next stop—

The Tyrannosaurus paddock.

Chapter 6: Goat to Be Kidding Me

Taglist: @habblez-the-babblez

[prokopetz]

Reasons why that character who kicked your whole party's ass all up and down the street that one time you fought them is about as strong as the other player characters when you recruit them later:

Allergy season

Self-conscious about performing alongside others

When you fought them they were, like, really well rested

Pulled a muscle during your battle with them and spends the whole rest of the game recovering

They're been working on their anger management issues lately and really feel like they're making a lot of progress

Their build is so over-optimised for fighting parties of 3–5 nosy adventurers that it's honestly kind of trash against anything else

They were on so many drugs when you fought them, like you would not believe how many drugs they were on

Their soul-devouring demon blade is in the shop having its hilt refurbished

Just not feeling it right now

Union rules

[astrologydray]

Mars through the Degrees🥳

Mars represents action, drive, passion, ambition, aggression, and how you assert yourself. The specific degree of Mars in your birth chart fine-tunes how you express your energy, determination, and motivation💪🏾.

0° Mars – The Raw Warrior

• Pure, unfiltered ambition and drive.

• Acts on instinct and impulse.

• Needs to learn patience and strategy.

1° Mars – The Fearless Initiator

• Bold, pioneering energy.

• Takes charge without hesitation.

• Can be impulsive or aggressive.

2° Mars – The Strategic Fighter

• Combines action with careful planning.

• Determined and disciplined.

• Can be stubborn or resistant to change.

3° Mars – The Charismatic Competitor

• Energetic and playful approach to challenges.

• Draws people in with confidence.

• Needs to avoid arrogance.

4° Mars – The Steady Builder

• Takes slow, calculated actions.

• Focused on long-term success.

• Can resist taking risks.

5° Mars – The Passionate Creator

• Highly expressive and motivated by inspiration.

• Enjoys challenges that spark excitement.

• Can be dramatic in reactions.

6° Mars – The Intuitive Warrior

• Acts based on gut feelings.

• Sensitive yet strong-willed.

• Needs to trust instincts but avoid paranoia.

7° Mars – The Spiritual Fighter

• Motivated by higher purpose or beliefs.

• May struggle with balancing action and contemplation.

• Can be deeply idealistic.

8° Mars – The Power Player

• Highly ambitious and focused on control.

• Intense and magnetic presence.

• Needs to avoid manipulative tendencies.

9° Mars – The Adventurous Explorer

• Thrives on new challenges and risks.

• Loves excitement and change.

• Can struggle with commitment.

10° Mars – The Tireless Worker

• Extremely disciplined and hardworking.

• Takes pride in achievements.

• Can be too focused on work and forget to rest.

11° Mars – The Rebel Leader

• Defies norms and takes unique approaches.

• Challenges authority and restrictions.

• Needs to avoid unnecessary rebellion.

12° Mars – The Hidden Force

• Works best behind the scenes.

• Strong but subtle in action.

• Can struggle with suppressed anger.

13° Mars – The Transformational Fighter

• Faces major life changes head-on.

• Overcomes obstacles with resilience.

• Can be drawn to intense experiences.

14° Mars – The Charismatic Risk-Taker

• Enjoys the thrill of competition.

• Confident and persuasive.

• Needs to avoid recklessness.

15° Mars – The Balanced Warrior

• Seeks harmony in conflict.

• Can see both sides but still takes decisive action.

• Needs to avoid hesitation in battle.

16° Mars – The Purpose-Driven Fighter

• Feels called to take action for a cause.

• Motivated by meaning rather than personal gain.

• Needs to balance idealism with reality.

17° Mars – The Relentless Competitor

• Strong-willed and never backs down.

• Thrives in competitive environments.

• Needs to manage aggressive tendencies.

18° Mars – The Deep Thinker in Action

• Combines intelligence with action.

• Makes careful yet bold moves.

• Can overthink before taking action.

19° Mars – The Daring Risk-Taker

• Enjoys pushing limits.

• Takes risks others shy away from.

• Needs to weigh consequences before acting.

20° Mars – The Determined Worker

• Focused and disciplined in achieving goals.

• Doesn’t give up easily.

• Needs to avoid burnout.

21° Mars – The Creative Powerhouse

• Expresses energy through art or innovation.

• Highly passionate and dynamic.

• Needs to channel energy productively.

22° Mars – The Strategic Mastermind

• Excellent at planning and executing goals.

• Thinks before acting but moves decisively.

• Needs to avoid over-controlling situations.

23° Mars – The Bold Leader

• Commands respect through action.

• Fearless in pursuit of goals.

• Needs to balance dominance with teamwork.

24° Mars – The Passionate Lover

• Expresses energy through deep connections.

• Highly driven by emotions and desires.

• Needs to manage intensity in relationships.

25° Mars – The Fierce Protector

• Defends loved ones and beliefs with passion.

• Extremely loyal and courageous.

• Needs to manage possessiveness.

26° Mars – The Silent Force

• Doesn’t show aggression outwardly but is highly determined.

• Works behind the scenes to achieve power.

• Needs to express anger in a healthy way.

27° Mars – The Visionary Fighter

• Motivated by big-picture thinking.

• Combines ambition with wisdom.

• Needs to balance dreams with practical action.

28° Mars – The Restless Warrior

• Constantly seeking the next challenge.

• Can struggle with settling down.

• Needs to find stability in action.

29° Mars – The Karmic Warrior

• Faces karmic lessons around anger, action, and ambition.

• Must master control over impulses.

• Has great power but must use it wisely.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!

summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐

luffy

there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.

a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.

like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.

an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.

what's worse? they ran off. with you.

luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.

he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.

then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.

you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.

luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.

an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.

his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.

then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.

your laugh.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his head clears.

he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.

even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.

if you can laugh, then so can he.

finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.

"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"

your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.

"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.

he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"

zoro

after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.

for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.

eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.

he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.

“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.

he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."

"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"

with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.

yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.

instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.

he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...

he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.

your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.

it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.

you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”

“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.

focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.

i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.

so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.

“oi, don’t waste good booze.”

sanji

the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.

he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.

currently, he's on night watch.

a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.

out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.

yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.

he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"

his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.

he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.

"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.

he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."

"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"

you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.

he could almost cry.

"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.

the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.

thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.

his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."

"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."

sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.

he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.

law

it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.

the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.

was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.

so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.

you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.

he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.

when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.

"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"

you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"

"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."

pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.

he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."

oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.

you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."

with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.

your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.

you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.

a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"

"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."

he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.

it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.

in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.

[datamodel-of-disaster]

I need to write user stories and a full analysis.

For the French Project Manager.

Who is just gonna mansplain at me and make me feel bad about my work and piss me off.

I need to do it even though I don’t want to because it’s literally my job.

Please send encouragement.

[newbieschaos]

Prologue: A New Feeling

Description: As the Daughter of Gwi Ma you’re often noted as the Princess of Demons. What happens when you’re asked to join a new boy band in their adventure to defeat the Hunmoon while playing the role of their manager.

Pairing: Saja Boys x Manager!Reader

Warnings: Female Reader.

Author’s note: I am not sure if this will be a continued series it depends on if people want it to continue and if I have time. However hopefully it will be. Let me know if I missed any warning. This is my first time writing anything for Kpop Demon Hunters so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

Next chapter: Chapter I

You stared out towards the crowds of demons. Exhausted of watching the same thing since you were created. You walk into the only shelter available specifically for you. While you may not adore your circumstances you know you have it better than most. You have more freedom and power simply for being born. However, that didn’t stop you from being unsatisfied.

You would always try to get information. While you understood how humans became demons. You never quite understood what kept them in place or guided them to your Father. You’ve been submerged in the life of anger, judgment, and shame. Admittedly it was all you knew. However whenever someone would be a little more willing to speak whether it was due to their fear of you or their lack of awareness. They would share the wonders of the world above and more importantly the feelings of being a human. Those people rarely made it down here. After all, having such emotions created vulnerability and weaknesses. They never stood a chance.

But even as you watched demons were massacred daily by your father. Showing you the power he hopes you'll share one day. You can't help but allow curiosity to take you. That was the first new feeling. Curiosity. You never had to wonder about the world around you when you would one day rule it. You knew every corner, every secret, and every punishment. However, hearing of a world you could only see in your mind which lacked the image of anything other than the world of demons. It sparked an emotion you never knew existed. The idea of something new overtook you.

You knew you wanted more. However, convincing your father to allow you out for no apparent reason would be idiotic. You would simply have to continue observing and preparing. There you go again another feeling you know you shouldn’t have. Longing. As a future ruler you should never long for anything. Seeing as what you want should be done whether it’s through force or power. Your thoughts are broken at the sound of a knock at your door.

You look at it curiously. Everyone knew better than to approach your sanctuary. After all, you were the daughter of their king. Who knows what would happen if they messed with you? You open the door observing the man who stands at your door. You had talked to him a few times. Enough to allow him to slightly lower his guard. However, that didn’t explain his bravery for approaching your home. You weren’t that close. “Jinu,” You say his name. No question being asked, not kindly either, simply recognizing his presence.

You watched the hesitance in his eyes and sensed his growing doubt. Something you were often taught was signs of weakness. “I have a favor to ask of you.” You say nothing as you sidestep to allow him inside. You watch him curiously while you know you shouldn’t have allowed him in and forced him to hurry along or approach your father. Perhaps even label his efforts as pathetic. You couldn’t help but become curious.

You guide him to a table and sit across from him. You say nothing simply waiting for him to speak. He looks at you for a moment before beginning “I have a plan a way to work on breaking the Hunmoon. Seeing as our current efforts aren’t working I want to shift our focus to what powers it. The Fans.” You raise a hand before he can continue. You look at him bored. “While I can appreciate a new point of view. Why are you approaching me over this? After all this sort of news would do much better with my father.”

“I was hoping to gain your support in this. Perhaps if we had been more prepared to support this idea it would be more convincing.” This made more sense. It would only make sense that an idea so risky would appear much more stable if the Princess of Demons were encouraging it. However, that would require your assistance and your father to value your opinion. And in this case, he overestimated your power in decisions. “I cannot convince him of such a decision.” You couldn’t believe anyone thought you had actual power in convincing your father. Tell that to your other siblings who died for being too weak to be part of his bloodline. They’re likely laughing in their grave.

“However if your idea does have the capability of success. I could possibly help the process.” While you may not have much power in the decisions made. Once your Father has decided to do something he is more willing to allow your interference. Seeing as he has taught you his expectations and motives. To him, it’s like having another set of eyes, a mini him. Jinu nods knowing he won’t get much at the current state of things. “We’ll see if this is even accepted then we can decide how to go forward.” You finalize the conversation.

Continuing to talk about this would get you nowhere until it was accepted. And until then you would treat it as another thought from the meaningless. After all, you wouldn’t want to support something that’ll end so quickly. Because of this not hearing the plan was the better decision. You walk him out and as he steps outside he turns back. His eyes shine in the low light of the underworld. While you may not admit it out loud you couldn’t help but admire how mesmerizing he looked. You snap yourself out of those thoughts waiting for him to speak. He sighs and prepares himself to talk making complete eye contact with you. Before changing his mind and choosing to look away and do nothing. He walks away.

You look after him confused. This entire plan made no sense. Why is he so desperate to be the one to defeat the Hunmoon? What does he think you can help with? Why did he turn back? You know that these questions will go unanswered. At least until this idea was brought to your father. So you return to your seat and continue to observe the world you’ll rule. Unsatisfied with what you see.

Time has passed but the approach has not left your mind. You watch as Jinu makes his way to the front offering your father his idea. His approach was bold and allowed your interest to grow. You understood the point to gather attention with the beauty and heartbreak of it all. However, that did not mean this would go well. You especially doubted this after he and a group of boys began to pose in odd ways. You felt something bubble up in your chest in that moment.

Finally, after everything is laid out to your father you sigh in relief once the plan is accepted. Why you were relieved you’re unsure. However, that is when you decide to approach your father. “I wouldn’t mind keeping an extra set of eyes on this. If you’d like?” You held your breath. While you made it appear to be in good faith for him realistically the desire was selfish. You wanted to discover the world above. You wanted to escape this boring world and support an idea you believed in. Whether or not you knew that’s how you felt.

You’re unsure if it was because of his doubt in the boys or the security in having another set of eyes but he accepts. Jinu looks over to you pleased to hear of your support. While you simply nod towards him. As everyone disperses you approach the group. “I believe it would be ideal to discuss what’ll happen these next few days.” He nods and pulls you towards the others. They appear doubtful of your presence fearing your capabilities. You knew this would get you nowhere.

“While I enjoy watching you hesitate so much. Must I remind you that I am not my father? I will not harm you.” And you meant it. While you often hid it from your father to survive you knew you had a weak heart. The little care shown to you by your mother made it permanent. Jinu decides to back you up being the only one who knew you before this. “Believe me she is not as bad as she may seem.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Well, she chooses not to be.” You nod in satisfaction.

Finally, you watch as they slowly start to give in to themselves and become comfortable in your presence. They explain to you their performance personas, how they will drag their audience in, and that they will pose you as their manager. You gather as much information about what to prepare for the next few days. You couldn’t help but feel a slight excitement in all this. Something you hid away. You would never have been able to imagine where this would take you. And all the new feelings this new world had planned for you.

[joemama-2]

somethin' sweet

synopsis: you own a five-star renowned restaurant that is extremely hard to get into. business is great, the customers love it. everything is as perfect as can be. that is until a harsh food critic leaves you a bad review. you're stuck with a dilemma, let this one review overcome you. or.....fuck him so he can change it. tags: smut, sort of public sex, vaginal penetration, oral, gojo is kind of mean and annoying, praise, degradation, doggy, missionary, cunnilingus, dividers by @cafekitsune word count: 6370

The one time you’re not here, the one time you actually listen to everyone’s complaints about taking time to yourself because you overwork way too much. The one time you use your PTO to vacation to Bali for a week,

A distinguished critic visits your restaurant. 

You stare down at the screen in your hands, having not at all prepared for this news to be brought on you as soon as you enter. Its words stare back at you, taunting you almost. You’re half tempted to throw it across the kitchen, but that would be another expense added to your list of supplies you needed to buy for the upcoming month.

“What day did he come?” you ask as your pointer finger scrolls the screen, reading more of the nasty review that was left.

“A Saturday. None of us even knew he was coming.” Mayra, your head sous chef, replies. The rest of the staff stands around. Some in nervousness, anticipation, and even anger at the predicament. “We sat him on the top. Even made sure he had the whole floor to himself.”

The top floor, strictly reserved for distinguished guests who waited on your month long reservation list, or for those who would simply buy it out for the night. Your top floor is constantly raved about in the media, sometimes for its lavishness and other times in jealousy. Long story short, the top floor is for the best of the best.

And they gave him that.

But it seems he didn’t care for that at all.

“If you’re in the mood for a culinary adventure that feels more like a misadventure, look no further than Lovely Haven, the so-called “fusion” restaurant that blends American comfort food with Italian classics. Unfortunately, the only thing they seem to have fused successfully is disappointment and confusion. The result is a dismal failure that feels like a cruel joke on the palate, this is what happens when culinary confusion collides with utter mediocrity.

Let’s start with the decor—an odd mix of rustic Italian charm and the kind of neon signs you'd find in a questionable diner. It’s as if someone couldn’t decide whether to create a romantic trattoria or a roadside burger joint. The atmosphere is confusing, much like the menu.”

You scoff as you read this part to yourself. The decor? The decor was one of the things almost every customer raved about. Its bright lights mixed with sleek and stainless furniture was the epitome of success. Going as far as bugging your interior designer for days, even weeks on end, to get it down to the T. 

Secondly, mediocre? How dare he? You’ve been in the culinary arts for over two decades now, and so has your staff. You were very nitpicky and quite a perfectionist when assembling your employees for your place of solace. Your 5-star Michelin restaurant, yes, 5-star. It only took two years to achieve that goal, which placed you as the quickest growing restaurant in your area. And he’s treating it like you’re nothing but a simple Applebee’s or Chili’s. 

The balls on this man.

“Now, onto the menu—a dizzying array of choices that reads like a desperate attempt at creativity gone horribly awry. The lasagna burger is a prime example of this misguided ambition. It arrives as a soggy monstrosity, with layers of pasta and a sad, overcooked beef patty that would make even the most forgiving diner weep. It’s a culinary abomination, devoid of flavor and entirely forgettable.

Then there are the “famous” Alfredo fries, which manage to be both an insult to fries and Alfredo sauce. The dish is an affront to all things Italian and American, featuring limp, greasy fries drowning in a thick, tasteless goo that resembles some sort of industrial paste. It’s a disgrace, and I genuinely questioned whether anyone in the kitchen had ever tasted actual food before.”

By this point, your grip has tightened on the Ipad, jaw clenching and brows furrowing. This man, he really, really was an asshole. Disrespecting your hard-working kitchen staff was a low blow that you took personally. “How long did it take to get his food out to him?”

“Twenty minutes, Y/N.” Luke, one of the managers, replies. “I timed it and made sure it was prepared before the other guests who were dining.”

So not only was he being treated like a princess, but the other customers, who probably got there before him, received their food after he was served. All for the sake of him not reviewing your restaurant’s “unkempt timeliness”.

You continue to read the last few paragraphs while your stomach twists and turns.

“Service, predictably, matched the culinary catastrophe. Our server was inattentive and seemed more interested in their phone than in providing any semblance of hospitality. Drinks took an eternity to arrive—warm, naturally, because why would you expect cold beverages at a restaurant?

Dessert? Oh, you mean the “Tiramisu Sundae”? It’s a ghastly creation that defies logic, featuring layers of sad, mushy sponge cake drowned in what could only be described as a failed attempt at chocolate syrup. The entire dish is an insult to the beloved Italian classic, tasting more like a punishment than a treat.

In conclusion, Lovely Haven is not just a failure; it’s a disgrace to the culinary arts. If you value your taste buds and your sanity, steer clear of this pitiful excuse for a restaurant. Save your money and your appetite for a place that actually understands food. You deserve better.”

The silence that follows is harsh, awaiting a potential outburst from you. You lift your head and swivel around to glare at the group around you. “Who served him?”

Hesitance replies back, some of your staff looking down as though the ground seems more interesting than your death glare. It isn’t until you ask the question again, in a firmer tone, does Mayra respond. “Susan.”

Jesus christ. 

As if things couldn’t be worse, who’s bright idea was it to decide that the slacking employee serves your distinguished guest. The one person who has been trying your presence since she was hired. “Where is—”

You’re disrupted by the kitchen door opening, the problem herself walking through with earbuds in and of course, scrolling on her phone. As she looks up and sees the numerous amount of eyes on her, her steps falter. Confusion sparks through her expression, but as soon as you step forward, it begins to click.

“You’re thirty minutes late, I put you on opening because you said you couldn’t close anymore.” You don’t even have it in you to lighten your tone, eyes narrowed and voice clipped in annoyance, frustration. “Your performance has been lacking for months now, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Ever the brat she is, her arms cross. “I’m a busy college student, I have other priorities and things on my mind unlike the rest of you.”

“And I understand that,” you snap back.”But there is a difference between having other priorities and simply not caring. You don’t listen, you show up late, and you’re using your phone while you’re on the floor. Do you understand how extremely disrespectful that is?”

A moment of silence passes as she seems to formulate what to say in her mind. “I jus—”

“You’re fired.” you cut her off. “Your last check will be deposited within 24 hours, do not come back and if you do, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

Luke and Mayra, along with your other manager, Ren, sit next to you in your office. Computer screen displayed in front of you four while your fingers type away. Mayra glances at your focused expression before back at the screen. “Do you really think he’ll reply back? Critics don’t usually come to review a place for a second time, especially one they strongly advised against.”

“I don’t care,” you murmur, eyes not straying from the email you’re drafting out. “Out of the seven years we’ve been operating, we haven’t had a single bad review. And now, this entitled ass thinks just because he gets paid to eat and critic, he can ruin our reputation.”

Ren sighs, hand lifted to his forehead. “Y/N, it’s okay. One bad review doesn’t and won’t define us.”

“Besides, he’s known for being harsh, he does this to everyone,” Luke adds on.

“Even more of a reason for me to do this. I will not allow him to openly disrespect our hard work and dedication like this.”

The three around you give one another a knowing look, right before you click send on the email.

“Hello, Mr. Gojo. 

My name is Y/N L/N, I’m the owner of Lovely Haven, a place you recently reviewed. After reading your honest review, I am extremely upset and apologetic for the food and service you received that day. That is not at all what we strive for, and again, I sincerely apologize. 

If you would accept, I would like to set up a second visit for you. We are closed on this coming Friday, due to the holiday, but I’d love to personally serve you myself and answer any and all questions you may have regarding Lovely Haven and its history.

Please respond back as soon as you have a moment. Thank you again.

Kindly,

Y/N L/N”

“Hello, Ms. LN,

I appreciate you reaching out to me. I’ll come around 8am on Friday. Thank you.

Sincerely, 

Gojo Satoru”

You;ve spent the better half of the past two hours setting up and making sure everything is perfect. You’ll be damned if you have a rerun of last time, especially on your watch. Your staff insisted you don’t handle this alone, urging for at least two cooks to be present. But you refused.

Lovely Haven is your business and creation, your heart. So in a way, you feel as if it’s your job as the owner to make this all right. If anyone can serve this man, it’s you. 

You’re dressed formally, hair up (in case he tries to complain about hair in his food). Wearing a simple black dress, modest enough as it reaches your knees. It’s tight, but not too tight. You’re wearing small black heels to match, gold jewelry complimenting the attire. 

The clock inches towards 8 and you, for some reason, find yourself feeling oddly nervous. Maybe it’s the anticipation or anxiousness for a second try. Your stomach curls, almost like you’re a lovestruck high schooler seeing her crush in the hallways. Sweaty handles fiddle together in front of you while your eyes dart from the watch on your wrist and the glass front doors.

Either this man had a penchant for being late, or you somehow mixed your days up and he’s not coming today. Dramatically, you check your phone and let out a sigh of relief when you see it’s Friday. Okay, good. Then he’s really just late.

Well, not exactly late. But he said he’d get here at 8, it’s 7:57. Usually people don’t get to places at the time they said, because if he came at 8 exactly, that is late. You should always show up at least five minutes before your estimated arrival time, at least that’s how you thought.

No, that’s how most normal, responsible adults thought.

Maybe he’s not normal. Can’t be if he gave you a one star and brutal review. He’s probably just trying to be different from the rest. And you hate people like that. Shitting on something that is actually good, whether it be a show or movie, simply because everyone else says it's good. And the fact that he’s known for his low reviews is even more infuriating. 

There’s no way every place he visits is below three stars. It has to be his taste buds, they’re probably—

“Good morning.”

You snap your head up, completely lost in thought that you didn’t even notice, let alone hear the dreadful man walk in. Already not off to a good start. A smile finds its way on your face, hand held out, to which he shakes. “Good morning, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gojo. I’m Y/N.”

He nods, a small smile reciprocated back. “I figured.”

Is it just you or did he tone sound almost condescending? And that smile on his face seems like he’s the type to think he knows it all. 

Nope, don’t do that. 

Pulling your hand away after what seems like a longer than usual handshake, you step aside and motion towards the array of tables. “Well, why don’t I show you to your table?”

“Yeah, why don’t you?” he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks, raising a thin, white eyebrow as if to silently urge you to start walking. You hold back an eye twitch, turning around and walking to the area you set up specifically for him.

He’s following behind you as you walk, the heels of your shoes softy clanking against the ceramic tile. As you glance back, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes quickly raise up to meet yours. Like he was—

“I apologize for not being around last time, I was on vacation.” you say, cutting off your own train of thought that you won’t entertain.

“Ah, no worries. Where did you go?” His pace matches your own now, walking side by side as his arm barely brushes against your bare skin. “Somewhere nice?”

You chuckle lightly and nod. “Yes, I went to Bali. It was quite lovely. The people were very welcoming and the food was absolutely delicious.”

A hum. “Better than this place, I hope.”

That comment. God, that comment. And the fact that he’s hiding it behind his sickeningly sweet smile, a tilt to his voice like he’s joking but not actually joking. You’ll pray for the former. “I can assure you, Mr. Gojo, both residences of food are exquisite.”

You two get to the square table prepared for him. A crisp, white linen tablecloth across the surface, that creates a clean and elegant contrast that elevated the rustic charm. At the center, a simple yet striking centerpiece emerged—a small terracotta pot filled with fresh basil and rosemary, their vibrant green leaves offering a delightful aroma that whispered of Italian kitchens.

Polished silverware gleamed in the soft light, laid out neatly on either side, ready for the culinary delights to come. An elegant, crystal wine glass on the side. Cloth napkins, folded into intricate designs, rested atop his plate. The dual flickering candles in small glass holders cast a warm glow over the table, creating an intimate atmosphere that you hoped would help catch his eye.

Finally, a menu card that displayed the special dishes you had prepared just for him. You took the time out of your day to make this specifically for today, crafting your menu for a man who probably didn’t think twice about it was not on your 2024 bingo card.

He takes his seat as you stand in front of him, placing the menu closer to his reach. “Here we have a variety of our best sellers and limited editions. Just for you, Mr. Gojo.” Your smile gets a little harder to keep up as he lazily sits back in his seat, scanning the menu with his sharp, blue eyes.

“Interesting,” he observes, even flipping it over. He glances back up at you. “The stuffed arancini, is that good?”

“Delicious, sir.”

“Okay,” he looks back down at the menu. “Then I’ll get the Buffalo Cauliflower Bites for an appetizer, plus the Bruschetta Trio. Oh, and to drink, I want one of your craft mocktails.”

So he asks for your opinion, and doesn’t even order it. “Of course, Mr. Gojo.” You don’t write it down, having already committed his order to memory, due to years in the food industry. “I’ll get started on that right now.”

With one more smile, you turn around and head to the kitchen. As soon as the doors close, your face hardens with irritation. Walking around to grab the appropriate ingredients, grumbling to yourself curses. Sure you’ll make his food and smile at him, doesn't mean you won’t be a brat about it behind closed doors. 

The minutes Gojo spends alone, he’s meticulously counting them down. Eyebrow raised as he eyes the kitchen doors and the arms of the small clock. Leg crossed over the other with his arm resting on top of the back of his chair that he;s currently tipping back and forth with the stability of his foot. 

After about three minutes, you greet him with his mocktail, setting it down. “Here you go, sir.”

“Finally, I almost died of thirst, you know?” He huffs a small chuckle and he sips from the straw. You want to grimace as he swishes the liquid around his mouth, head tilting in dramatics. He’s acting like it’s mouthwash or something. As he swallows, you do your best not to focus on the bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

What do you think you’re doing? Checking him out right now, seriously?

“How is it?” Your voice raises a tad, either in nervousness or a way to calm your suddenly rapid beating heart. 

“Not too bad, a little sour for me.” He comments, tongue coming out to lick across his bottom lip. “What’s in it?”

“Basil lemonade and berry spritz, Mr. Gojo.” 

“Satoru,” he corrects you, eyes rolling while his hand waves around dismissively. “Stop calling me ‘sir’ and all that, makes me feel old. Besides, this is supposed to feel comfortable isn’t it? Don’t force yourself with the formalities.” 

Well, that’s a small breath of relief. You simply nod. “Of course, Satoru. Then you may call me Y/N.”

“Was already gonna do that.”

“Right.” 

A small pause follows, hands awkwardly fiddling behind his back. You didn’t even realize it before, but the way he stares feels really invading. Especially with how bright his eyes are, you’re starting to feel naked under his gaze. Like he can sense it, he grins boyishly. “The appetizers?”

You nod again, quicker this time, clearing your throat. “Yes, coming right up.”

And once more, you leave him be while you finish up his food. The bruschetta trio, a classic tomato and basil, roasted red pepper and feta, with wild mushroom and truffle oil topping, served on toasted artisan bread. This dish is loved among your regulars.

And the buffalo cauliflower bites which are spicy, crispy cauliflower tossed in buffalo sauce, served with a side of creamy blue cheese dressing. Perfect for customers with a higher spice tolerance, craving that explosive taste in their mouths.

Holding the two white, glass plates with ease, the doors push open by your back as you walk back over to him. “Bruschetta and the cauliflower, Satoru.”

He doesn’t waste time in taking small, careful bites of each platter. Humming in thought as he does this. It takes a couple minutes before he speaks, using the cloth to wipe at the corner of his mouth. “The mushroom is quite bland, the bread is too hard. And the blue cheese doesn’t go well with the bites.”

Each word is like a punch to your gut. He’s really just finding every little thing to pick at, isn’t he? Lips pursing, your eyebrows raise in faux consideration. “I see, I can remove the dressing for you, and I’ll serve you a softer piece of bread.”

Your hands reach out to take them away, just as his moves into frame. Your fingertips brush against the back of his hand. “No need to take them away, just stating facts.” His smile never seems to leave and each growing second, you feel more and more tempted to wipe it off his face. He gently pushes your hands away, interlacing his fingers together. “Do you expect replacements to suddenly wipe my memory clean? Why should I have to rely on you giving me a replica of what I ordered, when the original piece should’ve met my expectations?”

A little caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you gulp and clear your throat. “Well, if something is not up to par for my guests, it is my duty to replace that with something that is.”

“Sure, but I’m asking why it wasn’t perfect the first time.” He leisurely sips from his mocktail. 

A small, but forced laugh leaves your lips. “We do try our best every single time, Satoru. Being perfect has proved hard when everyone has different tastes.”

“So you just give out generic food and hope for the best?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

Your brows begin to furrow at his nonchalance, lip barely quirking down into a frown. “I’m sorry, but our food is not generic. We serve with love and dedication.”

“Love,” he repeats in a mocking tone, picking at the bites with his fork. “This was made with love?”

He’s really getting on your nerves now. “Yes, it was. If you do not like it then I can remake—”

“I’ll take the balsamic glazed chicken,” he cuts you off. “With the alfredo fries. You’re talking about remakes, right? Then make those fries good this time. Thanks.” 

You can’t help but stare down at him, the nerve he has is beyond rude. His demanding nature contrasts with your helping one. But, you stay resolute in your politeness, mumbling a small ‘of course’ before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

It’s a disaster, truly.

A hard, long, infuriatingly annoying disaster. 

Every platter crafted with delicacy and carefulness, he sets aside with calmness. Claiming how the littlest of little things was wrong or how it tasted bad. He even makes a couple snide comments about where you learned to cook from and they should be ashamed.

No matter what, however, he conceals his comments with those stupid laughs you’ve started to despise. 

Like it’s funny to him how much you’re failing to please him. 

Sweat threatens to trickle down your forehead, using a spare towel to dab at your face. Your hair has started to become a tad unkempt, having to constantly push stray pieces of hair out your face and even grabbing at your hair in frustration. This is probably your own fault for setting this all up, but never did you imagine it would turn out like this.

His table is filled with a variety of plates and dishes stacked unceremoniously on top of each other to make room for the next one.  

Throughout it all, he watches your struggle in silent amusement. Everytime you turn around to stomp back into the kitchen, he gets a clear, nice view of the way the fabric of your dress tugs around your ass, legs sleek with whatever lotion you decided to put on.

Your perfume fills his nostrils as you come back to him, to which he feels more and more motivated to bring you down and just stuff his face into the crook of your neck. Or the middle of your plump thighs that have just been calling out to him like a siren.

Satoru would like to think he’s a man of self control, but you’re really pushing him, and you’re not even trying. 

He’s being purposeful with his actions just to keep this entire visit long. Just so he can keep checking you out and biting his lip as he inhales your scent. Just so he can have the ample amount of time to force down the boner he has from under the table.

And well, because he’s really, really looking forward to dessert.

You breathe out a heavy breath, one of exhaustion as you present him with yet another platter. He laughs to himself as he takes a bite.

“Meh, too soggy.”

That’s it. “I’ve given you everything on the menu.”

“Oh, have you?” His head tilts innocently. 

Your teeth grit. “Yes, I have.”

“Well, that’s a bummer. You really shouldn’t have had such a limited variation.”

“It’s not lim–”

“Dessert, right? That usually comes after the main course.”

“......yes. What would you like?” You’re forcing your words out by now, hands twitching as they threaten to grip his pretty throat. 

Wait, pretty?

Jesus christ, can you stop thinking that right now?

“Hmmmm, let’s see here.” As his eyes scan over the desserts listed on the menu, a frown, or a pout, makes way onto his lips. You close your eyes for a second, counting from one to ten and back. “Is this it?”

“Yes.” 

“I have to say,” he lowly whistles. “none of this looks very….appealing.” As he looks back up at you, there’s a small glint in his expression. One that almost causes you to shiver, for some reason. 

Is he playing with you now?

“Nothing?” You ask, arms crossing over your chest. “All of that is what guests order the most.”

“Well, I’m not some regular schmegular guest, now am I?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s standing, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other meekly points to you. “So, what do you say? You gonna give me something I actually want?”

A small huff escapes from your lips, now longer having the strength to hold back your irritation. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh cmon, don’t give me that.”

“Give you what?”

“That.” He juts his chin in the direction of your scowl. “Do you usually frown at your customers?”

“I frown at men who take my kindness for granted,” is your response, eyes narrowing. “Also, you have been nitpicking every single thing I’ve given you. You’ve been extremely rude about it.”

“Rude? Is honesty rude now? I thought you wanted my honesty.”

“There’s a stark difference between the two.”

“Really?” He leans closer, face teetering on the line of too close as his point finger just barely skims across your forearm. “Mind enlightening me?”

Your breath almost hitches, skin feeling all too warm. You peek down at his finger before back to his face, heart beating faster than normal. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He counters. 

“Like you’re trying to flirt with me.”

He barks out a laugh. “Trying? No honey, I am. Why, do you like it?”

“No, I don’t like being flirted with by rude and random men.” You reply, tilting your chin up. “Especially you, sir.”

His grin widens. “Cute. But you know what I don’t like?” As he steps closer, you’re forced to step back. “No dessert.”

His finger travels up your arm, your shoulder, then stops at your jawline, head tilting as his breath fans your cheek. “So, what else can I eat?”

This is stupid. So stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. Out of character. Anything that means bad. 

Is this really all for a good review by some asshat who takes joy out of making people's lives harder? Or are you  actually enjoying it? 

You feel disgusted at the situation, angered and infuriated that you’ve fallen into his trap. You want to curse out to whatever gods that may be watching and demand why you couldn’t hold back. 

Either way, you’re not the only one who couldn’t hold back. 

Your breath hitches, a broken string of whines leaving you as the flat of his tongue runs through your slippery folds. His hands on your thighs keep you grounded in place atop the table, because your hips keep twitching up in need of more friction. 

You can’t even see his face as it’s so far buried into your wet pussy, practically stuffing his face with it. But god do you feel him. The tips of his hair tickle your inner thighs. His low moan reverberates through you, making you shiver and tingle with excitement. 

“A—ahh….!” Your hand finds a place on his hair, pulling as your head tilts back with another moan. “F—fuck…”

His lips smile against your skin, pulling away for a second to look up at your blissed out expression. His face is coated in your juices and you haven’t even came yet. “Pretty good, might be the best thing I’ve had today.”

As he goes back to ravishing you, his tongue slips into your aching hole. Which causes your back to arch up, a higher pitched whine leaving you. “Tad salty, very sweet.”

His comments feel degrading almost. But with the way your thighs threaten to close around his head, pushing his face closer to your cunt, he has a feeling you like it. 

It’s electrifying and confusing at the same time. You’ve never been one with hookup culture, you’re not a virgin either but this is on a totally different level. Here you are, letting him tongue fuck you in the middle of the empty restaurant in which you were supposed to be serving him. 

Technically you are still serving him.

He urges your hips closer to the edge of the table, spitting harshly against you as he delves back into giving you the best eat of your life. 

His tongue alternates between your hole and clit, giving both equal attention while his fingers knead the plush skin of your smooth thighs. Your toes curl in your heels and you feel so close. 

You can practically taste it on your tongue, not even mindful anymore of the noises that you’re making. Too engrossed in the utter bliss of the way his mouth sucks and licks at your folds. 

You don’t even know you’ve finished until he’s come back up, licking away your release that’s plastered to his pale skin. Left panting and staring up at the dangling lights that feel blinding. 

What brings you back down to Earth is the soft clanking of metal. Your head whips down just as he’s unbuckling his pants, eyes blown wide. “W-what are you doing?”

He simply looks at you, shrugging with nonchalance as his belt comes undone, button and zipper next. “Gonna fuck your pussy, what else?”

You scramble to sit up, but he’s faster. Holding your legs open, leaning his face closer. “What? Don’t wanna?”

“I—I shouldn’t. I mean, we shouldn’t.”

“Pfft, why not?”

“Because this wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“But it has,” he tugs his slacks down, giving you full view of the raging boner nestled under his black boxers. His hand reaches to give himself a few strokes. “Haven’t been this hard in a long time.”

You feel your release ooze down onto the tablecloth, hole feeling empty as it clenches around air. All you can do is watch him jerk himself, gulping as you lick your lips. “This is….really wrong.”

Yet it feels so right. 

His lips touch the side of your neck, kissing and sucking a small mark into your skin. You tilt your head for him, arm coming up to hold around his neck. Chest heaving up and down. “I’ll fuck you good, I promise.”

Your eyes are instantly drawn down to his leaking cock as he pulls it out. Long and thin veins decorating the length with pre-cum leaking out the head. Trimmed with a small white bush of pubic hair at his base. It looks pretty. 

He huffs out a breathy laugh, titling your face up to him, lips meeting. His lips are soft and plush, melting into it. He keeps his hand on your nape so he can deepen the kiss, tongue invading your mouth like a snake. 

Spit dribbles down the corners of your mouths. All the while he’s teasing your entrance with his cock. 

“Ngh!” You pull away, face scrunching and mouth agape. 

“Mm, like that?” His tip runs up and down your slit, smearing his pre into your folds and around them. The sight is lewd. “So wet, just from my tongue too. How many guys make you finish from just eating you out?”

Out of all the times he tries for a conversation, does right now have to be one? “N-none…”

He hums. “So I’m the only one? I like that.”

He finds your hole, just barely pushing in. Your nails claw at his shoulders, whimpering into his ear. “S-shit, just wait a second…”

“For what?” His voice is husky, brows pinched together. The warmth from your cunt practically enveloping him whole. 

You croak out something unintelligible. For a few seconds, you two stay frozen like this. But that’s cut short as he slowly begins to slide deeper. “Shit, stop squeezin’ me.” He grunts.

All you can offer is a weak “I’m not” before being cut off by a breathy moan, one he replicates with you. He moves in deeper and deeper, until he’s finally buried to the hilt in your warm pussy. It’s big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

His fingers dig into your hips while your nails into his shoulders. 

Practically feeling his cock twitch within you, you have to hold back squeezing around him even more. But it just feels too good not to. It makes you feel full. 

As he begins to move, he’s whispering dirty praises into your ear.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Who knew you had such good pussy.”

“Look at you, sucking me in like a good little whore, huh?”

“Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had.”

Each word he emphasizes with a quicker thrust. The silverware clanks around you, some even falling to the ground. The table creaks and the cloth crumples up. “W-wait….slow…ngh!” 

“No slow,’ he patronizingly laughs, his gaze darkened as he looks at you. “Going fast, you’re gonna take it too. ‘Cause you’re a desperate little thing, aren't you?”

You whine out, biting down hard on your lip you’re surprised you’re not drawing blood yet. He takes this as an invitation to devour your mouth once more. The kiss is harder this time, more sloppy. Seems sloppy is his thing.

Before you know it, he manhandles you to flip over, ass high in the air while his hand forces your back down into an arch. “Just like that. Stay still and I’ll let you cum again.”

With this new position, he’s able to hit spots you didn’t even know were there. All you have to hold on is the cloth of the table, balling them into your fists while he mercilessly pounds into your pussy from the back. His balls hit your clit in a repetitive motion that damn near causes you to see stars. 

Noises and mumble words fall out your mouth like water, the side of your face being pushed down into the hard surface. His hand twirls and tangles in your hair before giving it a hard tug back. 

“Mngh!”

With one hand on your hip and the other in your hair, it gives him all the reigns to perfectly fuck your squelching hole, pace unforgiving. And what’s he doing the whole time? Laughing. That asshole is laughing.

Either at your state or the fact that you fit so perfectly snug around his cock like a ring.

It’s like he’s moving on autopilot, just one thing on his mind. Fucking you like your his fleshlight he keeps in his room. “Maybe I should’ve come here sooner—fuck—could’ve had this pussy all to myself even sooner.”

He groans, head tilting back as a familiar sensation bubbles in his stomach. “Ah, god…fuck.”

“D-dont cum!” You half-heartedly shout, body trembling in preparation for your second release of the day.

“Hah?” he huffs out. “You tell a guy who’s fucking a pretty pussy he can’t come? You’re crazy.”

“Ah….hah…!” You mewl out, squeezing around him.

He curses under his breath, hips stuttering. A warm feeling erupts deep within your cunt, causing you to whine. It makes your whole body feel as if it’s on fire, thighs shaking. Your cum mixes with his own, dripping down the backs of your thighs in a disgusting manner. You’re left panting for air

He spends a good time watching it all happen, and as he pulls out, seeing your hole twitch and tremor around air almost starts to make him hard again. He leans over, hot air hitting the shell of your ear, his voice low and husky. “Up for more?”

Monday, 9am.

Incoming message from 

Mayra: 

Check your email, forwarded you something.

You groan tiredly, fingers fiddling with the bright screen of your phone. Clicking on the wrong app a couple times before opening your Gmail. You press on the email from Mayra, an attached link.

The link leads you to a familiar site, embarrassment painting your features as you read.

“After a rather lackluster first experience at 'Lovely Haven,' I was pleasantly surprised by my second visit. Walking into the restaurant felt like stepping into a cozy embrace, with the ambiance perfectly set to spark a little magic. The soft music and intimate lighting created an atmosphere that made everything feel just a little more exciting.

Let’s talk about the food. I started with the savory starter, which was a perfect balance of flavors. Each bite was a tantalizing tease that had me eagerly anticipating what was to come. Then came the main course, which was cooked to perfection and bursting with flavor. It had just the right amount of kick, leaving me wanting more and more.

 I decided to try their special dessert this time, and let me tell you, it was absolutely divine. Each bite was a burst of flavors, rich and decadent, just how I like it. The way it melted on my tongue was nothing short of a culinary revelation. I might have lingered a little too long over that dish—can you blame me? It was like savoring a sweet secret that just kept getting better.

But let’s not forget about the service. The owner was not only charming but also incredibly attentive. There was a delightful chemistry between us that made the evening even more enjoyable. She made sure I was well taken care of, adding that special touch that turned a simple meal into something unforgettable.

If you’re looking for a place that offers more than just food—something that tantalizes the senses and leaves you feeling revitalized—I highly recommend giving 'Lovely Haven' a try. Just be prepared for some delicious surprises that might have you coming back for seconds (or thirds!). I certainly will!"

a/n: first smut piece kind of. if there's typos, pls overlook them, i was very tired and in heat. sorry if it's not very slhow burn :( but i hope you all enjoyed. thank you smmm <3

[aventurineswife]

Sampo, Gepard, Phainon and Mr Reca react that reader has a chaotic little sister like Klee from genshin impact

Chaos is a Ladder

Tags: Sampo x Reader, Gepard x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Mr. Reca x Reader, Klee based Little Sister, Chaos, Sibling Dynamics, Mischief, Humor, Fluff, Lighthearted, Action/Adventure, Sibling Care.

Warnings: Minor Destruction/Explosions, Implied Danger, Mild Language/Swearing, Light Violence, Over-the-top Humor.

Sampo leans against a wall, his trademark grin widening as he watches your little sister’s antics. She’s busy blowing things up with her homemade firecrackers, and the resulting chaos is causing a small stampede of frightened people. You look at him helplessly, knowing exactly what’s going through his mind.

“Well, well,” Sampo muses, his tone smooth as ever. “It seems your little sister is quite the bundle of excitement. Reminds me of the old days when my schemes didn’t just get me into trouble… but make me a fortune.”

You groan, dashing forward to stop her before things escalate further. But Sampo, ever the opportunist, flashes a wink. “Don’t worry. You’re not alone. I’ll make sure nobody gets too hurt.”

The moment you turn away to manage the mess she’s caused, Sampo’s already starting to haggle with some of the bystanders who were unlucky enough to witness the explosion, offering "discounts" on goods to ease their 'frustration'.

“Ah, the power of chaos,” he says. “Quite profitable if you know how to work it."

Gepard stands at attention as he watches your little sister, a tiny ball of chaos wreaking havoc in the middle of a perfectly serene courtyard. His eyes narrow, but it’s not with anger. No, it’s a sense of duty.

“Is this how she spends her free time?” he asks, his voice calm but betraying a slight hint of disbelief.

“She’s just—well, she’s energetic," you try to explain, chasing after her as she ducks and dodges your attempts to get her under control. A little fountain of water has erupted from one of her contraptions, and it's now quickly flooding a nearby garden.

Gepard crosses his arms, his gaze remaining composed even as your sister’s antics go from bad to worse. “I understand the need for adventure, but I cannot allow disorder like this. She is… certainly a handful.”

When your little sister playfully tosses a flower at his face, he pauses, blinking at the gesture. His gaze softens slightly. “You know,” he mutters, “perhaps a little chaos can be a good thing. Keeps us vigilant, reminds us to expect the unexpected.”

Despite his stern demeanor, there’s a warmth in his eyes as he observes her mischievous grin. After all, what’s life without a little unpredictability?

Phainon, ever the composed warrior, watches your younger sister with a mix of bewilderment and fascination. She’s jumping around, firing off small bursts of energy from a toy gun and accidentally knocking over a stack of supplies.

His hand moves to the hilt of his weapon instinctively as a loud explosion echoes from her direction, but it’s just a small pop from a confetti bomb she set off.

“Is she always like this?” Phainon asks, trying to keep a straight face, though it’s evident he’s struggling not to laugh.

“I’m afraid so,” you reply sheepishly, stepping forward to try and corral her before things get too chaotic.

Phainon watches your attempt, a small smile tugging at his lips. “She has… much energy.” He pauses. “It is both admirable and terrifying.”

When your sister starts running circles around him, Phainon takes a deep breath, preparing for whatever might come next. But then, to your surprise, he kneels down to her level. “You know,” he says with a soft chuckle, “I think I would enjoy a race. But only if you promise not to set anything on fire.”

Your little sister giggles in response, and suddenly the warrior finds himself caught up in a race he didn’t expect to be a part of. Phainon’s composure remains, but there’s a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes as your sister leads him around, full of chaotic energy.

Mr. Reca sits back in his chair, watching your little sister with a critical eye. She’s throwing something—he’s not even sure what—into the air, and the resulting explosion leaves a trail of smoke and a few startled citizens behind.

“Another act of meaningless chaos…” he mutters, tapping his fingers on the armrest. “I could’ve filmed that, but it lacks substance. No depth.”

You rush to calm her down, your face a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. “She’s just… being herself.”

Reca glances over, his normally cynical expression softening as he watches the mischief unfold. “I suppose she does have a certain… authenticity to her,” he concedes. “But let’s see if she can manage something with more depth than mere explosions.”

Before you can respond, your sister sets off another round of firecrackers, and this time, Reca rises, walking toward her with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “If you’re going to make a mess, at least make it one that has a story. I don’t want to see just destruction. Show me the meaning behind it.”

As your sister throws another wild concoction into the air, he tilts his head, almost impressed. “Perhaps you do have a spark of potential.”

You can only sigh, knowing that this time, your little sister's chaotic nature might just inspire something worthwhile for Reca—though whether it’s the film he’s hoping for or just another headache remains to be seen.

[astrobymarwa]

Venus vs mars and moon in relationships

(long post compared to my usual posts. not proof read. ignore any mistakes pls i'm not a native speaker)

venus is more about your relationship ideals. what you think a relationship should be like or how you picture a perfect relationship.

for example:

a pisces venus would idealise a relationship where there's private sentimental space. a relationship where they can share dreams and sentiments with that person.

a virgo venus could idealise relationships that are structured. a relationship where there's stability and rhythm

a sagittarius venus could idealise an adventurous and unpredictable relationship. a relationship where they can explore different things with that person.

venus in aquarius loves unconventional relationships. would love to have others question how did they end up with their partner or wonder about their relationship status. could also like being in online relationships.

venus in 3rd idealises a relationship where they're intellectually stimulated.

venus in 10 likes power dynamics in relationships or being with someone very successful (not in a gold digger sense, but bc they want to be with someone who's admired by others)

venus in 12 likes secret or forbidden relationships. could love the secret crush stage more than the actual relationship.

venus in 11th loves the friends to lovsrs trope, thinks establishing a friendship before a relationship is important.

venus in 1st could view relationships as the most important patt of theur lives, or would want to be associated with and recognised by their relationship.

venus is more about the ideals, the idea you have about relationships and usually is more at effect before the start of the relationship. it's a crush aspect in my opinion. once you start dating and your significant other is seeing the real side of you not what you picture yourself as, it's the moon and mars that affect your connection. your moon which signifies how you feel about things, and mars which signifies how you take action regarding your feelings (e.g. anger management, sexual urges, your mannerisms in general. it's how your feelings manifest into action)

for example:

a cancer moon is a tender person, they're very in tune with their feelings. but if it's paired with a more structured mars like a capricorn or a virgo then the person would be the type who's reserved with showing feelings, even if they feel a lot, they wouldn't let it show often and wouldn't let their feelings rule their life.

an aquarius moon's feelings are scattered and all over the place, even they can't understand themselves at time. they take time to sort out theur feelings. if it's paired with a mars that also lacks structure like a sagittarius or a gemini mars then that person would find it even harder to sort out their life. having stability would be very difficult for them and others could find it difficult to keep up with their fast pace.

(I've already mentioned this in anither post) but a person who has a difficult moon - mars aspect would often have their wants and needs clash, what they desire and what they would or wouldn't do about it are at odds. for exampld: they could want to be carefree and express their feelings but wouldn't because they want to do things on a more logical basis or want to be more dependable (like the cancer moon capricorn mars example above) or they would want to be logical and dependable, would analyse their feelings and try to understand themselves, but when confronted with real issues they'd react impulsively or have the urge to just leave everything behind, even their worries (for example an earth moon and a fire mars)

your venus aspeting these two would show how the relationship ideal you have manifests with your actual personality in real life.

a.i. if you have a stable and structured venus but a moon/mars that is completely different then you might love that kind of relationship but would hate to actually be in it. a venus in 10th that loves having their partner be admired by others but have a leo mars might hate it when their partner is the center of attention not them. or an aquarius venus that admires unconventional relationships but has a capricorn mars/moon could eventually resent the lack of stability their relationship has.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling Apart & Torn at the Seams [4/5]

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k [Series Masterlist][Jax Fic Masterlist]

warnings/tags: 18+; pregnant!Reader, angst with an eventual happy/hopeful ending, emotional hurt, threat to abort (because it's Clay), angry Jax, Clay being Clay

a/n: So glad to see how much y'all have been loving this little thing that grew into far more than just the two parts I'd initially planned (which is why I just gave this thing a masterlist). I've decided it should end at five now, but it's because y'all enjoyed it so much that I expanded on more parts of it, so thank you for the comments and reblogs, they really are always appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989 @hiddenwritings-adventures @shadyshadyy @cwallace02sblog @staley83 @steviebbboi @bonni-98   @aria725 @mmarysha @secretlysamcro @f1samcro @dollface-xoxo

Roughly pushing open the clubhouse doors, Jax stalked inside the main room, his steps slow and purposeful. He fixed the chapel doors on the opposite end with a dark glare, his fists tightly curled at his sides as he moved past the pool table and the bar. The room was oddly quiet without the usual noise of a party underway, the space eerily devoid of its usual loud laughter and even louder music. It was a Wednesday night and the guys weren't here. 

But Jax knew that Clay was, and that's all that mattered right now.

With his jaw clenched so hard the muscles in it ached, Jax made his way over towards the closed chapel doors, his body tensed and ready for a fight. Clay had been conveniently difficult to find ever since Jax had broken into your apartment and confronted Gemma about your disappearance yesterday afternoon. Which meant Jax had more than an entire day to sit in his quiet rage while it festered, causing him to only further grow vengeful and furious when he thought about what Clay had done to you. His imagination supplied the missing pieces of the puzzle, because Jax could guess what threats Clay had made against you.

But while Jax had been itching for the chance to get Clay alone and confront him, he’d also been busy making his own moves. He'd still spent that time trying to figure out where the hell you could’ve vanished, but it didn't matter how often he kept trying your phone, it always went straight to voicemail–as if it was turned off now. He’d tried leaving you a handful of messages, but he never heard anything back from you. 

It was going on five full days of you being gone without a goddamn word. The silence from you was maddening. All Jax could think about was you out there somewhere pregnant with his kid, completely alone, and probably scared because of Clay. He fucking hated the thought of that. It had him tearing apart both his room at the clubhouse and his own damn house. 

Jax had tried to focus his mind and energy on doing what he could in the meantime–sending out Chibs and Juice to interrogate your landlord in an attempt to figure out whatever they could. While they’d been tasked with that, Jax had spent the day planning something else with Opie. Because he was going to bury Clay for what he’d done, that much was certain. But even that still didn’t feel like he was doing enough right now. 

As Jax approached the chapel doors, he could hear the faint sound of voices coming from within. His teeth ground together, his anger barely being held back inside of himself as he stood there attempting to keep some level of composure. He needed to see what answers he could manage to get out of Clay, to see if there was anything he might say that could give Jax some idea of where you were. But of course Clay was here late plotting things behind closed doors and the backs of the whole club. 

He wasn’t going to keep getting away with this shit, though. Not anymore.

Uncurling one of his fists, Jax reached out and twisted the door handle before pushing the door open so hard it flung backwards and smacked into the wall with a sharp bang. Both Clay and Tig instantly fell silent at the interruption, their attention shifting straight towards the door. Jax stood there with his eyes locked on Clay, a vicious gleam in them as his lips curled back into a sneer.

If he could have ripped Clay’s head off with his bare hands right now, he absolutely would have.

“Whoa, Jax, man,” Tig began, brows furrowing faintly together as he took in the sight of him. “Easy there. What the hell are you doing?”

Clay didn’t look remotely fazed at the sudden enraged entrance, almost as if he’d been expecting it. The way he so comfortably leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, folding his hands in his lap as he focused on Jax like he was completely untouchable, only pissed Jax off further. But it was clear on Clay���s face–he knew exactly why Jax was here just by looking at him.

“Get the fuck outta here, Tig,” Jax snarled, his glare remaining fixed on Clay.

In the chair beside the Sons’ president, Tig focused his attention on Clay, giving him a questioning look. With his own eyes never leaving Jax, Clay gave him a single nod in response.

“Leave us, Tig,” he ordered, flicking a hand dismissively. “‘S’alright. I got this.”

Tig hesitated in his chair for a moment longer, clearly aware of the tension between his president and vice president but not making the connection as to what it was over. Eventually when Clay didn’t say anything otherwise, Tig quietly slid his chair back and rose to his feet. He gave Clay one last look before he slipped past Jax and out of the chapel, closing the door after himself on his way out. 

And then it was just the two of them.

Jax stood there for a moment longer, seething as he stared back at the man who’d just spent one afternoon five days ago blowing up his entire life like it was nothing. And now here he was sitting there looking so fucking calm about it, like he hadn’t done a goddamn thing wrong forcing you out of his life and this town.

“Where is she?” Jax asked, voice level but not any less threatening. “What’d you do to her?”

Clay shrugged a shoulder simply, pulling a face at the questions. “I didn’t do nothin’ to her,” he answered. “Just paid her a visit. Had a talk. That’s it.”

Lips pressing together, Jax’s nostrils flared sharply at the response. He knew damn well how much Clay was downplaying whatever ‘visit’ he’d had with you. And yet he was going to sit here and lie to his goddamn face about it, too. 

“A talk about what?” he pushed firmly. “And don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’ve had it out for her since that first night she came to the clubhouse. Don’t tell me it was some friendly visit.”

Clay continued to sit there, casually leaning back in his chair at the head of the table as a silence fell in the room. Jax recognized the calculating look in his step-father’s eyes–he’d seen it plenty of times to know what it was by now. It was the same look he had whenever he attempted to twist the truth or detract attention away from himself.

“She doesn’t fit, Jackson,” Clay finally said, his words breaking through the heavy tension in the air. “In this world, in this club, in your life. I know it. Your mother knows it. And I’m pretty damn sure your little girlfriend knows it, too.”

With a frustrated grunt, Jax crossed the distance from the entrance of the chapel and over to the ornately carved wooden table. His eye twitched as he tried to hold himself back from doing precisely what he’d rather be doing–beating the absolute shit out of the man. But instead, his fists came down slowly against the table’s surface as he leaned over towards Clay.

“That’s not what I fucking asked you,” Jax growled low.

“But it’s what you need to hear,” Clay countered, his own tone matching Jax’s as he leaned forward along the table, his eyes narrowing back at him. “Because ever since she started working at the garage, you’ve been distracted. Everyone can see it. You’re lettin’ pussy distract you from your responsibilities to the club and your family.”

Jax slammed his fist hard against the solid table, his knuckles stinging from the impact. It was taking every bit of willpower for him to resist striking Clay right in the fucking face like he desperately wanted to, but he knew he had to refrain from the urge. He had a plan in motion to deal with Clay and he couldn’t deviate from it. He couldn’t risk tipping the club off as to what was really going to happen to Clay by having a physical altercation with the piece of shit and leaving any evidence of just how badly he wanted him gone. 

“Don’t you dare call her that,” Jax warned him. His lips twisted up into a dark smile, one that contained only danger and threats as he held Clay’s own cold gaze. “She’s not just some club whore, you old bastard. She’s my girl. My old lady. And you were threatening her.”

Clay scoffed, shaking his head at Jax’s words as if they were nothing. Jax could feel himself practically vibrating with rage right now, everything inside of him screaming to unleash what he was feeling on the bastard–to beat him within an inch of his life and watch him choke on his own blood in this very room.

“She’s nothing more than a passing flavor of the month for you,” Clay retorted. “The way you go through girls. She's nothing.”

“She’s mine!” Jax shouted, finally succumbing to his rage. “And she’s carrying my fucking kid!”

Jax’s chest heaved with his sharp breaths as he stood there bent over the table, a wild look in his eyes as he stared down his president. Clay still kept that outward calm as he eyed Jax, clearly unaffected by his words. Which was all the confirmation Jax had needed. Gemma might not have known that you were pregnant, but somehow Clay had. And he’d still fucking pushed you out of Charming anyway. 

Trying to reign in his temper, a bitter laugh fell out of Jax as he straightened back up beside the table. He stared down at Clay, one of his shaking hands coming up to comb through his shaggy hair in frustration. 

“You fucking knew, didn’t you?” he spat. “You knew she was pregnant. That’s why you threatened her, wasn’t it?”

Clay shrugged again. As if it didn’t matter. As if you carrying his goddamn child didn’t matter. His lips pressed together at the realization of just how cold–how fucking cruel and ruthless–the man really was when he wanted something. And Clay had wanted you out of the picture long enough. 

“Yeah, I knew,” he admitted easily. “So I paid her a visit. Told her the truth.”

Jax’s eyes narrowed further into slits at his words. “The truth?” he shot back, his head tilting to the side in challenge. “What fucking truth, Clay? You been doing nothing but feeding the both of us lies for months now. So what goddamn truth did you share with her, huh?”

Clay’s hand raised from the table, gesturing at Jax before him. “That you, my son, are not remotely in the place or the mindset to become a father,” he answered smoothly. “You’re barely taking care of your damn self, you got no idea the first things about raising a kid. And let’s be real–that ain’t the kinda shit you want on your plate right now.”

“Don’t you–” he snapped, pointing a ringed finger sharply at Clay, “–call me your son after the shit you've done. And don't you even try and pretend to know a damn thing about what I want. You got no idea.”

“Don’t matter now,” Clay told him. “Your girl is probably long gone now. She’s got no job since I fired her, so who knows what happened to her.”

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jax’s jaw tightened at the information. He’d fired you–you hadn’t quit. Clay had fired you knowing that you were pregnant. Knowing you’d need a job and money and fucking insurance to take care of yourself and that baby right now. And right now you had none of that, not because you’d made the choice yourself, but because Clay had intentionally taken it all from you.

Attempting to maintain his composure, one of Jax’s hands ran along his mouth. The sharp scratch of his facial hair against his fingers barely registered as he fought to keep himself from knocking the old fuck right out of that chair. That haunting thought of you somewhere struggling right now flashed through his mind, and he physically had to restrain himself by gripping his other hand against the edge of the table.

Clay would get what was coming to him despite how goddamn smug he looked sitting there. Because Jax knew something that Clay didn’t, and it would only be a matter of time before that president patch was stripped from Clay’s kutte and sewn onto his own. 

Jax was going to make damn certain Charming was safe for you, and then he was going to fucking find you and fix everything. It didn’t matter how long it took for you to forgive his stupid fucking ass for not just listening to you that night you’d come to him for help. He would do whatever it took to get you back here and keep you safe. 

Which is what he should have been doing in the first place.

Taking a few steps back towards the chapel doors, Jax’s glare remained on Clay. “You fucked up, old man,” he told him. “You're eventually going to find that out.”

Without another word, Jax turned and exited the chapel, slamming the door shut behind himself as he went. As he stormed his way through the empty clubhouse, his steps swift and heavy, he knew it was foolish to have hoped that Clay might have given him some clue as to where you’d disappeared to. He probably had no damn idea himself.

Stepping outside of the clubhouse and back into the dimly lit parking lot, Jax continued to stride across the pavement. Opie was waiting for him right where Jax had left him a bit ago–leaning against his bike and smoking a cigarette. He nodded his head in greeting at Jax as he expelled the smoke from between his lips.

“Get what you needed to, brother?” Opie asked curiously.

“Of course not,” Jax snarled in irritation. He grabbed his helmet from where it was hanging on the handlebars of his bike, unclipping it before he jutted his chin at Opie. “You get what you needed?”

Opie nodded, tossing his cigarette down to the pavement. He stamped it out with his shoe, his eyes flickering to the clubhouse as he did before he focused back on Jax.

“Yeah,” he answered. “You sure you wanna do this, though?”

Jax’s eyes burned with rage as he stared at the clubhouse, securing his helmet on his head. “He’s taken enough from us, Ope,” Jax answered, an edge to his words. “He got away with what he did to Donna. Now he's trying to push out my girl.” He secured the helmet on his head as he looked back at his best friend. “You wanna give him the chance to find an excuse to go after Lyla next?”

A muscle jumped in Opie's cheek at the question before he quietly shook his head. 

Jax turned and threw a leg over his bike, settling down onto it. “I’m sick of him getting away with this shit,” he spat bitterly. “He's not taking anything else from us.”

[delicatelyjovialobject]

2024....so far : Different perspectives matter.

This is August, 2024. And I must say, it has not been easy so far but yet it has been easy. Fighting with my own mind to be better has been the hardest battle I have fought my whole life. Mostly because it involves having to accept so many things that the ego tried so hard to protect me from. I used to say I came to this world to get closer to love and to find my love…..boy did I not know the…

[tossawary]

Thinking about the SW prequels versus the original trilogy again and I was trying to come up with a "Binary Sunset" equivalent moment within "The Phantom Menace". You know that moment where Luke stands alone on Tatooine before his adventure begins, looking off into the darkening horizon, and the music swells with all of these unspoken emotions?

Watching "A New Hope" after watching the prequel trilogy is interesting, because the original film is a lot slower in many ways. It allows the viewer to really sit in this fantasy world, appreciate its unfamiliar details, and think about what the characters must be feeling without being directly told. While I don't think that TPM should try to copy ANH beat for beat by any means, I do think that the prequel trilogy, especially TPM, could have used more scenes that let the actors and the music work to impress upon us that kind of emotional interiority.

For example, Obi-Wan is given a stunning lack of emotional focus throughout TPM, up UNTIL his solo battle against Darth Maul and his grief urging him to take on Anakin as an apprentice afterwards. It's good that we have those moments, and yet I don't think the battle hits as hard as it could have if we'd been offered scenes beforehand that told and showed us more about who young Obi-Wan was and how he felt about what was going on, so that we cared a little more about his deep personal loss, especially given that the Obi-Wan and Anakin later relationship is an emotional core of the trilogy's tragedy. Obi-Wan spends a lot of TPM as just "that guy standing next to Qui-Gon", leaving fans to turn to novelizations and their own assumptions for a little more depth, which I think is poor filmmaking.

Padmé receives perhaps even worse treatment than Obi-Wan in regards to her emotional interiority early on. (Especially in "Attack of the Clones", which is so focused on how Anakin feels about everything that it's hard to know from the films alone why Padmé as a specifically flawed person might find him appealing, making what could be a deliciously ill-advised affair of passion and need for comfort much more one-sided and flatter (and creepier and sexist) than it could have been.) You could even argue that TPM really ought to be "Padmé's" movie, in that it's her homeworld under attack, for which she (despite being a child) has been made responsible. Her desperation, her fear, her anger, is manipulated to put a future Sith Emperor in a position of power. The Jedi are helping her, yes, but it's Padmé relentlessly driving the plot forward.

Instead of being relegated to more of a supporting character position, I think Padmé should have been given some of those slow "protagonist" moments in TPM to showcase her emotional state, specifically a scene that would have been the rough equivalent of Luke returning to the destroyed farm after the stormtroopers attacked. Padmé's party manages to escape Naboo without the film ever really dwelling on the violence, which is yet another missed opportunity. TPM ends up treating war a lot more comedically than the shootouts and climatic dogfights of ANH.

I think it would have kicked ass if the fight to get the queen on an escape ship had been even harder. The queen is hustled onboard, the ship takes off, and then we see one of the handmaidens (Padmé) rush to the window to watch as another wave of attack rushes over her city, her people. The prequel trilogy is tonally all over the place, so it's nice to imagine another version of TPM setting the tone with its own version of the "Binary Sunset" moment in which a devastated Padmé silently looks out over a horizon that's falling to pieces. Fire reflected in her eyes and everything. With the music swelling grandly with the unforgettable, life-ruining horror of war already begun.

If I had to put a "Binary Sunset" moment in the prequels, that's where I'd put it and who I'd give it to. Young Luke still has an entire heroic future ahead of him, but young Padmé is going to helplessly watch everything she cares about be destroyed by powers far greater than her.

[xo100]

Collisions and connections - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: While mountain biking in Germany with friends, you accidentally fall and cause none other than Lando Norris to crash into you. Though he's frustrated at first, the tension quickly turns into playful banter as you ride together. By the end of the day, Lando invites you to go karting with him, leaving you with an unexpected, flirty connection.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2535

masterlist / community / request

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Germany was always on your friend group’s list of adventure destinations, and today was no exception. The sky was a vibrant blue, with a scattering of white clouds drifting lazily above the dense woods. You had rented mountain bikes for the day, ready to tackle the scenic yet thrilling trails that cut through the forest. The air was filled with a crisp freshness that begged to be explored, and you and your friends were more than ready to answer the call.

After renting the bikes, you all gathered around the man who ran the rental service. He looked rugged, like someone who had spent countless days in the wilderness, and his experience showed. He gave a quick but detailed briefing on how to handle the trails, adjust the gears, and keep balance on uneven terrain. It all seemed straightforward, and the excitement in your group was palpable.

“Medium parkour it is, then!” your best friend, Mia, had announced with a grin, gesturing to the map of trails. It wasn’t the easiest route, but definitely manageable. A perfect mix of challenge and fun, with paths winding through the thick woods and just enough obstacles to keep things interesting.

So, there you were, cycling through the forest with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cool wind whipped past, making the trees blur as you sped through the trail. You were at the back, lagging a bit behind, but you didn't mind. You were enjoying the ride, taking in the sights, the sounds of nature mixed with the whirr of bike wheels over dirt and rocks.

Everything was going perfectly, until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Mia slammed on her brakes ahead of you to avoid a tricky curve. You reacted instinctively, jamming your brakes hard, but it was too late. The sudden stop sent you flying, tumbling over your handlebars, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, tangled up in your bike. A dull pain shot through your leg, but it wasn’t unbearable. The worst part was the embarrassment. You tried to quickly untangle yourself, hoping no one had noticed—your friends were already too far ahead to hear the commotion.

But someone did notice.

Before you could fully recover, a loud thud sounded behind you. The weight of another body landed just inches away, and when you looked up, you were met with the sight of a guy sprawled on the ground, his bike fallen to the side. His face was hidden beneath his helmet at first, but his groan of frustration was unmistakable.

“What the hell?” His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.

You scrambled to get up, wincing as you did, and turned to apologize. But when you saw who had fallen behind you, your heart nearly stopped.

Lando Norris. The Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver. You’d recognize him anywhere, even with the helmet.

“Oh my God,” you stammered, eyes wide, “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—my friend, she just—“

He stood up, dusting himself off, and as he removed his helmet, his expression was nothing short of annoyed. His messy brown hair was slightly damp from the ride, and his hazel eyes met yours, sharp but surprised. He was about to say something, but then he paused, his anger seemingly dissipating as he took in the sight of you, flustered and apologetic.

“You—“ he started, but stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I didn’t either,” you admitted, wincing as you tried to stand. The fall had left you with a few scrapes, but you were mostly fine. “Are you okay?”

Lando glanced down at himself, and then at his bike. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of a... surprise collision.”

You couldn't help but let out a small, nervous laugh, despite the situation. “I didn’t expect to cause a Formula 1 driver to crash. That's definitely not on my bucket list.”

His lips twitched at that, a faint smile appearing. “Well, at least it wasn’t in a car. That’d be much worse.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut through the scene. “Lando, mate, you alright?” A group of guys, his friends no doubt, appeared just behind him, all dressed in similar biking gear.

Lando waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little hiccup.”

One of them gave you a sympathetic look. “That looked like a rough fall. You alright?”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, still feeling a bit mortified.

Lando glanced at you, and there was something softer in his eyes now, like his frustration had melted away. “Need help with your bike?”

“I think I can manage,” you said, but as you tried to lift it, a sharp pain in your ankle made you wince.

Lando noticed immediately. “You sure? Looks like that fall did more than just bruise your pride.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but there was a playfulness to his tone that eased your nerves. “Fine. Maybe a little help.”

He knelt down, making quick work of untangling the bike and helping you to your feet. As he steadied you, his hand lingered on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary. The warmth of his touch sent a little flutter through your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “Good as new. Well, almost.”

You laughed lightly. “Thanks. I’m really sorry again, though. I didn’t mean to ruin your ride.”

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips now. “Guess it wasn’t all your fault. These things happen, right?”

His friends, seeing the situation was under control, started riding off slowly, leaving you and Lando a bit of space. He glanced back at them before turning to you again. “You sure you're okay to keep going?”

You tested your ankle, wincing a little but feeling mostly fine. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just might take it slower from here.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because I’m already going slow, and you still managed to take me down.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes now, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey! You were the one right behind me,” you shot back, smiling. “Maybe you're not as fast off the track as you think.”

He laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh that made the tension between you fade completely. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the sounds of the forest surrounding you. You could hear your friends further down the trail, but for some reason, you weren’t in a rush to catch up.

Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you. “So, what brings you and your friends out here? Just looking for some adrenaline?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We’re always up for an adventure,” you replied, leaning against your bike. “And Germany seemed like a good place to do that.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good choice. Though, maybe next time, avoid taking out unsuspecting riders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Noted.”

There was something easy about being around him now, even though moments before, you had been sure he’d be furious. But Lando was clearly the kind of guy who didn’t let things like this get to him for long. In fact, now that the initial shock had worn off, it seemed like he was enjoying the banter as much as you were.

“Well,” he said, glancing down the trail, “if you need someone to keep an eye on you so you don’t wipe out again, I’m happy to volunteer.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s in it for you?”

He grinned. “I get to say I saved the girl who made me crash.”

“Saved me, huh? Pretty sure I would’ve been fine without you.”

He leaned in just slightly, his smile turning a bit more teasing. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle flirtation, and you found yourself grinning back. “Alright, Norris. Try to keep up.”

With that, you pushed off, slowly starting down the trail again. And this time, when Lando followed, he stayed right beside you.

-

Lando stayed close by your side as you both navigated the trail at a slower pace. The tension from your earlier crash had dissolved completely, leaving behind an unexpected sense of ease between the two of you. It felt strange, like you had known him longer than just a few moments. You had expected some awkwardness, given that he was famous and you had, quite literally, knocked him off his bike. But instead, the playful banter flowed effortlessly, and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

“So,” Lando said, breaking the silence as you both rode through a section of the forest bathed in dappled sunlight, “is this what you and your friends do on a regular basis? Traveling the world, causing accidents?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not usually. We're always up for an adventure, though. This time, it just happened to involve bikes... and, well, unplanned collisions.”

“Right,” he replied, his voice laced with teasing. “I’d say it’s a memorable introduction.”

You looked over at him, catching the smirk on his face. “Is that your way of saying you’re not mad about it anymore?”

He shrugged playfully. “I mean, it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve got someone as charming as you apologizing.”

You shot him a look, pretending to be skeptical. “Charming, huh? I’m sure you say that to all the girls who make you fall off your bike.”

His grin widened, and he slowed his pace to match yours as you hit a steeper incline. “No, just the ones who make me laugh afterward.”

Your heart fluttered slightly at the compliment, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. It was a bit surreal to be here, biking through the German woods with Lando Norris—flirting, no less. But as surprising as it was, it also felt strangely natural.

You reached a flat part of the trail, and Lando nudged his bike a little closer to yours. “I never caught your name, by the way,” he said, glancing sideways at you.

“It’s y/n,” you replied, looking over at him. “And you’re Lando. Not that you need an introduction.”

He chuckled. “I figured you knew that part. But hey, I like hearing it from you.”

There was a brief pause as the two of you continued, and you noticed the distant sound of your friends’ voices up ahead. You probably should’ve been catching up, but the longer you rode alongside Lando, the less you cared about rushing back to your group. The trail wasn’t too crowded at this point, giving you and Lando plenty of space to continue at your own pace.

“So, what’s next for you and your adventure squad?” Lando asked, throwing a glance toward the path ahead. “More mountain biking, or something less... crash-prone?”

“Definitely not mountain biking again,” you joked, laughing. “At least not for a while. I think after this, we’re headed to Berlin. You know, something more touristy, less likely to involve hospital visits.”

He laughed along with you, shaking his head. “Probably a smart move. Though, if you want to keep the adventure going, I’ve got some suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, you seem like the type who’d be into karting,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “And I just happen to know my way around a kart track.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of surprise. “Wow, what a coincidence! I bet you’re really fast too, huh?”

He grinned, leaning a little closer as you both slowed down again. “I’ve been known to have a bit of speed. Think you could keep up?”

You pretended to think it over. “Maybe. Or, I’ll just make you crash again.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe your audacity. “You’re ruthless, aren’t you?”

“Only when necessary,” you shot back with a grin, feeling the easy warmth between you both growing with each playful exchange.

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, the trees and sunlight providing a calming backdrop. You could hear the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves, and for a moment, it was just you and Lando, side by side, enjoying the simplicity of the ride.

Eventually, though, the voices of your friends grew louder, and you spotted them waiting at a clearing up ahead. Mia waved when she saw you, her expression a mix of concern and relief.

“There you are!” she called out as you approached. “We were about to come back and look for you!”

You smiled sheepishly as you stopped beside them. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, had a bit of a fall.”

Lando, who had pulled up beside you, shot Mia a look. “More like she caused me to fall.”

Mia’s eyes widened in recognition as she took in who was standing next to you. “Wait... are you—?”

“Lando Norris,” he confirmed with a small smirk. “Long story, but yeah, she took me out on the trail.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, and your other friends looked equally stunned. But before anyone could freak out too much, Lando waved it off. “It’s all good. We both survived.”

You laughed, giving your friends a reassuring nod. “Yeah, no major injuries. Just a little pride lost.”

“Wow,” Mia muttered, still processing everything. “This is insane.”

Lando just grinned, glancing over at you. “It’s been... interesting, for sure.”

As your friends began gathering their things, preparing to head off again, Lando turned to you, his voice lowering slightly. “Hey, before you go...”

You looked up at him, curious. “Yeah?”

“How about that karting I mentioned?” His eyes twinkled with that same playful glint. “I’m sticking around in Germany for a few more days. I could give you a proper lesson—on a track, where we won’t crash.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You really want me to embarrass myself again, don’t you?”

Lando shook his head, his smile widening. “No, I just want to see if you can keep up this time.”

You bit your lip, considering it for a moment. “Alright, fine. You’re on.”

His grin was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back, ready to rejoin his own group. “I’ll find a way to contact you,” he said, flashing one last look over his shoulder as he rode off. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

You watched him disappear down the trail, a mix of excitement and disbelief swirling inside you. Meeting Lando Norris had been completely unexpected, but now, the thought of seeing him again—this time on a kart track—was even more thrilling.

Your friends were buzzing with questions and comments as you all started riding again, but your mind kept drifting back to Lando. You had started the day thinking it would be just another adventure with your friends, but somehow, it had turned into something even better.

And if you were lucky, it was only the beginning.

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*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!