#its been a month or so since i modelled that and i have gotten better so i want to try again with no time crunch + pressure

[heartorbit]

a mob of emus for an artstyle game on twt! ^_^

[lqvesoph]

Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-nymph

[foreverdolly]

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: you’re hoping to make a good impression on your new boss. there’s just one problem: he’s an asshole. a very hot asshole.

pairings: boss!austin x employee!reader

word count: 2.2k

warning/notes: you guys have begged for more fake dating, so here it is. the beginning of what will be the end. this love story is adorable, and their dynamic is my absolute favorite. can't wait to post part three in the next week.

↰ previous part | next part ↱

“Well I heard he’s quite the looker.” Sophia mumbled under her breath, practically jogging to keep up with your long strides. The last thing you wanted was to be late for the big floor meeting, especially since you were about to be introduced to your new boss. That would be the icing on the shitty cake. Still, you refused to let this morning's parking ticket ruin your good mood. 

“Who said that? Nobody aside from Jeff has seen him, and that was only to finalize his paperwork.” One of the plant's leaves slapped you in the face as you began climbing the stairs, and with a groan you tucked the pot a little closer to your side, freeing up your vision so that you wouldn’t fall forward and bust your ass. You had picked up a little welcome gift for the newbie last night during your trip to the grocery store. It was only once you had gotten home that you realized that the plant didn’t have any plastic marker that stated its “preferences”. You hoped your newfound boss wouldn’t mind doing some googling in order to take care of his new greenery. Thankfully the man would be getting one of the nicer offices, which meant he’d have window space. 

“Martha from the first floor. She greeted him last week when he ran by to sign some papers.” Sophia was already out of breath from quickly climbing the stairs, muttering a few curse words as she tried to keep up with you and your fast pace. 

Martha was also a fifty year old crazy cat lady, so her saying that the mystery man was “handsome” meant nothing to you. If anything you were even more suspect about his good looks than you had been before. You let out a breathy laugh, freeing up one of your hands to open up the door for your best friend. 

“Martha also thinks that the mail delivery guy is a “looker”, and that guy has a receding hairline and buck teeth.” You were quick to fire back. 

Sophia looked like she wanted to argue, but stopped herself, a thoughtful look befalling her face. “Yeah. . . no, you’re totally right. Why didn’t I think of that? He’s probably going to have two heads.” 

You laughed loudly at that, turning to face your best friend as you continued the familiar walk to the conference room. “He’s probably bald- oof!” You grunted as you walked into a solid chest, the potted plant nearly flying out of your grasp. 

The person that you bumped into moved lightening fast, strong arms coming to wrap around both the pot and your arms. A little bit of dirt fell on the ground, and as you stared down at it you began to feel sorry for Javie, the janitor. You loved that tiny man. Behind you Sophia sucked in a breath, though you were too embarrassed to really pay attention to anything else other than the stranger’s dirt covered sleeve. You reached out, brushing off their nice- very expensive- blazer. 

“God, I should have been paying better attention to where I was walking. I’m so sorry.” You apologized, looking up at who you thought was Jeff. 

Because this person was practically a giant compared to most of the people on this floor, and the outfit and shoes? That was at least two months worth of your pay- if not more. Designer, no doubt. When you looked up, rather than meeting Jeff’s familiar brown eyes- you were met with blue. 

And there he was, in all of his glory. Him being “quite the looker” was the understatement of the century. This man was a model. His wire rimmed glasses did nothing to make him look boyish. The stranger in front of you was all man. For a few seconds all the two of you did was stare at each other. The blonde looked just as stunned as you did, his plush lips softly parted, eyes wide as he took in your features. After a moment he cleared his throat, his jaw clenching as he must have realized that the two of you were blocking hallway traffic, his hands still firmly wrapped around you. 

“We’re about to be late for the meeting.” He took a step back, and the loss of his firm grip on your arm nearly took your breath away.

Within seconds his warm, even soft blue eyes had hardened, his outwardly caring exterior turning ice cold. You tossed a look behind you at Sophia, dropping your jaw animatedly only for her to see before moving quickly to fall in step next to your new boss. “I’m so sorry about your blazer. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning-” 

He was already unbuttoning the soiled jacket, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders so that he was only standing in his crisp button up shirt and tie. His waist was narrow, accentuated by his belt. You could tell he was fit underneath all of those clothes. You hated yourself for it, but you were practically drooling. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just work hard for me from now on and we’ll call it even. Yeah?” He cut his eyes over towards you, and though you wanted to shrink under his gaze you merely held your head high and nodded. You were above outwardly fawning over the new guy. 

You weren’t, however, above silently crushing from afar. 

The man commanded the room unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Everything about his posture, his broad shoulders, and the surety of his actions told you that he meant business. Everybody stayed mostly silent as he introduced himself. Austin Butler. He looked like an Austin, you supposed. As he spoke you tried to rearrange the dirt in the pot with your fingers, smoothing it out so that it no longer looked ruined. The card in your purse suddenly seemed like overkill. You wanted him to think that you were nice, not a kiss ass. Then again, you needed to fix the horrible impression you had no doubt left him with earlier. He breezed out of the room the second that he was finished with the meeting, seemingly in a hurry to rid himself of the crowded room. Jeff was nowhere to be seen, but he had sent you an email earlier stating that he might be late coming back from lunch. His wife was out of town and their beloved cat, Mr Samson, hadn’t been eating well over the last week. You stood up, addressing the room with a bright smile. 

“Alright everyone, Jeff is going to be busy for the rest of the day, meaning you’ll either report directly to me or Mr Butler. Jenna? Can you drop by my cubicle before you leave today? I’ve got that Henderson file for you.” The blonde nodded, lazily joining the crowd as they dispersed out of the room. For a second you stood at the head of the long table, your eyes nervously darting back over to Sophia. 

“Thank god I work the payroll. I’d probably have a heart attack if I had to talk to Austin every day.” She mumbled, pretending to fan herself. 

You grabbed the plant off of the table, straightening out your shoulders as you walked over towards the door. “Well- let’s just hope that I didn’t fuck it up already. The last thing I need is for the guy to hate me.” 

You waved your goodbyes before heading straight towards the once unoccupied office. There were a few boxes on the floor, but there weren’t any decorations up yet. No pictures of wives or children, which you hoped meant that he was single. Not like you wanted to date him. . . just ogle from afar. You knocked on the open door, ducking your head in to shoot him one of your dazzling smiles. It usually worked on everyone. Almost everyone. Austin didn’t smile back. 

Your heart rate began to pick up as you held the plant up, giving it a gentle shake before placing it on the edge of his spotless desk. 

“It’s a little bit ironic, but I bought this for you. Consider it a welcome gift from me and my team.” Before he could say anything else, you were already digging into your purse, handing over the card too. 

He slowly took it from you, shooting you an incredulous look before opening it. You weren’t sure why. . . but his standoffish attitude was rubbing you the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that he was outwardly perfect. You should have expected him to be rude. Pretty people are often rotten on the inside. You cleared your throat, pointing at the card. 

“Just a few words of encouragement. I thought it might make you feel a little more comfortable around all of these new faces. If you ever nee-” 

And then he did it. Did this thing. 

He sighed. He sighed like you were bothering him. Like your presence was a nuisance. Your face fell, your teeth clenched, and all at once you decided that you couldn’t stand Austin Butler. He was blowing you off. Shrugging off your kind gestures. Your unnecessarily kind gestures. Your hands balled up into fists at your sides as you tried to fight off the urge to slap the glasses right off of his pretty-boy face. 

“I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m really busy at the moment.” He was cool guying you. He was totally fucking cool guying you right now. 

“Oh,” Your voice had lowered an octave, shaking with anger. He seemed to notice, his eyes quickly flickering up to meet your face. “I can see that I came at the wrong time.”

You started to walk out of the office, flinching back slightly as you saw Jeff headed towards you with a bright smile. You were heatedly walking off in the direction of your cubicle before the older man could say anything to you. 

It was decided. Set in stone. 

You hated Austin Butler with a passion. 

“Well, what was that about?” Jeff closed the door behind him, nodding off in the direction of the female. 

Austin read over the name again and again, signed in her adorable handwriting. He let out another sigh, tossing the card down onto his desk before he covered his face with his hands. 

“I don’t know. I panicked. Shit, now she thinks I’m an asshole.” His office chair creaked as he leaned back, praying that the floor would swallow him up. 

He had been so overwhelmed in the meeting. He probably came off as cold, which was exactly what he didn’t want to do. His anxiety had gotten the best of him today, and you were proof. Because he had seen you in the hall before you bumped into him. He could have prevented all of that from happening. And how could he not see you? He had been so focused on your button up blouse and form fitting pencil skirt that he had forgotten how to function. And then he learns that not only are you working on the same floor, but working directly under him. Meaning that he would have to talk to you. Every day. Austin didn’t do crushes. He was a workaholic. He was the king of heating up leftovers and eating alone every night. He was too busy for relationships, so it shouldn’t matter that the prettiest girl he had ever seen was just a stone's throw away from him. Right? Right? 

“Well, you’re screwed now.” Jeff smiled smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the door. 

Austin’s heart jumped up to his throat, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a sentence. He looked like an idiot. 

“W-What do you mean? I’m screwed? Do you think she hates me? Already?” 

Jeff opened the door a crack, peeking his head out. Austin was quick to stand up from his desk, joining him by the door. And there you were, tossing your purse onto your desk like the inanimate object had personally offended you. He had the perfect view of you from his office. He was doomed. Jeff watched her for a few more seconds before clicking his tongue. 

“. . . Oh, definitely.” 

Austin tore the glasses off of his face, tossing them down onto his desk so that he could rub at his eyes exasperatedly. 

“How do I fix it? God. . . Should I go out there right now?” Austin motioned towards the door with one hand, loosening his tie with the other. It felt like it was choking him. 

“Take her out on a date.” Jeff was smiling smugly again, shaking his head in pretend disapproval. “I can’t believe you already offended the most hot headed female that I’ve ever met. I was gone for an hour.” 

Austin sucked in a breath, his knees buckling underneath him. He had to lean against the desk for support. “I’m not going to take her on a date. I’m her boss, Jeff.” The younger male practically gasped. 

Jeff opened the door, leaving the boy with some parting words.  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Butler. I give it. . . six months. You’ll see.”

@knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! Can you talk about your experience going from Absentia to Oculus? That process after Absentia went on its festival run to pitching Oculus? Would love to learn about that time in your life & career!

I moved to Los Angeles in 2003, right after I graduated college. I went to Towson University in Maryland, was an EMF major (Electronic Media & Film) and had wanted nothing more than to make movies my whole life. We were a comfortable middle class military family (my dad was in the Coast Guard) and for most of my life, making movies for a living felt like an impossible dream.

When I moved to LA I took whatever work I could find. I shot and edited those local car commercials you see on TV at 2am, I was a logger and an AE for reality TV shows, and I eventually worked my way to editing.

I said I'd give myself 5 years to make it in Hollwood. By the time we shot Absentia, I'd been here for 7 years, and in that time I hadn't gotten any closer to my dream.

I've already written at length about how Absentia came along and what it was like to make that little movie, and I've recently blogged about how the Oculus premiere changed my life and birthed my career, so I won't rehash those - but I don't often talk about what went on in between.

I finished editing Absentia just before my oldest son was born in 2010, and went back to working full-time as a reality TV editor. In fact, in the months leading up to his birth, I was working double-time - I spent my days at a company called Film Garden working on a series for DIY Network, and my nights editing packages at Nash Entertainment for those true crime clip shows. Whatever it took to keep the lights on and provide as much support as I could for my son.

While this was happening, I'd submitted Absentia to a pile of film festivals. We didn't get into any of the majors - Sundance, SXSW, and Toronto all passed on the film. Our world premiere was at the Fargo Film Festival, where Tom Brandau, one of my former professors from Towson - and one of my mentors - was teaching.

(Our original festival poster, WAY better than the weird clip art that would come later)

The movie got into a fair amount of film festivals, and we traveled with it as much as we could. I have fond memories of the Phoenix Film Festival, San Luis Obispo (where I met Greg Kinnear at a party and very awkwardly asked for a picture - you can see how thrilled he is about it) and my personal favorite: the Fantastia Film Festival in Montreal.

(At one of the screenings, I believe the San Luis Obispo Film Festival)

While this was happening, the film was picked up for a tiny VOD and DVD release through Phase 4 Films.

They were a Canadian distribution company whose claim to fame was putting out Kevin Smith's Red State under a very unusual distribution model. They acquired the movie, which led to a company holiday part in Hollywood.

There, I briefly met Kevin Smith for the first time. We've met again since, and I've now had a chance to thank him for the kindness he showed me back then - I was just some starstruck kid at a party, but he was gracious and available and inspiring. I really admire the way Kevin deals with his fans, and I've tried to emulate it over the years.

So that was kind of it for Absentia. We went to a few festivals, went to a few parties, and posed for a few pictures with some people we admired. Phase 4 designed some truly godawful cover art, dropped the movie into video stores, and that was that.

($2.99 is a pretty good deal)

So Absentia had pretty much run its course. It had a passionate following of fans, but between the crappy art design and glut of low budget horror films on the market, its moment had already come and gone. I was back at work, editing a series for DIY Network called Extra Yardage, and yearning for another chance to make a movie.

Absentia might not have broken open the industry doors like I'd wanted it to, but one thing it did yield was a meeting with an entertainment attorney named Joel VanderKloot.

I had been represented a few times over the years by various managers (to be honest, they were actually Jeff Howard's managers, and they took me on because we had a co-written project together.) But those relationships hadn't gone anywhere, I'd never sold a script or booked a job, and when I suggested making Absentia they were not supportive ("You've already tried the indie thing, haven't you?") so by the time Absentia was made, I was completely unrepped.

Joel was a family friend of Jason Poh, who was one of our Absentia Kickstarter backers. He was a guy who'd just found the project online and donated a thousand bucks. He kept up with us, and loved the final movie. He told me he knew an entertainment lawyer and offered to arrange a lunch.

I left my editing job at Film Garden for a long lunch and met Joel in Santa Monica (this was a day-killing drive for me). Joel had seen the movie and really liked it. We had a good lunch, but wasn't immediately sure about taking me on - it's a lot of work to take on a new client, and there wasn't much heat on my movie. But there was something there that he liked, and he called later that day to say he would take me on as a client.

I was elated. I felt like I'd made my movie to the best of my ability, and that it had flashed in the pan and then died... no one had noticed outside of a few festival audiences and critics. But here was someone who worked in the industry and he saw something in the film that he believed in.

Joel started looking for managers while I clung to my day job. He passed the movie around and we had a few nibbles, which led to the first manager in my career who wanted to simply represent ME: Nicholas Bogner.

Bogner went about setting general meetings at production companies who specialized in horror films. There weren't a lot of takers, and not everyone was willing to watch an entire feature film in consideration of a general meeting. So it was hit or miss - I was a nobody, after all, and they get these kinds of incoming inquiries all the time.

But there were a few takers. And the very first meeting I had was with Anil Kurian at Intrepid Pictures.

Again, I took an extended lunch from my editing job and drove across town to Intrepid's offices in Santa Monica. I was beyond nervous when I sat in the waiting room. The young man working the front desk signed me in and offered me a water. And then, just before the meeting started, he leaned over and he said "I loved Absentia, by the way."

Anil was a really cool executive and we had a good general meeting. At the end of it, he introduced me to the heads of Intrepid: Marc Evans, and Trevor Macy.

We all ended up in the conference room, where posters for Intrepid's other movies - at that time, The Strangers and The Raven - were hanging. I vividly remember staring at them while I pitched all five of the ideas I had for movies.

One of them was a story about a little boy whose dreams manifested in real life, and another was a take on Stephen King's novel Gerald's Game. But at the time, none of these ideas worked. The meeting was over, and everyone was politely going about their day.

I felt a panic in me. It was my first real meeting, the door had been cracked open just an inch by Absentia, and I was about to walk away with nothing. Would my new manager want to keep me? Would my new lawyer think he was wasting his time?

I stopped in the doorway and turned back. "I've got one other thing," I said. "I made a short years ago about a haunted mirror, and I have a take for a feature."

They kind of laughed at the idea of a haunted mirror. "How do you make that scary?" Trevor asked. I said "Think of it like a portable Overlook Hotel," and the room got a little quieter.

"I'd like to see that short," Trevor said. I agreed to send it immediately.

I ran back to work, stayed a few hours late to make up the time I'd burned on my lunch hour, and went home to find a DVD copy of Oculus: The Man with the Plan.

I'd made that short in 2005. It was 20 mins long, and a lot of fun. Over the years whenever I'd get into meetings (all courtesy of Jeff Howard, who had sold scripts long before we started writing together), people would see it and ask about a feature. Every time, though, the conversation stalled because they wanted the film to be a found footage movie, or they'd balk at the idea of me directing a feature.

I sent the DVD to Intrepid and waited. About a week later, they called and asked me to come back in.

I took another long lunch (this would become quite a habit as the project advanced) and drove back down. We met again in the conference room, but this time the mood was a little different.

Trevor said "We're interested in this. How would you expand it? I know there are cameras in the room with the man and the mirror, which begs the question of found footage..."

My heart sank.

"... but we're thinking that's a mistake. It looks like all the fun is in playing with reality, and you can't do that with found footage. So how would you do it?"

And we were off.

I won't rehash the long journey between this meeting and the Oculus premiere at Toronto (scroll down to find another blog about that), but that was really the moment when things changed.

I drove back to work a little giddy. Intrepid optioned the short film, I called Jeff Howard to see if he'd still want to work on a feature with me, and we were commissioned to write the script.

It was my first Hollywood job. I was paid the bare minimum, but I was also able to join the WGA because of the deal. I still didn't quit my day job (and wouldn't for a long time, not until the movie was really shooting in Alabama the following year) but I was off to the races.

Once the script was done, Oculus would lead to my first agents (at APA, and they treated me very well) and my first "real" movie.

What's particularly neat about this time, looking back, is that I owe it all to Absentia. We'd made this tiny little movie to try to kick open the door of Hollywood and start a career. And despite the enormous pride I had in the finished film, it felt for a long time like it hadn't quite succeeded in that.

But quietly, subtly, the movie did exactly what I hoped it would. The festival screenings built up a small but confident word of mouth. The movie led directly to my attorney Joel (who still represents me to this day), which led directly to my first real representation, which led directly to Intrepid Pictures.

Trevor Macy is now my business partner and has produced every single thing I've ever made since. We run Intrepid Pictures together, and I see that same eagerness in the faces of young filmmakers who find their way to us for general meetings. I try to be as supportive and accessible to them as I possibly can, because I remember very well what it feels like to stand in their shoes.

And Trevor even ended up making those other pitches he'd rejected all those years ago - Before I Wake and Gerald's Game followed soon after Oculus was done.

Absentia did everything I could have wanted it to do, and much more. I'll always remember that period of time with great affection... but man, it was stressful. The uncertainty of those years still exists in me, I don't think it'll ever leave.

Someone told me, along the way, that there wouldn't be a moment when I realized I "made it." It would happen while I wasn't looking. That ended up being absolutely true.

[howdy-folks-its-showtime]

It's Showtime! - June 2024 Devlog

Howdy! Cobalt here, for another devlog over It's Showtime. This month was actually really swell, especially since I got more of my adhd meds recently. So I should be getting way more done in the coming months, yippee!

Programming wise, not a lot was done this month I've mostly spent it changing a few things about the way the map is built. Particularly I'm gonna need to rebuild most of the first floor. However in the long run it should be for the better, for stuff like performance and making it easier to add more to it. I also just needed a break after all I did last month. I have created things like the base for the main menu, a proper testing room and a lot of coding for the cut scene system though!

Writing wise, a ton of progress was made. Most of the major writing for Chapter 1 is done! Or at least on a great first draft. So very soon Chapter 1 will be done writing wise. [For the record currently the in depth writing for Chapter 1 is 7,122 words long] Chapter 2 also had a significant amount of its in depth writing done, almost all of the 'intro' is written out but obviously I'm trying to focus more on Chapter 1 right now. Speaking of the other chapters and such. Chapter 2's summary is almost done, with some things just needing some elaborating or bridging with other parts of it. Chapter 3 has 3 thousand words written in its summary currently, so a lot of what goes on in that chapter has been written out. I recently had a ton of revelations about what is going to happen in Chapter 4 and Chapter 5 has also had a lot added to its summary. Sadly, writing wise, I simply cannot reveal much more without getting into spoilers.

I've also been learning Blender a lot lately. I'm working on a few models, none of them for It's Showtime quite yet. [well besides the walls and floors for the first floor] However soon I'm gonna be trying to make Henry's first model and animations for the game. Probably won't be the final one used for the project, or even the one you'll see upon chapter 1's release, but we'll see. Sadly, a lot of this process is simply tutorials and looking things up, then double checking those things to make sure they can be used in Unity, aren't performance heavy and will work with the systems I've already got in place. Art wise, me and my partner have gotten a lot of fun concept art done.

We've also started a sketchbook purely for Encore! related drawings. We've got so much fun stuff to show you guys when more is done, but for now, I'd love to show off a proper look at Henry's design.

Here we have Henry's reference, specifically for his in-game appearance.

The sketchy reference made for modeling him out. Yes, he is tastefully nude in this appearance. That's just the way it has to be.

Then finally a rough run cycle I animated to show off his character and as practice for when the proper 3D gets made. I'm really proud of how this came out and I hope it gives you guys a good idea for what to expect from him character-wise. As always, feel free to ask any questions about this project and its story if you'd like. I'll do my best to answer them without giving too much away! See you next month!

[hummingbird-of-light]

June of Doom 2024 Day 12 (@juneofdoom)

12. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”       

| Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

~

Montgomery "Scotty" Scott didn't know where he was or how he had gotten to this place. It was a dark and empty place and his body was floating in the center of it. Scotty had no control over what was happening to him. And that made him feel just awful.

All the Scotsman knew was that he was freezing and that he just wanted to sleep. It was really strange because actually, Scotty thought to himself, it felt like his body had been asleep for a long time. But his mind just couldn't rest.

He was incredibly exhausted, but something inside him was vehemently resisting finally switching off his mind.

Scotty wasn't sure exactly what it was. Maybe it was the urge to find out what had happened to him? Maybe he wanted to know where he was? Or perhaps it was the voice that kept coming to his ears, somehow making its way through the darkness.

Scotty knew it. It was incredibly familiar, but he just didn't know who it belonged to.

'Hey, Monty. It's me again.'

It was a warm and soft voice. Scotty found it incredibly pleasant, because it managed to make him feel at least a little more secure and better.

The voice asked him many questions. How he was feeling today. If he was in pain. How much longer he intended to sleep. And the Scotsman would have loved to answer, but his body simply wasn't strong enough for that.

'I ... thought ye might like to hear a few articles about the latest car models. Mum said that it's completely crazy after ... everything that's happened, but I know ye better. Ye are and always will be a car freak.'

Was he? Was Montgomery Scott interested in cars?

A strange shiver went through his body as an image appeared before his inner eye.

He was sitting at the wheel of a car and almost pressing the accelerator pedal to the floor. Wild cries of joy escaped his mouth and he laughed, feeling freer than ever before. Sitting next to him was another person who didn't seem quite as enthusiastic as he was, but was still smiling gently.

'I'll ... just read ye a bit, yeah? A lot has happened in the last few months.'

The warm voice began to read, but with each paragraph it broke more and more until finally only sobbing could be heard. It filled Scotty's heart with sorrow to hear it.

'I'm sorry, Monty. I-I cannae do this. Why was I so stupid? Why didn't I stop ye from taking part in that stupid street race?'

More images appeared in front of Scotty.

He saw the needle on the speedometer rise faster and faster. The feeling of freedom grew bigger and bigger and he screamed with happiness, but suddenly he lost control. There was that tree. And then ... there was nothing.

'Ye're in a coma because I didn't help ye. I cannae stand seeing ye like this. If only I'd seen how bad ye've really been since Dad died. If I had understood that ye were only tuning cars and racing because ye couldn't cope with the situation, I would have–"

The voice. The person who had been in the car with him. It was Robbie. It was Scotty's little brother. The Scotsman's heart broke at this realization. How had he not realized it sooner? How had he not seen that the person visiting him every single day was his poor, wee brother?

'Why the hell don't ye just wake up? I just want to tell ye that ... I'm sorry!'

Robbie. He blamed himself for something that wasn't his fault. He blamed himself for something Scotty had messed up. It just wasn't right. It wasn't fair!

And as hard as it was for him, as much as he longed for sleep and rest, Scotty realized in that moment that he had to keep on fighting. He had to try to wake up. For his brother. No matter how long it took, he wouldn't give up. Never.

[emmebearpaw]

Ok you know. This Olive fic was shorter than I hoped it was going to be but I've gotten to a point where I would do a big 'ol time skip and a lot of my thoughts about this version of Olive are more... disjointed scenes. I also kind of want to go play video games instead of doing more writing so uh, posting time! Consider this a nice intro to drop some exposition and try to ease you into the world i'm thinking about right now I suppose. I'll definitely write more for Olive here soon.

Word Count: ~1075

The Web was full of very strange rules. Strange being the operative word. Because Olive did not understand the explanations behind them. You could only send 280 letters in a call on Birdcall. Cats are the funniest animals and must have funny memes made about them. There was acronyms for everything. And most notably in this situation,

"There isn't actually a rule that says a vtuber has to play video games. Besides. Sudoku can be a video game if I play it on my Webporter." She laughed, scrolling back up her busier than average (a whole 7 people watching!) chat to see the commenter's name. "Yup, definitely don't recognize that username, welcome to the Labyrinth, punkstrife. Since your new here, allow me to explain, it's hard to get a Webporter down into my labyrinth so the one I'm using is uh... a teensy bit old!" Olive hit one of her hotkeys and watched the expression on her model change in the stream preview. Her carefully crafted png-tuber persona being her best edit of the Minotaur's skull placed upon an anime girl body, with a posted note slapped onto the skull so she toggle the expression to one of the many emoticons she had learned over the last several months. Certainly it wasn't as cool as the moving models of other streamers she had watched but, her posted note could go :p, or any other infinite amount of emotions, which was good enough for her. "Luckily the Web is full of many fun things to do!!" ^-^ "Like reading Wikipedia! Anyways don't mind any birds you can hear, I keep birds and they've been a bit noisy recently!"

Her chat scrolled by a bit as she got a drink of water. One of the rules of streaming was that you are supposed to read chat. And besides, having people to talk to is the reason she was streaming, so... >Asterius is a nerd lol >fresh blood fresh blood >still want to know what birds they are?? >do Byers national park next

Placing the cup down she continued, "Speaking of, let's get back into it. Today's theme is national parks and other nature preserves from around the world, so give suggestions and we can go digitally visit it! We're reading about Acadia National Park right now, but if you want me to learn about one you like  then list it out. We'll all learn about them together!"

---

After another hour she went on break. Frankly she didn't even need to use the bathroom yet. She more so needed to stretch in ways she couldn't do quietly. After all there was no way to get up from the stool without the light scratching of its quills against the kitchen cabinet. She sighed, it probably wouldn't be long before she would have to paint the cabinet to cover up all the scratches it had put in it... and the bathroom door.. and the hole in the mattress from that one time it-- She broke out of the list of things she had to repair again as she reached her destination after 4 whole seconds. The other side of the desk/dining table/kitchen counter. The kitchen of course being the section of the house with the most floor space. Well, besides the bed, but she hadn't washed her feet from when she went out to tend to the birds, and she wasn't going to get the bed dirty just to stretch and she didn't feel like washing them or washing an extra pair of socks later. If only her master could find it some shoes that actually fit its feet. Oh well, that was the rule!

There were, of course, many rules she had to follow to be able to keep living here. Those ones she understood far better than the internet rules, because unlike those ones, her master had been there to explain them. She ran her fingers through her wiry hair as she gently pushed her head down, imagining her master's fingers instead as she explained the oh so important rules that would keep the two of them safe.

The first was the most serious one, her master cooed, "Nobody can know what you look like unless I say that they are safe" she nodded as she changed stretches, because of course "being a familiar can get us both in a lot of trouble if any of the gods ever find out". It chirred in shock, why should the fact it had claws and fur and a big tail and little tiny ears the perfect size for scratch mean it was in trouble? It hadn't even done anything... would it get  in trouble with master  "No no, you've been a very good girl. You aren't in trouble with me at all" She scratched behind its ear.  "Unfortunately, before you were born I did... a few things that made some of the gods very angry at me. And one of those things was making you, because the gods don't like it when humans do magic."

"Meanies" she managed to respond before sticking out her tongue in a childish act of defiance.

She shook her head loose from the memory before moving on to touch her paws. It was that silly silly "no magic" rule of the gods that was the source of all the rules her master had to drill into her. No telling anyone about her, because people definitely shouldn't know that she was a familiar. No mention of the birds her master had stolen from The Garden (at least she could mention there were birds. It was hard to ignore their very loud calls when they thought it was spring). No mention of where they lived because it turns out pocket dimensions were also magic and therefore also illegal.

At least the Web existed. With its strange rules that didn't make sense and infinite things to do and even people to talk to that weren't her master! Not that she didn't love her master, but she had to go and make money so that they could both eat even in the off season. So. She could be a Minotaur. As a treat. After all, as long as she followed all the rules her master told her again and again, nothing would go wrong!

She should probably get back to her stream, shouldn't she?

[loneberry]

Interview on AI / Tech / Poetry / Labor

My writer friend Christopher Soto is interviewing me for a piece on poetry, AI, creative writing, and labor. Most of this is going to be cut, so why not post the first draft here?

*

CS: Recently we went on a hike and were talking about the intersection of literary production and artificial intelligence. You described us as part of “the last generation to experience raw human emotion,” can you elaborate on this idea?

JW: Let me clarify that remark. We’ve been cyborgs and pharmacological hybrids for a long time. I don’t think there’s something like an ideal state of authentic humanness, nor do I think that humanness is better than non-humanness. What I’m referring to is the saturation of distractions, which for me reached a crisis point during the pandemic, when my existence was almost entirely mediated by the internet. Just before the pandemic I had ditched my smartphone for almost a year, but got back on it during quarantine since I was always connected anyway. I became palpably aware of how the very rhythm of my being is regulated by technology designed—using behavioral science research—to be addictive by high-jacking the dopamine reward system. I think people dramatically overstate their “will” and “agency” in relation to technology. 

Being hyper-connected made me feel my emotional life was becoming increasingly shallow, that I was just being numbly-entertained-toward-death, and pharmacologically adjusted to serenely endure this horrific existential condition while the world literally burns. As a poet, I find it very disturbing. For me, being a poet is not necessarily about the production of poetry, but about the training of a certain kind of consciousness: the dilation of perception and emotional states, the sensitization of one’s antennae, the tuning of one’s soul for a greater awareness of the mystery of existence, its splendors and absurdities. 

CS: We have talked about literary production becoming a collaboration with artificial intelligence, so that the writers of tomorrow will essentially be prompt makers and editors, which input prompts into AI and then edit creative works based on the responses provided. What do you think this would mean for the future of literary culture and cultural production? 

JW: I think we could soon reach a point where certain types of writing (screenwriting, journalism, newsletters, web content production) and certain para-literary activities (editing, proofreading, researching) could be fully or partially automated. Some say that the new job that will be created as a result of generative AI and Large Language Models (LLMs) like ChatGPT will be “prompt writer.” There may come a day when plot-driven commercial fiction is written by AI with the help of prompt writers. 

A lot of writers economically support their literary practice through various forms of commercial writing and editing—some of those jobs might disappear. In recent decades, it’s already gotten so difficult to survive economically as a writer. At the same time, it’s gotten hard to survive in general, given how obscenely high rent is these days. You can’t just scrape by on almost nothing and hope it works out at the end of the month by frantically combing your couch cushions and the pockets of dirty jeans for loose change and cash. You need good credit to even rent a place! On a societal level, art suffers when subsistence costs are high—it becomes more commercially driven, and artists become more “professionalized.”  

CS: Do you think that AI will just stay as a mechanism that will help facilitate human writing of poetry but never become “the artist”? I anticipate there will be a shrinking in the distinctions between “the artist” and “the editor.”

JW: I’ve already heard of writers and students using AI to help edit and develop their work, or generate ideas. But I don’t really trust the aesthetic judgment of ChatGPT, ha! 

CS: I’m excited to see the mechanics of literary production transform. You are a bit more hesitant, why so? Are there any AI attempts at literature, which you’ve seen already, that feel particularly noteworthy?

JW: Maybe on some deep level I’m a basic bitch who has a sentimental attachment to the way “writing” has been done for nearly 5,500 years. From cuneiform clay tablets to computer keyboards, the writing process has actually changed very little for thousands of years. It was probably ripe for disruption. But I’m ultimately disturbed by the collective effect it will have on language use—the move toward a statistical norm and the treatment of language as purely informational. I had already started to fret about this when Gmail started autocompleting my emails. (ChatGPT is basically a sophisticated auto-complete that convincingly mimics understanding. This is why it “hallucinates” made-up citations and rattles off fake facts.)

Will the weird, jagged, irregular effusions of language gradually be purged as we drift toward the statistical average? I don’t know, maybe I think of it as something akin to language eugenics. Perhaps I’m hopelessly modernist in my view that language is not about transmitting information or even advancing a plot, but the wayward movement of a thought: the sentence as a technology of consciousness, with its serpentine twists and turns, perverse digressions, and rhythmic pulsations.

I’ve seen AI being used in the conceptual writing and art world for a while now. Some of it is cool and novel in a “party trick” kind of way (like the Twitter poetry bots I followed when I used to use Twitter), but I’ve yet to encounter AI work that I’ve been enamored with. I don’t doubt that AI will (very) soon be able to produce really impressive work,  and that’s partly because it’s parasitic on past human creativity insofar as it’s trained on vast reams of linguistic data generated by humans. 

CS: Can emotion or spontaneity ever be captured by an algorithm? Is there any way in which AI is like the subconscious (making connections between unrelated concepts, juxtaposing words in a way that pleases the ear and mind, using knowledge in unforeseen ways)?

JW: The AI can convincingly mimic emotion. Tell ChatGPT about your problems and you will feel like it really cares, like it’s really listening to you, just like you might feel when you are personally addressed—are interpolated—by the language of advertising written in a voice of concern or understanding.

For nearly a century, artists have used aleatory methods to make connections and generate juxtapositions that get us beyond the limits of human consciousness, whether it’s the surrealist exquisite corpse practice, William S. Burroughs’s cut-up method, or John Cage’s use of the I Ching and other chance methods in his music compositions. AI could certainly be deployed to such ends. Yet LLMs like ChatGPT are designed to be “predictable” in the same way that autocomplete uses probabilities to predict the next word. I think unlocking a weirder side of AI might involve finding ways to break or fuck with it so it doesn’t just generate the mediocrity of the average.

CS: Do you think collaborations between literary artists with artificial intelligence will create a new economy of poetry in the English speaking United States or will it fall into and transform one of the currently existing poetry economies (academia, spoken word, insta poetry)?

JW: How many poets do you know who can support themselves on their poetry alone? I think I know zero. (Maybe Lisa Robertson could count?) Mostly, I know poets who teach in the academy, poets who do astrology, poets who work as editors at publishing houses, poets who have office day jobs, etc. I don’t think AI will change that. Maybe generative AI will create a glut of language that will make poets even more superfluous, ha!

CS: At large, poetry isn’t very lucrative but this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t impact people’s livelihoods still. Why do you think it is important to think specifically about the intersection of poetry and AI?

JW: The thing I love about poetry is its uselessness, the way it is, with a few exceptions, superfluous to capital, difficult to commodify, gratuitous in its insistence on avowing that which has been marked valueless by our hyper-commercial culture. When I think of Sapphic lyrics or Homeric epics, I am reminded that poets once occupied a quite prominent social position, as keepers of history or ceremonial performers. In a culture oriented almost exclusively around lucre, there’s not really a place for poetry. At a dinner party recently I tried to explain “what I do” to entrepreneurs and realized I came across as “quaint,” that what I do will always register as doing nothing to those who use money as a metric to measure the value of a particular activity. Yet at the same time, the intense pressure to perform in our brutally competitive society has generated a hunger for poetry—poetry as a space to preserve the incalculable and restore the part of us that has been destroyed by the soul-crushing dictates of capital. 

On a conceptual level, it’s interesting that the things that make poetry so “difficult” and inaccessible to some people—it’s ambiguity, lack of clearness of meaning, context dependency, and attention to the non-semantic register of signification—is also what has made language such a tricky problem for AI developers. Language isn’t simply a system of rules, which is why the statistical approach beat the linguistic rules-based approach in the natural language processing wars.

CS: What would you consider the start of collaborations between artificial intelligence and poets? I’m thinking about Rupi Kaurs using instapoetry as a closed form that is responsive to algorithmic metrics. By responding to the algorithms that make her poetry go viral, she is in effect collaborating with AI, right? I’m also thinking of Kien Liam’s book “Extinction Theory” that was written with the help of search engine responses. Maybe this depends on our definition of artificial intelligence?

JW: I suppose we’re always collaborating with technology. Since I’ve written most of my works longhand (my first draft of Carceral Capitalism was written on index cards), I often think about how the technology of the computer actually changes the texture of my thinking. Technology can also shape the “form” of writing—think of the way that the character limit of Twitter encodes a particular form. We’ve certainly reached a point where writers are not simply “responding” to AI, but AI is directly shaping the written work.

CS: Do you think AI will influence some literary genres more than others and why? I’m thinking commercial genres like popular non-fiction might be the first to change.

JW: I think writing that is informational (popular non-fiction) or plot-driven is ripe for automation. I don’t know why, but whenever I ask ChatGPT to write poetry or imitate the style of a writer with an idiosyncratic style (Virginia Woolf, W. G. Sebald), the results are atrocious. I’m sure it will improve quickly, though. 

CS: The Writers Guild of America is currently about to strike, in part over how to renegotiate the use of AI in Hollywood. As a scholar of carceral studies, what do you think is an ethical approach to understanding intellectual property and the likeness of an artist, in the era of AI?

JW: Since I’m fundamentally against private property, I’m against intellectual property as well. Yet AI developers use the “fair use” paradigm to claim they are justified in training their systems on copyrighted works. In my ideal world, we would not need to commodify our works in order to eat, but since we live in a market society, we must pay attention to the question of how writers are going to be able to put food on the table. The fact that generative AI is parasitic on the entire archive of human creativity is fundamentally a labor problem. Should AI be allowed to imitate living writers and artists, and will the imitations be commercialized at the expense of living creators? The legal architecture undergirding generative AI hasn’t been worked out yet, but I’m ultimately in favor of enshrining strong labor protections for living creators.

CS: How is AI going to redefine certain concepts, like originality and plagiarism? I think we have already seen some examples of this in the music industry, such as the AI generated songs using the voice of musicians like Drake. In poetry might it look like someone asking AI to create poems in Shakespearean sonnets but with the vernacular of lets say, Maya Angelou?

JW: The voice imitation software trips me out. I started doing research on voice surveillance in early 2019 and tested out some voice mimicking technology then. It was terrible. Now, it can replicate someone’s voice with uncanny accuracy. The technology is evolving so rapidly. 

I don’t feel particularly attached to an idea of originality. Mixing, collaging, generating new things by constellating old things—it’s all part of the creative churn. I love it when art circulates and mixes in a way that is wild and free. But the question of how artists will support themselves when technology enables endless, free replicability is a question that needs to be addressed. 

CS: This opens up the conversation of racial appropriation (and digital Black face) via AI. The literary world has a history of racial imposters. What might this look like when intersecting with AI?

JW: Since AI is ultimately a mimicry-machine, I think this is certainly a risk. I can imagine an author asking ChatGPT to rewrite a chunk of dialogue in, say, Black Vernacular English. (Although as someone who is opposed to the ownership model of culture and in favor of hybridity, I have complicated views on the idea of cultural appropriation in general.)

CS: How do you think the literary community, specifically the awards part of the community, might react if they discover that a writer has been generating their books in collaboration with AI?

JW: I think if it’s done covertly they will treat it as plagiarism rather than collaboration. Done overtly, it becomes a way to market a book. (Though I think the “AI book” is old-hat at this point.)

CS: In closing, are there any parallels that you see between what is happening now and the industrial revolution? I am thinking about the automation of labor and whether AI can help lead us to universal basic income, a post-work economy, or at least a reduced work week?

JW: There are definitely parallels with the industrial revolution, which put our species on this path of ever-accelerating accumulation (well, some say it all began with the Agricultural Revolution, though David Wengrow and David Graeber critique the agricultural theory of social inequality in The Dawn of Everything). Without a doubt, LLMs and generative AI will profoundly reshape the economy, leading some industries to collapse completely (the education technology company Chegg was the first to crash) while others are transformed—that tendency toward creative destruction is an inherent feature of capitalism. Generative AI will make humans more “efficient” and “productive.” But what is all this efficiency for? Technology has been evolving at breakneck speed since the industrial revolution and we are still working just as long and hard. Efficiency has become our bondage. Once the logic of accumulation enters the bloodstream, it seems hard to stop, partly because accumulation is bottomless (until we hit a hard ecological limit) and feeds on itself. As the Austrian writer Robert Musil wrote in The Man Without Qualities, “We have gained reality and lost dream. No more lounging under a tree and peering at the sky between one’s big and second toes; there’s work to be done. To be efficient, one cannot be hungry and dreamy but must eat steak and keep moving. It is exactly as though the old, inefficient breed of humanity had fallen asleep on an anthill and found, when the new breed awoke, that the ants had crept into its bloodstream, making it move frantically ever since, unable to shake off that rotten feeling of antlike industry.” 

I wish writers could just sit around and be dreamy instead of having to eat steak and keep moving. I do hope we one day arrive at a post-work society. It makes me sad to think that we’ve tacitly accepted a system where we spend our lives toiling for the profit generation of the ownership class, squandering our short, precious life on this planet. 

[lightnersdream]

BLACK FOOTED FERRET (AJPW)

DESIGN:

i think its really cute honestly. the body is slinky enough (especially when running/dancing) that its immediately recognizable as a ferret to me. i'm often on the fence when they make the face of an animal that i envision as pointy or wedge-shaped flat (like the otters, lemurs, sugar gliders), but this is a design decision ive always been on the fence with since the original AJ classic designs like the otter and lemur so this is basically just keeping with theme.

i honestly think some of the most lastest animals like the sugar glider, ferret have looked a lot more in line with classic design style than ones like the quokka.. i will say the newer model style of making everything very "angular" i'm mixed on. it's a little hard to see in pictures, but all the models have very sharp edges, like each section is made of "panels". eg, the tail is four panels, if cross-sectioned twice you would have a perfect cube. you can see it on the paws and legs as well. it's part of the effort to make the 3d models match the current AJ 2d style. they've done varying levels of this throughout the years and some classic models have it too, but since 2023 when i believe they changed modellers/designers they decided to really amp up how angular the models were and have only continued to increase it. not consistently, but generally

i think it works and looks very clean and stylized sometimes, and less others. i think its MOSTLY pretty good here aside from the paws looking a little strange and certain animations not playing nice with the angles, leading to weird rumpling effects because the "seams" on the panels are pixel-sharp. otherwise im neutral on it

it DOES have other patterns and they DO fit the aj style this time (unlike the leopard)! they have a handful of your basic classic patterns like stars, hearts, swirls, leaves, etc. those are all pretty basic this time, just being the plain decal placed at random spots on the body, but they've been doing that for years beforehand so that's not a change. it does have 3 other completely unique patterns though! which is always fun

ANIMATIONS:

they're all preddy good also! the animations were pretty rough for a while after the modeller change but theyve gotten a lot better recently. the dance is simple but smooth, the play supposed to be a "weasel war dance" i think, which i really like. the sit IS NOT nice to the angular design, causing a lot of weird rumpling, and the jump is a little stiff and awkward, but that's all i can really say about the sit/sleep/jump animations, they're perfectly fine

unfortunately all the animations were very clearly rushed this time because they have little quirks to them, like the idle doesn't loop properly so there's a pause on the last frame every time where the model goes stock still before looping again, the jump rotates oddly, the one arm jitters during the dance animation, etc. everything is a little stiffer than usual. it's minor but shows they ran out of time to finish polishing them which is kind of what happens when you insist on a new animal every month

overall weasel/10 i think its really cute ! one of my new favorites. ive been wanting a playable ferret for ages

[populationpensive]

6 of 7

Well, I just spent the last 6 of 7 days working. I honestly can't recall how I got so royally screwed on that schedule. The only good thing about it is that I now get the next 9 days off so I'll take it. I love my job, but having six 12 hour shifts in a week is just...rough.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. We were not as swamped as I expected, particularly this weekend. Actually, we had to close down a part of the ICU because we don't have the nurse staffing to support a full unit. For the month of October this is apparently the issue around my hospital and the administrators are like "omg how can we help make this better??" and the OBVIOUS answer is A.) fair pay for nursing (as they are drastically underpaid) and B.) better staff to patient ratios. But those are NEVER things the hospital is willing to give so while they keep being douche bags, they will see more nurses leave. *sigh*

In other news, I am now on the scheduling committee for my PA/NP group in the ICU. Last spring we went to a self-scheduling model where a committee reviews the requests and makes the schedule rather than my boss who was just kinda putting people wherever. I LOVE the self scheduling but there are people who are 110% never going to be pleased with anything we offer. I haven't gotten nasty-grams about the schedule yet but I'm sure I will at some point.

Life updates: I recently got diagnosed with IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) after years of being convinced that I had this and just not really talking about it with my provider about my symptoms. I'm currently attempting a low-FODMAP diet to see if I have food triggers. For more on low FODMAP go here.

I'm onto week 2 and have done surprisingly well with it. I've noticed a difference, particularly in bloating but also to some degree pain and nausea. I'm going to try to stick to it 3 weeks before starting to reintroduce foods since I've already had some symptom relief. It's not a particularly sustainable diet on its own. It cuts out a lot of things.

My volunteer gig that took up literally half my life in August has calmed down a bit. It's starting to pick up again as officer elections loom but it's at least a little less stressful.

[lowlight-moth]

August 15th. Evening, at the time of writing this.

today was the first day of school. kind of. DWMA doesn't really do regular school vacations. for EAT students, that is. evil doesn't relax and all that. but, it was the first day for me, who is on Kidd's time-off schedule. it was his first day back, my first, day, you get the deal. whatever. it went.. decently? the teacher, Mr. Barrett introduced me - which, i thought was a little redundant until i remembered its technically not a new school year for others. makes sense to introduce me and all that. for awhile i've been wondering if this was a good idea, as its felt really impulsive and frankly, like more of the same. i have to move to a new place for certain reasons -> i stick around for a year or so (sometimes with exceptions to this, but usually no longer than a year) -> i get too close to people -> i have to leave semi-abruptly. thats the cycle i've been in since i was.. twelve? as i was only in ohio for a few months and the whole ingrid incident only lasted like, a day. well, it took a week to sort out, but the main event was only like.. seven hours. real pain in the neck for something so short. i was also worried because i recently got into a spat with my older brother, Astro, which has.. kind of thrown me off my groove. the good news is, we made up! really fast too. the bad news is that i feel absolutely horrible about it (post argument clarity is the worst) and feel like my view of myself has been shaken up. for awhile i've sort of felt more mature than those around me, for the most part. if not more mature, then like i had a leg up - i knew more than them, because i had to. so basically i feel like i've been knocked on my ass.

but, its given me a chance to reflect on myself and why i act like this, and i've come up with a couple reasons as to why i'm.. like this. i'm not trying to pathologize myself, because thats stupid, nor am i making excuses. i'm just hoping that by finding the specific root causes, i'll be able to work around them and maybe understand myself better. and maybe it'll help others understand too. not like anyones ever gonna see this, but, a ghoul can dream, can't he?

first reason, repeated traumatic instances: i feel like this is the greatest thing thats affected my behavior. and like, yeah, no fuckin' duh it did. its kind of strange, i guess my body handles mental trauma different from physical trauma? one of the things i observed during the ingrid incident was the different rates at which i healed: first was the lacerations, second was the armpit jabs (it feels embarrassing to say i got stabbed there, but such is life), third was the burns on my legs. but i've yet to really recover mentally. fully, anyways, i've gotten better than when i was younger. so... i suspect i'm going to be dealing with this forever... yay... second reason, pixie brain: pixies aren't exactly known for being super mature, so it makes sense its sort of in my blood to not be. (i do wonder if a pixie brain deals with trauma differently than a human brain...) third reason, the people i was modeled after: Astro, if you're reading this, consider this your warning to stop reading right now. anyways. you can think whatever you want about the people i was supposed to mimic. you can think L was the best detective ever (he was), you can deify and idolize him, whatever. but, he was not a mature man. he himself even knew this, which is mature of him. everything else, though? not at all. Dad, if you're reading this, consider this your warning to stop reading right now too. and Jasmine... i've heard all about her, i've read through her files.. and she.... i supposed the concept of maturity is different for everyone, but heres how i see it: maturity is to be able to act with compassion. not to say acting with blind kindness and being a doing whatever anyone else wants is smart, no, but the ability to try and compromise with and give people chances (even if they don't deserve it), and work through whatever that may bring. i don't doubt either of the people i was supposed to be were adults, or unkind, but neither were what i'd call the epitome of maturity. fourth reason, the people i've been around: i'm not trying to shift blame, i promise. but, i've gotten used to being the youngest in my polycule, but also the most "mature" at my old school(s). which, for the latter, isn't a very high bar to clear. but i won't deny this has affected me in some way. being around enablers, feeling rather coddled by older peers, and feeling like its been my responsibility to keep people safe.

maybe it was a good thing Astro and i had our spat, i feel like i understand myself a little better now (even if the mere thought of what happened kind of makes me want to take a nap on a highway).

another thing i was worried about is.. well, the other people here and my weapon partner. i'm worried that, especially with Excalibur's reputation, people are gonna think worse of me. they're gonna think i'm a cheater, or some kind of nepotism baby. (which, i am technically, but i really try not to be!) i'm also scared that everything thats happening is impermanent, or just another wammy's. another school of child soldiers to replace my old one. sure, you could argue DWMA's more ethical, but is that really a compliment? i mean, Hellsing's more fucking ethical than wammys! its really not a hard thing to achieve! i'm also scared this is gonna end(heh) as soon as its started. that what i've got going on right now with my boys + Maka is going to be some kind of.. i don't know. i don't know at all. the idea of loosing them, by accident or by growing apart or because of something else makes me feel sick, but its the reality i'm most prepared for. hell, i even keep track of apartments and jobs in shibooya for what feels like the inevitable fuck up that ruins everything! i've been getting into spats more and more with people i care about and i'm scared. i know it means that the honeymoon phase is over but i don't want my relationships to become strained over misunderstandings or my own stupidity. i almost lost Astro because i was too curious to just leave him the hell alone, and indirectly got Jackson to sniff him out, and too immature to be an adult about it.

i mean, sure, Astro wasn't what i'd call "nice" about it, but he had he reasons to be! that case is probably the most stressful thing imaginable, and i almost jeopardized so many things. (....although, one thing i will say in my defense: don't have a blog full of sensitive info set to public, or so obviously yours to people who know you. but thats not a good excuse for me.) ..actually, speaking of unethical, whats up with the stairs at the DWMA? i know on the brochure's its so "provide students with daily exercise", but.. jesus, dude. i wonder how many people have died on that thing. i also wonder if its a way to weed out students who won't be able to keep up. which, i guess is necessary. still doesn't sit right with me, but i'm not getting paid to look into this stuff anymore. (not to say i was ever getting paid, but you know.) one of the really nice things that happened today, also: i have no idea how, but i've managed to go completely under Black⚝'s radar until the first class of today. when the teacher introduced me to the class, i swear he looked like he was about to pass out. or puke. or both. he didn't do either, thank god.

he did give me a hug that i'm certain almost broke a few of my ribs, though. which felt awesome. he's small, but really well built. and his skins always kinda warm too? maybe because its august. so that was really nice. classes are alright so far too. its all new material, but i think i'm getting it pretty well! (<-voice of a boo-y whos going to fail her tests) well, no, i shouldn't self sabotage. that doesn't help anyone. i also got to have lunch with everyone too, which was also really nice! god, for all my worrying, i'm having a good time. i do wonder what i'm gonna do after i graduate, though. i know its "not over until you make a death scythe (weapon?)", but with Asura kind of under wraps(heh), is there... really any need to make more? sure, it'd kind of defeat the purpose of the whole damn school, but i really do have to wonder whats going to happen from now on regarding that. ....but i guess thats for someone else to worry about.

[acertainmoshke]

Sip of Snips 1/21: obey

Did I write this JUST for this? Yes, maybe, but it got me into writing Peppermint's POV again so thanks for that. From To Die Among the Stars:

The sharp rap on the blank stretch of wall was distinctive and Void stopped talking mid-sentence. Peppermint straightened up from their slouch on the cushions under the window. Neither had time to do anything else before the wall shimmered into a door and slid aside to admit January. Dr. January Evans was pale and thin and wore only the most flowing and fashionable clothes under her lab coat—which itself was really a statement at this point, as it had been years since she had gotten her hands dirty with her own experiments. Her silver hair was streaked with sky blue that swirled like a whirlpool in her bun. The trendy new modpatches she wore at her temples flashed colors with her feelings and her Eye looked almost like a flesh one. Flashing and writhing tattoos were only just visible at her cuffs and collar bone. Her lips were painted red and her eyelashes a complimentary yellow. “Good morning, January.” Peppermint caught the subtle buzzing undertones that betrayed Void’s distaste, but it had been programmed to be Nice and Loyal and Good. It had no choice but to greet her like that. Peppermint was not having a good morning. They said nothing. January didn’t seem to notice. “Good morning, Void. Peppermint. I have news.” Peppermint’s stomach twisted. News was never good. When they were little, January monitored their tests herself and visited often to talk and play. But now it had been months since they had seen her and the last time she announced she had news, it had been the military test they had failed. But January smiled and her Modpatches flashed purple happiness as if she didn’t notice the uptick of Void’s cooling fan or Peppermint’s expression. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t know what they meant. “You’re being reassigned. You’re sentient, so you’re protected under the law. But your tests were also not a success. I’ve found a new lab with better use for you. No need to worry, I've done all the vetting." Peppermint’s mind bloomed with questions. Would they be a worker or an experiment? Would January still lead the lab? Was this military? Medical? Private corp? They would miss the sky if they were sent down to the underworld for product quality testing. Void, always straight forward, said simply, “When do we leave?” January’s frosted eyebrows went up. “Oh, not you. You were a success, leaps and bounds forward in artificial technology. All our newer models are based on you. We would be fools to give you up with all the prototype data you contain. Only Peppermint will be moved.” The questions shriveled and died in their mind. “Come, Peppermint.” “N-now?” The headache that had plagued them all morning pounded harder. “I’ve already had a bag packed for you. The bus is waiting.” January was halfway to the door. Void reached out a hand, stubby fingers curling in to hold Peppermint’s furry ones. Its scratched metal body hummed with warmth and life. Peppermint wanted to cling and never let go. And nearly, they nearly managed it, pulling Void closer until its entire arm was against their chest, warming them through their dress. “Come, Peppermint!” January turned around to call again. They wanted to sit there and cling to their friend forever. They stood and shuffled bare feet across cold floor, the beans on the bottom of their human-like toes chilled nearly numb. Maybe they were no more a real person than Void, they considered, despite their growing fur and rushing blood. After all, they were being taken from the only home they had ever known and they had no choice but to obey. The door made no sound as it slid closed behind them.

[gustingirl]

eyes, nose, lips | j.kiszka x reader x s.kiszka

"I can still feel you, but like a burnt out flame, burnt and destroyed all of our love"

- in which you discover how dangerous a broken heart can be -

request: Can I request with Jakey , The reader thought that Jake broke up with her but he actually didn’t because she didn’t listen to him clearly #71. "I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore” and so she ends up hooking up with Sammy #90. "I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” Or #96 “I’m Yours” and he finds out about it #166. "Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?”

warnings: smut, mentions of sexual acts, graphic sexual description and vocabulary

part 1: [x]

part 2: [x]

part three (love or lust?): [x]

part three (love or lust?): [x]

They say that, at the end of the day, we are our own enemies. How much of that can be true? No matter how many people we meet in our lives, we only live our entire lives with ourselves. As much as we can hate that, it’s true. And all these positive people will say this to help you feel better with ourselves, especially our bodies. But nobody ever truly talks about what it means to spend your entire life living with your own mind. Maybe we can learn to love our bodies the way they are, but our mind will always be, really, our biggest enemy.

It always seems like your mind wants you to fail, right? It will always try to boycott your feelings, your hopes, your prayers, everything. And when you’ve been in a relationship for so long, your mind finds the way to ruin your entire happiness. No intuition worked here, no. It was your own insecurity making its way around your mind, making you believe your boyfriend no longer loved you.

You and Jake had been dating for God knows how long. You believed it had been 3 years while Jake was sure you guys started dating 5 years ago. It was evident that neither of you knew exactly when the relationship started, and that should have been a sign for you. As much as you really loved Jake, something always felt wrong. It was like, too good to be true, right?

Because have you ever seen that man? He is sex on a stick, a fucking dream come true for any hopeless romantic. It’s no surprise you had fallen in love within seconds after meeting him. It had been through friends in common, typically. And it had felt so good since day one. But the years going by, and your mind playing tricks on you, started making you believe this had only been a dream that you could only dream of, and never truly live it.

His job didn’t exactly help, either. How can you control a famous rockstar? And how can you trust someone whose role models have always been these legendary rock stars who had more groupies than friends? You truly wanted to believe he was not like those singers your mom was a fan of during her teenage years. But as always, your mind was not your best friend, and all sorts of insecurities arised from just thinking of what Jake was doing whenever he “was at work”.

At some point in your life, you decided to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. You had gotten tired of your insecurities keeping you awake every single night so, as your mind has always wanted, you decided to stay closer to Jake, visit him at work and basically follow him around, something you had never done since you began dating.

You showed up the very first time at their studio when they were recording their newest album. Your visit surprised Jake for good and he was the happiest boy with his lovely girlfriend by his side. He didn’t realize what your intentions were until months later, when he noticed you were by his side every single day, with no exceptions. You should have expected he would find out eventually. It all went down with one single, rather stupid, fight.

“Y/N, you’re still here? Don’t you have something else to do?” Jake suddenly asked one day as he was tuning his guitar and waiting for his bandmates to show up. The question didn’t sound the way he wanted to; he truly was curious, but you did not find curiosity in those words.

“Why? You don’t want me around?” you fired back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Jake sighed before replying

“Did I say that? Or did I ask if you had something else to do?” he truly wasn’t in the mood to argue about this

“It sounded like you were kicking me out” you knew by then that your mind with your insecurities were taking over you, as you wouldn’t think twice what you were saying

“Seriously? You’re gonna start this again? The guys will be here any second, you really want them to hear all this?”

“I don’t give a shit about that. I wanna know why you’re so eager to be left alone. Is someone else joining the party? I don’t know, some horny 19 year old girl, big fan of your band, who magically happened to-”

“Don’t even start!” Jake’s sudden raise of voice made you shut up instantly, even taking a few steps back. He never was a pretty angry person, and for some reason it could always cool you down “You always do this! You always ruin it!”

“Ruin what? Your life?” you had no idea what feeling was now possessing you, but it wasn’t pretty

“When the FUCK did I say you ruin my life?”

What you had started out of jealousy and insecurity was now burning you back, and you knew that you couldn’t take this. You could barely win an argument that you had started, as you were aware that they never made sense. Before Jake could see you realizing you were wrong, you rolled your eyes and left, believing silence would be enough of an answer for now.

“Oh you’re leaving!?” FINE!” you could hear him yell back as you left the room.

Your heart dropped, however, once you made it to the hallway after closing the door behind you.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF YOU, WE’RE DONE”

Did…did Jake just break up with you? No way, he wouldn’t do it that way. But, again, that fight was not an usual one. Jake seemed more annoyed than ever. And now that you think about it, Jake had been acting so strange the last few months. Was there someone else? Was he tired of a relationship? Was he finally tired of you?

Your mind was screaming, kicking and fighting more now than ever, and you truly needed it to shut up. You had noticed you had been standing by the closed door for a while and the room was suddenly too small, despite being a wide hallway. Upon feeling the need of fresh air, you inhaled those boogers that would always appear when crying was all you needed and you began walking towards the entrance.

Immersed in your thoughts, keeping your head down to avoid uncomfortable questions, you never once realized someone was coming your way. This someone was as distracted as you were, and the two collided with so much strength you fell to the floor.

“Oh, I’m sor- Y/N?” the voice was familiar and you quickly raised your head to meet this person’s eye.

Sam was staring right at you, with quite an expression on his face that you had never seen before. He quickly kneeled down and helped you remove some hair off your face.

“Are you crying? Did Jake say something to you? Are you fine?” Sam asked nervously, his concern being more evident with each question asked.

You loved him, as he was always keeping an eye on you. You recalled then something that you had been noticing from the younger brother, but you were not in the mood to think about it. As you also weren’t in the mood to answer all that.

“Please, let me go. I don’t wanna be here anymore” you replied with a much lower voice, almost as a whisper.

Sam didn’t hesitate to shut up and help you get up. You shared one more smile before abandoning the building, leaving a very concerned Sam behind you.

As much as you wanted to stay mad, your emotions were too uncontrollable. You wanted to hate Jake so badly, but he had been your true love these past years, and the pain that this break up was causing you was too much to bear. You began feeling like everything had been left inconclusive. After months of staying far away from your now ex - boyfriend, you made up your mind one day to face him one more time and clear the doubts you still had.

But you should have known yourself better. When have you ever let anybody see you weak? You couldn’t, not even with all the strength of your mind, accept that you had lost. For you, you were never in the wrong. And these dark thoughts were resting in the back of your mind the day you decided to face Jake once more.

You had purchased a ticket for his latest concert. As you had planned, you got a position where Jake could see you perfectly. You enjoyed the concert, anyways, as his music had always been your favorite. Within seconds he had seen you, and something in his attitude changed. Was it annoyance? You had no idea, as your own feelings were blurring your eyes and mind.

On stage, Jake’s mind was also distraught. He had no idea why you had been so distant lately, not replying to his messages or never picking up the phone whenever he would call. He remembered the endless nights he spent crying about you with Josh, venting all his problems as his twin seemed to be the only one who could understand him. The memories of the last encounter started replaying inside his head as The Barbarians started playing.

“When the FUCK did I say you ruin my life?”

Jake watched as you hesitated a bit in your place. He knew you well, and was aware you were thinking about your next move. He was expecting a louder yelling back from you, as your arguments would always consist of each one raising the voice after the other. However, you remained silent and only decided to leave him with his new anger alone.

“Oh you’re leaving!?” FINE!” Jake yelled once more, wanting now for you to reply. It was useless, as you were determined to leave in silence.

As you abandoned the room, Jake felt like venting to the air.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF THIS, WE’RE DONE FIGHTING AND THEN IT’S LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. WHY CAN’T YOU OPEN UP TO ME!? BABE!?”

Jake could yell for hours but it seemed like he wouldn’t get an answer. Frustration took over him and, in a state of anger, accidentally broke his guitar. He stayed silent then, upon seeing his consequences. A few minutes later, Sam walked inside the room.

“Jake, what’s going on? Why was Y/N crying?” his brother inquired as he tried getting closer.

Jake only giggled sadly, shaking his head.

“Of course she’s crying. She yells at me, closes herself and then cries. I love her so much, why won’t she let me get through her? It’s been years, Sammy, years that this has been happening. I want her to trust me, why won’t she?” the last words luckily came out of his mouth as anguish was now all he could feel, and the knot in his throat wouldn’t let him speak correctly.

Sam gulped before embracing his brother in a hug, unsure of what to do next.

His own words kept replaying inside his head as he constantly glanced over at where you were. The whole scene still felt blurry, like a nightmare that still haunts him every night. Unfortunately for the both of you, you happened to be two very stubborn people, and the possibility of one or the other dropping their stubborness to admit their mistake was zero to none. Jake knew this, and he could sense from the stage that you had come to the venue to hear an apology.

And, as expected, such a thing happened. Hours after the last song was played, Jake found himself waiting for you to finish rambling about how hurt you were about his words. He truly wanted to yell back, but the amount of love he had for you wouldn’t allow him to be such an awful person. He knew that he never spoke the nicest words whenever he would raise his voice. However, this time he was a hundred percent sure he was not the one who should be apologizing.

“I just don’t get how you can let all this happen! What about the love we have for each other, huh? You forgot about it?” you complained, moving your arms around with the ugliest expression on your face.

Jake sighed, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as tight as possible.

“I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore” Jake said with total peace in his voice, though it was due to pure tiredness. Many times he had put his arms down for you, always wanting the relationship to survive, even if that meant he had to admit to mistakes he hadn’t committed or that he never regretted. But this time, he was tired. It could also mean Josh’s speech had worked. Josh adored you as much as the man next door, but he loved his brother even more, and truly believed he deserved to be mad too.

On the other hand, you were left speechless. He really wasn’t taking back breaking your heart. He stood there staring at you, in a silence that was louder than any word that could be spoken. He was saying nothing, but he was crying out everything with just a silence. It then hit you. This truly was over. He wasn’t willing to work on your relationship, he had given up. And as much as it hurt you, you admitted the defeat.

In the same silence, you left the room, holding in all the tears that were threatening to leave your eyes. You weren’t going to give him the luxury of seeing you cry for him. Jake remained in his place, also swallowing all the emotions so that you would truly understand him. But communication wasn’t working in this relationship, and the lack of it ended up ruining it.

Many months had passed since that one last conversation. It truly was the last time you two had shared a word and it was evident in the atmosphere. It took you some weeks to be able to see anybody in his surroundings again. The first one you encountered was Danny. He was too shy to truly share with you how Jake was feeling. The second one was Josh and he pretended to not see you at the mall. You expected it from Jake’s closest brother. You were sure Josh knew something about you that made him hate you somehow. But it was Sam the one who made you suddenly think twice.

It was a weird encounter, though, but you didn’t exactly hate it. You had spent the last weeks being surrounded by all kinds of people, very nosy people who wanted to know everything about the breakup. Though at first it was comforting, it soon became annoying and it took you a while to be able to push everybody out. Therefore, you decided to go to the cinema alone one night, in search of some peace and entertainment. Such peace was soon disturbed by a very familiar face popping up in between a crowd. The similarity of that face with your own ex - boyfriend’s face was too obvious, and it didn’t take long for the known stranger to approach you.

“Y/N? Hey!” Sam exclaimed with a big smile. You smiled back, remembering how much time you would spend with the younger brother. You hugged him tightly as soon as he was near.

“Hey, Sam. What are you doing here?” you looked around you, a bit of fear showing up. Sam picked it up quickly and shook his head

“I came alone, don’t worry. I can’t be with my brothers for too long” he joked, a bit of a nervous giggle being released right after. You smiled as you sighed, all concerns of seeing Jake again going away.

“I’m here alone too. People get too annoying” you commented, gaining a nod from Sam

“Want me to leave you alone?” he suddenly asked. You frowned at him for a second before shaking your head softly

“You’re not that people, Sammy. I would love to watch the movie with you. Maybe we can share popcorn and snacks”

The smile Sam showed you was so endearing that it made you forget everything for just a few seconds. You instantly followed him inside the theatre and found a couple of empty seats right in the back.

The night continued as normal, though you couldn’t let your guard down. There was something off with Sam. It always was like this, almost since the very first days you’d met him. Like you could feel the atmosphere not being entirely…friendly. However, your mind was always concentrated on Jake to even notice Sam’s actions. But now everything was different and nothing was going unnoticed. Not the way he would suddenly stroke your hand while thinking you were focused on the movie. Or the way his eyes would glance over at you every five seconds. Or how close he would get to whisper the dumbest comment into your ear. You were not dumb; these things were not new and you could tell the intentions behind them in Sam’s eyes. Nevertheless, his company was essential right now and nothing could make you push him away.

You never expected Sam to stick around so much. You would have thought by now that Jake was aware of you two seeing each other and was totally against it. But nothing seemed to demonstrate this. You weren’t complaining, though. You found yourself adoring every second passed with Sam. He had such an outgoing personality that could erase any bad thought from your mind.

But your mind could never rest, not even when Sam was right by your side. So many emotions were taking over you. You were sure by now that you were not ok. The breakup had definitely taken over your body, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of fucking his brother.

But there you were, sitting besides Sam at his apartment as he was writing some lyrics. You were searching around the internet, totally bored, with nothing in your mind. Your concentration was gone hours ago, and now you were suddenly glancing over at Sam’s hands, as you watched them go from his base to the pencil, sometimes going to his lips as he was thinking some words. It was all too much for you, and as you imagined, you weren’t thinking straight.

“God, they’re big” you muttered a bit too loud for your liking, gaining Sam’s attention instantly

“Sorry?” he asked, though he soon caught your stare and noticed how they were landing on his hands. He suddenly turned red and avoided your stare, showing you a small shy smile. “O-oh”

You bit your lip as you watched him reach over to grab his glass of wine and accidentally spilled the content on himself. You giggled while Sam began swearing repeatedly.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” Sam began saying as he struggled to erase the big stain on his shirt.

“You’re fucking it up more, idiot” you laughed while approaching him. You kneeled right by his side, your body evidently stuck to his.

His eyes attempted to look at you, but as soon as he realized your breasts were almost by his face, he quickly looked away. You noticed it but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Let me help you” you said softly.

Sam tried to reject your offer but you were quick to start unbuttoning his shirt. You were close enough to his body to notice the change in his breathing. Once the shirt was off, you left it on a side as you stared at Sam with a smile.

“Y/N, I-” Sam started but cut himself off the second he noticed how your eyes glared down. He swallowed before looking down, knowing his boner had already made an appearance and was ruining the whole atmosphere “I-I can explain…it”

“You don’t need to” you commented back, biting your lip at the sight. You glanced over at his face before continuing “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking”

The look on Sam’s face was of both horror and embarrassment. He truly had believed he was being sneakily about it. I mean, you had never mentioned it. He had the idea you were oblivious to it or else you would have complained. But you were aware of it, pretty aware of it, and you didn’t seem bothered at all.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t say a word. Nothing was coming up in his mind and he was struggling more than ever. It didn’t help at all that you were now sliding off the couch to kneel in between his legs. Your stare was penetrating his soul and he had never desired you so much before. You tried crawling on top of him but soon his hands stopped you.

“Y/N, I-I can’t do this” he was lying, he knew it damn well. But there was still a little voice inside his head screaming for coherence.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” you asked while sitting on his lap.

Unconsciously, his hands travelled to your naked legs and began stroking them as his eyes could not leave your face. Your stare was driving him insane, and that little voice was every time quieter.

“You’re…you’re Jake’s girl” was all Sam could say

“I’m my own person, I’m not his or anybody’s” your reply confused Sam a lot, but that voice of coherence suddenly was silent as you took his hands and drove them to your breasts “But tonight I’m yours, I’m only yours”

All threads of sanity were quickly gone inside both of your heads, and within seconds you had Sam kissing you deeply, not waiting a second to take your clothes off.

As fast as both your bodies were naked, sweaty and stuck together, Sam picked you up with ease while making his way to his bedroom. No thoughts were going through your minds, only pure lust and terrible need to get rid of all the tension built inside your bodies.

The next morning felt like you had the biggest hangover ever. Your head was killing you and you could even feel a bit dizzy. It didn’t make sense as you had only drank one glass of wine. But the dense atmosphere was making you struggle to get out of bed. After trying for a while, you came to realization that it wasn’t the atmosphere keeping you down, it was an arm.

Bits of the night before came back to your mind as you turned around and found Sam sleeping peacefully by your side, his arm resting with ease over your waist with his land fallen by your chest. You could only assume he had fallen asleep while grabbing your breast. All this made sense with Sam.

But your mind wasn’t understanding anything. Did you sleep with your ex-boyfriend’s brother? The guy you had befriended years ago? Was this truly happening?

“Are you gonna stare for much longer? I may charge you the minute” the sleepy voice took you off completely, waking up something down there for you. You gasped softly at how good he sounded the next morning, and all feelings of regret soon disappeared

“You’re a beautiful sight when the sun shines bright through the window” you commented, not believing right away that you had just said that

“I’m always a beautiful sight, though” Sam replied, slightly sarcastically, as he slowly opened his eyes only a bit. You laughed softly at his joke and watched him as he got up, resting his body’s weight on his elbow “But you’re an even more beautiful sight”

The gentle touch of his hand on your face as he removed some strands of hair off your face felt more like a slap from reality. These same scenarios used to happen, but with the man you had fallen deeply in love with. And that man wasn’t Sam. It was his brother.

“I gotta go” you murmured, hating yourself as you began getting dressed.

“Regret finally hit you?” his question made you stop midway as you were searching for your blouse

“We fucked and I’m still in love with your brother” your reply wasn’t supposed to sound so harsh, but to your fortune, Sam didn’t seem fazed

“Yesterday you were bashing the poor guy, now you’re in love with him?” Sam was oddly rude, his tone making you now feel a lot more upset than horny

“This isn’t your business” you said, trying to sound as rude but failing

“You made it my business when you rode me last night while screaming my name”

You knew he was right, no matter how much you tried to deny it. After all, it was you the one who jumped on him.

“Do I need to remind you? You said last night you were mine” Sam continued. You weren’t sure exactly where this conversation was going, but you weren’t feeling happy.

“Sam, quit it, ok? This was a one time thing and only because Jake broke my heart” you remarked, continuing searching for your stuff. You hurried your pace to be able to leave the apartment faster.

“How sure are you that you’re not the one who broke his heart?”

That sudden question made you get up quickly, though you avoided his harsh stare on you. No words seemed to fit a proper answer, and the more time you would spend thinking of one, the heavier the atmosphere felt. You decided then that no answer was better than one.

“Goodbye, Sam” you quickly responded before leaving the room, soon then leaving the apartment.

Sam let his body fall back to the bed as he sighed loudly. He truly didn’t want to upset you, and you were unaware of how confused he was. It was understandable, you suddenly falling into his arms as he had always dreamt. But Jake was in the picture, and it didn’t matter how bad your relationship with him was, Jake was still Sam’s brother and that should mean something to the younger brother.

Poor Sam’s mind would not let him rest the following days. His conscience was eating him alive, and it didn’t help that he basically saw Jake all the time. He was the first one to hold Jake as he cried for you, and months later he had fucked his girlfriend. Nothing made sense inside his mind, but thankfully, work was so demanding he soon found himself getting a lot more distracted.

However, distractions are temporary and soon hell was set loose.

One afternoon, the band had decided to film at Sam’s apartment. Some producer had had the idea of doing sketches for fans and Sam’s had to be filmed at his own place. As the band always worked together, all four boys were hanging out at Sam’s apartment as they cleared the kitchen for the cameras.

Everybody was everywhere as Sam cleaned his kitchen counters, the boys making so much noise with their conversations.

“Hey, Sam. Do you have that shirt I lent you the other day? I may use it for my own sketch” Danny asked as he cleaned some knives

“Oh yeah. I think I have it. Go get it” the younger boy replied

“Can you get it for me? My hands are dirty” Danny asked someone.

Sam didn’t pay much attention to who he was talking to as he was too concentrated on the cleaning activity. Suddenly, a loud, angry voice made everybody’s head lift up quickly.

“What the fuck is this!?”

Sam recognized Jake’s voice in an instant. He waited as he could hear steps getting closer. The older brother joined the rest at the kitchen, now holding in his hands a bra.

“Sam. What the fuck is this?” Jake’s voice was now way calmer but not any less angry. The lack of emotion on his face was making Sam enter into panic mode.

“A bra?” Sam replied, trying hard so his voice wouldn’t sound as shaky.

“Whose bra is this?” Josh asked, a sense of fun curiosity in his tone and expression. He seemed, like always, the only one smiling.

“Yeah, Sam. Whose bra is this?” Jake repeated, sounding a lot less fun than Josh. The reiterated question made Josh’s smile vanish.

Sam remained silent. If he answered the question, then everything would be real. As much as he tried, he really couldn’t give an answer. This was enough for Jake who was now grabbing Sam’s phone. He threw it across the counter along with the bra, and both objects landed perfectly in front of the bassist.

“Call her” Jake demanded.

The expression was still unreadable and, with each second passed, Sam’s panic was growing intensely. He didn’t hesitate to obey.

You picked up the phone with your head in the clouds, barely even checking who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Please come to my place. You forgot something” Sam was completely monotone, which confunded you a lot.

With nothing else being said, and with no time to reply, Sam hung up. All throughout the call, his eyes were nailed on Jake’s, though it was more like the other way around. Jake’s fury was all over the place and still Danny and Josh were oblivious to everything. They could tell there was something going on but they couldn’t figure out exactly what.

All the answers to their doubts and questions showed up the second the door rang and you walked in, after Sam exclaimed it was open.

Your face dropped to the floor when you realized what was going on. It was confusing at first, but the sight of Jake holding your bra in front of your face was enough sign for you to read the room. You gulped as he made his way to you.

“Excuse me, hi. Nice to see you, after, I don’t know, four months? Or was it six? Fuck, I don’t even recall!” Jake’s sarcastic tone was painful more than funny

“Six months and two weeks” you replied dry

“Oh, look at her! She even counted the weeks!” Jake yelled, still sarcastically

“What are you doing here?” you could only seem to ask

“No, I got a better one, babe” Jake lifted a finger as he spoke, an devilish smile on his face “Why the fuck is your bra at Samuel’s room? Mmhm?”

All eyes, except for Jake’s, went straight to Sam. The tall boy was pale as fuck and he swallowed hard as he made short eye contact with everybody, starting and ending with you.

“No, no, don’t look at him darling” Jake suddenly spoke, making you stare back at him. “Answer me.”

You swallowed too, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Why do you ask something that you already have the answer for?” like always, you couldn’t let him see you weak. No matter how many years had passed, you still hated being vulnerable around him.

“I see” was his only answer for a while.

The sharp movement of his arm throwing the bra across the room made everybody jump in their places.

“I just can’t get you, Y/N! I can never get you! Do you love me? Do you hate me? Do you want me to hate you? Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me hate you?”

“I thought you already did” you replied quickly, the wounds of your breakup feeling fresh again

“How could I ever fucking hate you!? I’m fucking in love with you, for the love of God!” Jake yelled back, his voice raising with each word.

“Then why would you break up with me!?” You could only think of matching his tone.

However, you weren’t expecting his expression. His eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed several times before he could speak.

“What fucking break up are you talking about!? We’re still together!”

What?

Did he just…? Did he never…?

“What are you talking about?” you murmured, your expression being quite the opposite as his.

Then it hit him.

“Oh my god” was all he could say, reality punching him really hard to the point that he just couldn’t talk. He covered his mouth in shock as he walked around.

You copied him subconsciously, as it also hit you right there.

You had cheated on the love of your life with his own brother.

this ended up being so long i had to create a whole ass fic for it lmaoo hope this reached your expectations! thanks for requesting and thanks for reading! <3

[dollslayer]

By Its Cover

Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers x Shy!Reader, College AU

Summary: Your late nights at the university library spark a chain of events. Will they lead to your undoing? To anyone else's?

W/C: 8,890 (oops, sorry)

Warnings: DARK themes, NO MINORS, stalking, murder, minor character death, smut, angst, unprotected sex, oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

A/N: FINALLY, I wrote this for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's 2 Years of Darkness challenge! This fic kicked my ass but after some months I'm so excited about it! This is my first truly dark fic so please don't read if any of these topics upset you but I do want to make a note that the sex is consensual. If I missed any warnings please DM me immediately and I will add them. Reblog/comment if you liked it! Maybe even check out some of my other fics 👀 Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You stumbled slightly on the uneven pavement as you made the final steps towards the graduate school library. It was always so much quieter than the undergrad library and at this hour there’d be a good chance it was just you and the poor person stuck working the overnight help desk. You didn’t mind that though, you were never an overly sociable person and you preferred to work alone anyways.

You swiped your student ID through the sensor and the little green light granted you entry as you opened the door. Looking around there wasn’t even someone at the desk, just the sound of the always-on A/C rattling the leaves of the fake plants in the lobby.

You moved to put your ID away when it slipped from your fingers and plapped onto the floor, your own face staring back up to you from the plastic. You sighed and swung your bag further back over your shoulder as you bent to pick it up when a pair of legs edged their way into your vision. Caught off guard by the man attached to them, you watched him bend to pick up the piece of plastic.

You both straightened back up to your full heights and you found yourself looking up at him. He had clear blue eyes and sandy blond hair that was swept back. He looked like he could be a model, he was so handsome and you felt like a deer in headlights.

You realized that he had your ID in his hand and was waiting patiently for you to take it. You smiled awkwardly and took it from him. He looked back to your card and read your name out loud and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you” you said more in surprise than gratitude “Sorry, I just, I could’ve sworn no one was here you came out of nowhere” You laughed nervously, hoping to hide your embarrassment. You were never good with talking to people and once a situation got awkward you just got yourself deeper in it.

“I was just coming around the corner when I noticed you dropped your ID. I actually work the late shift at the desk. Serves me right for applying last minute for work through the university, right?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Late night cram session? You look like your back’s about to snap from holding all those books” He pointed to your bag, the stitches of it’s straps were frayed and had been sewn over a couple of times.

“Yeah, I like coming here late, hardly anyone’s here, I don’t have to deal with people and I can just focus” You explained

“Right, well, sorry to keep you. If you need anything I’m Steve, and I’ll be bored out of my mind at the desk” he smirked and walked back towards reception.

You turned down the hall and thought how strange it was that you’d never seen him here before. It was the middle of the semester so he couldn’t have just started but you were in here all the time and you’d never run into him once. You brushed the thought off and continued on your way.

____

Over the next few weeks you and Steve developed a routine. You’d come in around 10 or 11, you’d stop at the desk and chat a bit and then you’d head up to your spot on the second floor to study. Occasionally Steve would see you when he returned books and you’d joke around a bit before he’d leave you to your work. You were building a good rapport with each other and he was pleased.

Sometimes he’d been too shy to approach you. It made him feel like the scrawny, helpless kid he was before the growth spurt. Beautiful girls like you never looked twice at him but he knows that you’re different, he knows that if you had met him then that you’d never treat him like those girls did. He knows that in time you two could really have something special.

Steve understood that building a relationship with you would take time and balance. He didn’t want to seem too eager but ever since he saw you he knew he’d do anything to just talk to you.

It started some months ago when he was visiting Bucky on campus. They had been hanging out in the quad right by a group of buildings when you tripped on the pavement and your books fell at his feet. He helped you up and even collected your books for you but you were too flustered and embarrassed to meet his eye. You eked out a thank you and scurried into the graduate library.

That moment sparked a blooming obsession within him. The following night he was still in town but he went out without Bucky and staked out where he’d been the previous night and watched you go to the library at the same time you had. The next two nights he did this and quickly pieced together your nightly routine.

Within a month's time he was set to transfer for the next semester and when he did he got a job working night shifts at the library. Bucky had asked him why on Earth he’d want that and Steve had shrugged him off, claiming that he wanted to be paid and didn’t want to deal with anyone. Seemed like a good enough reason to anyone else.

And so that’s how Steve found himself invading your personal space to hand you your ID. He enjoyed the way you trembled slightly in surprise. You looked so small next to him, looking up at him. He nearly forgot what he was going to say, feeling suddenly shy himself. You were so close to him and you were just as beautiful as he remembered.

Take it slow, he reminded himself.

____

Your apartment door slammed behind you as you stormed out of the building. You left in only what you were wearing which was a light hoodie and some leggings. You had thought to grab your book bag before you left and it kept knocking into your side with each angry step you took. Tears streaked your face but you tried your best to brush them off and continued on your brisk walk to the library.

You and your boyfriend had gotten into a fight and things got heated pretty fast, they always did with Sean. You had confronted Sean about being gone so often and so late, you’d missed him and wanted to spend time with you. That’s when he started getting defensive and turning your late nights at the library right around on you.

Things escalated to shouting and Sean had gotten so angry that he’d knocked over a pile of your books from the table. It had scared you and that’s when you left. You knew that you’d be getting nowhere with him when he was so angry. You wanted to be alone and needed a distraction so you grabbed your bag and headed for the library.

You secretly hoped Steve was working, it’d be nice to see a friendly face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the tiniest crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and kind and he always knows when to give you space. You wish you’d met him at a different point in your life, you could really see yourself with him in another timeline. Maybe it was just easier to think that having just had a fight with Sean.

You swiped your card and waited patiently for the door to open. You could tell Steve had already spotted you and was looking at you as you passed through the glass doors. He was smiling his same boyish charm smile that made you feel even shier than you already were. You must’ve looked a mess but it was comforting to see him there waiting for you.

“There she is,” Steve said with a smile as he got up from his chair to greet you. His face immediately fell though as he took in the tracks of your tears and your puffy eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve looked upset and angry for you. You were touched, but you’d rather leave it.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s okay. It’s nice to see you though, Steve. How’s your night?”

Steve’s jaw ticked but he swallowed and nodded and you were grateful he didn’t push it further.

“Uneventful as usual, it’s good to see you too, doll.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the nickname. If you were on better terms with Sean you’d feel bad but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but giggle.

You said your goodbye to Steve and made your way to the second floor to study.

Hours passed and you had your nose buried in a book when you felt a sudden presence. You looked up slowly behind you and shrieked when you found Steve just inches from you. He held his hands out defensively and tried to catch your breathing.

“Steve, oh my God, I didn’t see you there, you scared me!” You laughed as you caught your breath.

“Yeah, sorry, I uh, have a habit of doing that.” He said as he ducked his head sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Was he blushing? Why did he look nervous?

“I, um. I was uh, I was hoping to maybe ah, ask you something, actually.” Steve swallowed thickly. He is nervous. You smiled at him and motioned for him to go on.

“I was thinking… maybe, when you’re free if um, would you maybe want to go to dinner? With me?” He stammered out.

You smiled and felt heat flood your cheeks all over again, Steve was gorgeous and you were flattered that someone like him would want to go out with you. Just as quickly as that flattery came dread had instantly replaced it. You had a boyfriend, you couldn’t do that to Sean. Oh God, now I have to turn him down. What if he hates me?

“Wow… I uh, Steve,” you started, “I’m. You’re so sweet, I don’t know what to say. But, I have a boyfriend, I’m really sorry”

“But- but don’t think I wouldn’t say yes, if I could. You’re such a nice guy and I’m really happy for our friendship. I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us, I’m. I’m sorry,” You quickly led up with. You felt so awkward and bad that you had to turn him down.

Steve’s jaw ticked and he looked away. A blush of embarrassment had made its way up his neck and into his cheeks. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a deep breath.

“It’s… It’s fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t want things to be weird between us either. You know what? Why don’t we just forget the whole thing? Sorry again.” He finished with a tight lipped smile

You sent an uneasy smile back and nodded.

“Of course, no damage done, Steve.”

With that he left you and you went back to your book. You tried not to overthink the entire situation but couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable.

____

“Boyfriend” the word echoed in his head on a never ending loop with deafening reverb. He nodded curtly at you and smiled. You had your awkward exchange of apologies and excuses. Wordlessly, he made his way back to the information desk. He felt angry but also humiliated, he had spent at least a week building himself up to say something to you and you just turned him down so wholly?

He saw the way you looked at him, the way you laughed at his jokes. Steve knew that he meant more to you than you were letting on. There was attraction there, you were just in denial because you had a boyfriend.

Who even was this schmuck? You couldn’t have liked him that much because if you did then you would’ve mentioned him before but you hadn’t. If you really loved your boyfriend then you wouldn’t have smiled at Steve the way you did or stopped to say hello every night. He needed to see for himself whom exactly it was that was so undeserving of your attention.

Steve checked the cameras and saw that you were packing up your things. He had maybe a few minutes to gather his own things and wait for you. There was someone else coming to cover the library in 20 minutes, it would be fine if he left it alone until then. He decided to make himself scarce from the desk so you wouldn’t have to see him again before you left and you wouldn’t notice he’d be following you.

Waiting for the sound of the double doors to click shut he turned the corner and waited for just a minute. He slunk down the mainways of campus towards the student apartments and stopped just 20 yards away from you up against a wall. You looked so cold all alone in the dark as you buzzed in one of the numbers.

“1B, what the fuck could you possibly want at this hour?” a gruff voice answered over the comm.

“Baby, it’s me, sorry I forgot my keys but you weren’t responding to my texts so” You trailed off as you shivered in the night. No reply came, just the buzzer sounding off. You hurried inside and Steve tried his best to scope out external windows.

Finally the light came on in one of them and to his luck the blinds were mostly open. Through the vertical slats he could make out your entrance and an impeding figure from the hall. It was him, the boyfriend. The guy that was apparently so much better than Steve.

He saw your body language was tense and you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word in, your boyfriend was grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you. You looked surprised maybe, but you just let him grab you like that. You just fucking let him.

He watched from his spot against a pillar from the building across the walkway. He clenched his jaw and tried to control his breathing watching this guy, this boy manhandle you like you weren’t something special, something precious. He was disgusted but he couldn’t look away as your clothes were shirked off and you two fucked right there on the couch.

He couldn’t bring himself to watch anymore and stormed off. As he walked back to his place a plan began to form in the back of his mind.

____

Things with Sean were smoothed over. You didn’t really talk, so much as he just fucked you before you could even talk about it. He had kissed you on the cheek after and said he was sorry. So you figured that he was. You didn’t really feel like pushing it anyways.

You made for the library once again, anticipating a long night ahead of you with midterms around the corner.

You let out a shriek as you realized someone was standing over you. Steve was hovering right above you, looking even taller than he already was. You pushed your chair back to get some distance between yourself and him while you caught your breath from the momentary scare.

“Steve, I uh, sorry I didn’t hear you coming, again.”

He leaned himself against the edge of the table and crossed his arms. How had you not realized he was so muscular before? You flushed and scolded yourself for thinking about him like that. You had a boyfriend and Steve was just the nice guy at the library.

He ducked his head shyly and waved your apology off.

“Sorry, guess I’m just sneaky.” He chuckled in amusement but the feeling wasn’t mutual, “I was just up here returning some books when I realized I missed you coming in, thought I’d come say hi.”

“Right,” you replied, “Guess we just missed each other. How’s the desk tonight?”

“Bored to tears as usual, just glad you’re here tonight”

Steve winked at you and you felt your cheeks get hot again and you looked away with a small laugh.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“Ah that’s not true.” He paused, “I get nervous all the time around pretty girls like you”

You were really in it now. Your cheeks heated instantly and you had to look away from him again. For someone that just got rejected he doesn’t stay down for long. How the hell were you going to talk your way out of this one? He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he say that?

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” Oh, thank God.

He begins to walk back to his cart before spinning on his heel one last time.

“Hey, I forgot to ask. You’re pretty good with art history, right?”

You nod cautiously, afraid that you know where this is going.

“Well, as of right now I’ve got a C. I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet on one of my nights off here and help me out?”

“O-oh. Yeah, of course. No problem. I’m sure Sean wouldn’t mind.”

You were too nice for your own good, saying yes before really thinking it all through. You only realized you had after the words left your mouth so you mentioned Sean to save yourself a bit.

Steve’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at you.

“Awesome, you’re the best. Maybe we can get together at that cafe on 3rd next Tuesday around noon?”

“Of course, I’ll be there” You confirm.

____

Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough for Steve. He didn’t need any help in art history, he was averaging about an 87, actually. But when you turned him down he knew he had to find another way to get closer to you and he knew that you’d say yes out of pressure.

All in all things were going pretty well for Steve. Despite your shy nature he’d managed to get closer to you much quicker than he expected. He loved watching you get flustered whenever he was close, finding it hard not to get flustered himself. He was impatient for things to move forward but he knew it would all pan out. There was only one wrench in the plan; your boyfriend Sean.

The other night when Steve had followed you home and witnessed Sean manhandle you in your apartment he began thinking of how to remove him from the picture. Steve did his research on Sean and found it suspicious he couldn’t find anything on him. Usually after a little digging you can find something off about anyone, but not him. Steve knew it would take a little more effort, but for you he’d make it.

So that’s how Steve wound up spending his night off in the corner of the dive bar that was just off campus. Off campus enough that you’d need to drive there. He had tailed Sean’s Jeep there after his club soccer game in hopes of finding something he could actually use to justify getting rid of him for you. He groused as he pulled into the parking garage across the street and pocketed his parking stub. He waited a few beats and watched Sean leave his car.

He slinked in the door and grabbed a dimly lit corner booth. The residue of whatever cleaner this place used was causing his forearms to stick to the table at his booth and the air stunk of vape smoke. He was surrounded by other 20-somethings, awkward Tinder hookups and frat bros meeting up to blow off steam.

On the opposite side of the room he spotted Sean, watched him as he approached the bar for another pint. He’d followed him here in hopes of getting some sort of information on him that he could use. After an hour of nursing one beer and absolutely nothing happening with Sean Steve had been ready to give up.

Just as he was getting ready to down the rest of his drink the door had opened and in walked a girl around his age. She looked nervous but excited as she looked around the place. She nearly squealed as she rushed over when she found who she was looking for. A smile slowly crawled across Steve’s face as the girl rushed into Sean’s arms and embraced him with a kiss. This is exactly what Steve needed to get him out of the picture.

Steve discreetly took out his phone and snapped a few photos, even got a video of them kissing again. He figured this would be enough to blackmail Sean into leaving you. Getting what he needed, he grabbed his jacket and left the bar. He felt light as a feather walking home, his plan was finally setting into motion and it wouldn’t be long until you were together.

Tuesday had finally come and Steve’s good mood only carried over. He practically skipped to the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at. He grabbed a table and waited for you. When he saw you open the door he was grinning ear to ear but his expression quickly changed taking in your appearance. You looked exhausted, like you’d been crying again. This wouldn’t do.

“What’s wrong? Is it your boyfriend again?” Steve asked.

You nodded silently and set down your bag with a huff.

“He’s just been out really late lately, I feel like he’s never home. Then again I’m always out late.”

“Well I’m glad you’re a night owl, otherwise we wouldn’t have met” Steve tried to turn the conversation back to them and to keep it positive.

“I guess you’re right. You didn’t order anything?” You frowned, noticing his empty hands.

“I was waiting for you, it’s my treat.” You opened your mouth to protest but Steve was quick to add, “Don’t even try to argue with me on this one.”

You sighed but ultimately relented, following him to the counter. He let you order first.

“Um, just a small hot chocolate please, thank you so much”

Steve thought it was cute that you didn’t drink caffeine, he knew hot chocolate was your drink of choice. He knew this of course from hours of pouring over every profile of yours he could find on the internet. He even found your tumblr you were just sure nobody knew about. Turns out you’ve got quite the dirty mind. But that was a thought for another day. Steve turned back to the counter and ordered black coffee and paid the bill.

With drinks in hand you made your way back to your table and settled in for an afternoon of art history. It went smoothly overall and Steve even got you to laugh a few times. He’d perfectly played his balance of pretending not to know about the subject while seeming to be learning what you were teaching. He could tell you felt proud of yourself for accomplishing something and he was happy he could make you feel that way. He was sure he was the only one that could.

You called it a day and said your goodbyes, you went in for an awkward hug which Steve accepted wholeheartedly. He’d even managed to finally snag your number so you two could work out more study times. Maybe you were coming around much easier than he anticipated. He smiled to himself and on the walk home began to devise a plan to get rid of Sean. It’d only be a matter of days if everything went accordingly.

____

You were basking in the rare day off, taking every moment to enjoy doing absolutely nothing. You’d felt drained lately from your class workload, late nights at the library, and your elevating fights with Sean. He was at work today followed by an evening class so you had uninterrupted alone time. Around 10pm it took every ounce of your free will to get off the couch and get the mail.

You milled over to your box and jammed the key in. Pulling the mail out your head titled in curiosity at the large unmarked manila folder. No return address written, only yours but there was nothing indicating whether it was for you or Sean. You’d open it when you got back upstairs.

Finally back to your spot on the couch your fingers slowly undid the folder’s metal clasp and you reached inside for its contents. Out came several photos and a hastily written note. You held the grainy photos closer to your face to make out what they were. When you did your heart plummeted and you went into emotional shock.

Though the photos were grainy it was very clear what they were of. Shots of Sean and some mystery brunette making out in a bar. Sean with his arm around her waist, Sean with his hand on her ass. All the photos were timestamped for only a few days ago when he claimed his soccer game was running late. You dropped them instantly and they scattered to the floor.

Your heart was hammering in your ears, you didn’t know what to think. Sean was the only boyfriend you’d ever really had, Sean loved you, you loved him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remembered there was a note. You searched for it and tried to read it through the tears that were beginning to blur your vision.

‘I know what you did. You tell her or I will. You have three days’

You didn’t recognize the handwriting. Who would send this? Why would they send it? You and Sean didn’t have many friends and you couldn’t picture them doing this. Maybe this is some prank? Maybe the timestamp is wrong and this is before you were together.

Sean was all you’d ever known and you shared an apartment, it’s not like you’d have anywhere to go or anyone to turn to. Should you confront him with these? It’s not like you two were exactly good at solving your problems. Would he leave you if you showed him these? What then?

Your mind was spinning, unsure of what to do with this new information. Maybe you could keep quiet about this, try to spend some more time with Sean, make him see what the two of you have. Maybe you can ask him to be home more, maybe you could be home more too.

You took a deep breath and wiped your tears before you gathered the photos and put them back into the envelope. You decided you’d hold onto them for now, tucking them away in your drawer of the dresser. Deciding you’d just work yourself up if you stayed up you shot Sean a text goodnight and went to bed.

Morning came and he was snuggled into your side, the comfort you felt had you feeling like everything might be okay for a moment. You stayed in bed just a little longer and turned so he could hold you in his arms. Your heart felt so unsure and scared, but you didn’t know what else you could do.

The week passed by and you decided to shift more of your energy towards your relationship with Sean, pushing your nights at the library to the backburner. You still hadn’t told him about the envelope but you did tell him you missed him and wished he was home more. He relented and was home four nights this week instead of his usual two.

The time together was uncomfortable but you kept telling yourself that things were getting a little better over time, even if your studies were suffering for it. As the week went on you were able to suppress your doubts about your relationship a bit more. Sean loved you and you loved him.

You couldn’t ignore the oncoming threat of midterms forever, though. The last thing you wanted was to be alone because you knew that your thoughts would just spiral but you needed to do well this semester so you grabbed your bag and headed out.

You swipe through the doors, almost looking forward to seeing Steve. You’d blown off your study session with a profuse apology so you could be with Sean. You were eager to apologize in person but found the reference desk to be completely abandoned. You frowned, maybe Steve was putting away books or something. You’d see him eventually though, for now you had an essay to write.

Hours could have gone by and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting so much done though, it felt good to be focused on something other than your own thoughts.

“Where’ve you been?”

You jump in your seat. You turn around to find Steve emerging from the shelves that were just out of your view. He wore a neutral expression but you could cut the tension with a knife. He stepped forward and you debated on what to say.

“Sorry, I had to cancel with you this week. How are you getting along?”

“Nothing another tutoring session couldn’t fix, I’m sure. Were you sick? I feel like you haven’t been here in forever. The nights get awful lonely without ya here”

Why did Steve keep making statements like that when he knew you had a boyfriend? It was driving you insane and getting harder to ignore them.

“Um, no, I was with Sean, actually. But y’know, can’t avoid midterms forever” You gave a half-hearted laugh hoping to lighten things up.

Steve’s neutral expression is slipping, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. But his face broke out into a small smile, putting you at ease instantly. He clapped you on the shoulder and took a step back.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. We still on for Tuesday?”

You gave him an easy smile and nodded.

“I’ll be counting the days” With that Steve disappeared back between the shelves.

____

The moment Steve placed the envelope in the mail he felt a confidence he hadn’t felt before. All he had to do was wait for you to open the envelope and everything would take its course. He knew Sean was at work and you’d be the one to get the mail that day. From his spot he’d peered in your windows all those weeks ago he watched you open the photos. You dropped them to the ground and held a hand to your mouth to cover what looked like a sob. Steve smiled to himself, now all you had to do was leave him.

The week went on and Steve figured you might need a little time to break it off and he’d be there at the library, waiting to comfort you. It’s not like you had any other friends in your life to turn to. But then you cancelled your study session with no explanation. Steve figured maybe you were still in shock, needed to cry it out alone. Then two days turned to four turned to seven.

Steve was confused, he was infuriated even. Why hadn’t you come to the library yet? Why hadn’t you texted him? There’s no way that you were actually going to stay with him after you saw him with another woman. Except that’s exactly what he did.

Looking back on it Steve recognized his mistakes. He knew you were shy and meek, sweet, it’s what he loved about you. But he should’ve accounted for this to happen. You were too sweet for your own good, wanting to make it work with Sean. It was an obstacle he hadn’t seen but this is just a slight bump in the plan. He can work around it.

When he saw you coming up the steps on the security camera he made himself scarce, not ready to face you just yet. He gave you some hours to study before he made himself known to you. He could tell just by the way you talked that you were in complete denial about what was happening. You weren’t strong enough to leave him but that’s okay, Steve is strong enough for the both of you right now, he’ll help you get there.

____

Just when you thought things were getting better Sean was back to becoming distant, going out with his teammates and coming home still a little drunk. The more you thought about those photos and thought about how he slipped back into old habits so easily the more you were working up the courage to confront him. You weren’t sure if you’d leave him, but maybe it would make him change.

Then the second envelope came. More photos of them kissing and leaving the bar together. They were time stamped just two nights ago. Your heart fell through the floor as you tried to make sense of things. How much of this could you put up with? When was enough? You needed to confront him when he got home.

You texted him to try to come home early tonight, saying it was important. You spent the rest of the evening planning out your words and trying to quell the oncoming panic attacks. Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it it was midnight and you still had no word from Sean. You couldn’t spend one more minute alone, you needed to get out. You needed a friend.

Your body was on autopilot as your feet carried you up the steps of the library. Steve wasn’t at the desk and you felt almost distressed. You knew he’d be a good third party to talk all this out to and you didn’t know what to think when he wasn’t there. You decided to shoot him a text.

‘Hey, I know you usually work Thursdays, I’ll be at my usual spot, I could really use a friend if you’re not too busy’ Did that sound too desperate? At this point you didn’t care.

You sunk down into your chair on the second floor with a huff. You hadn’t brought your bag so it’s not like you could study to distract yourself. As it turned out you didn’t need to.

“I’m never too busy for you, doll. ‘Specially not at this job” Steve’s voice carried as he rounded a corner into your sight.

You felt instantly better before you realized you were crying. It was hard to be vulnerable but if you could trust anyone with this it was Steve. You gave him a weak smile as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“What’s wrong? Do you need tissues?”

“No, sorry, I just.” You were struggling to find the words. “Sean is cheating on me”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists, he looked absolutely furious for you.

“Are you serious? That bastard! Doll, I’m so sorry. Have you confronted him?” His hand reached for yours and his thumb rubbed light circles.

“I-I, I haven’t said...anything. I just. He loves me y’know? Why would he do that? He’s all I have? What happens if he leaves me where will I stay I’ll be completely alone, I’ll-”

You had worked yourself into a panic attack as you desperately tried to take gulps of air while tears streamed down your face. You were losing touch with your surroundings and spiraling into a place you couldn’t get yourself out of. Steve moved his chair closer to you and brought you into his lap. He held your back to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You could just make out what he was saying.

“Doll, it’s okay, I need you to breathe with me, can you do that? Take a deep breath in with me. Hold it and count to five with me,” You do but you’re still struggling. “Now exhale, count again for me. You’re doing so well, you can do this.”

Eventually Steve is able to bring you back down to Earth and you slumped back into his arms. You don’t care that Steve is holding you, it feels safe. You shifted so you could lean your head against his chest and let out a heavy sigh. He holds you to himself and lets you sit there for a while.

You don’t know how much time passes but you sit up slowly and he’s reluctant to let you go. You wipe your eyes as you go back to your own chair.

“Sorry, I’m keeping you from your job. Sorry I just totally came here and freaked out” You were starting to feel embarrassed, oversharing your life and emotions with him. You really liked him, you didn’t want to think you’d ruined the friendship.

“Don’t even apologize. You can always come to me.” He gave you a warm smile and you felt reassured. “So what are you going to do about Sean?”

Another hour had gone by with Steve and you could see the sun starting to come through the windows. You had decided you would confront him and go from there. You weren’t ready to fully commit to leaving him but this needed to end one way or another. For the first time in two weeks you felt like things were maybe going to be okay. The next time you saw Sean you were going to confront him.

____

Clearly seeing that you weren’t going to do anything after he sent the photos, he had to go to plan B. Steve waited outside the practice field and followed him to the parking structure once again. He jammed the parking stub in his jacket pocket along with the others and repeated his previous trips here. It was astounding how unaware Sean was of his surroundings, Steve had followed him and that girl from the bar back to her place at least twice now.

Getting what he needed he put another envelope in the mail the next day, this time with no note but the photos were more upsetting. It hurt Steve to hurt you but it’s what needed to be done. You were never going to confront him with things as they were so he had to push the envelope, literally and metaphorically. The hurt would be worth it though, because you came crying to him just like he’d hoped you would. Seeing your text warmed his heart, you needed him and he’d be there. Every time.

He knew he’d be comforting you but he didn’t think that he’d get to hold you. He was hiding his smile as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you down from your panic attack. You did so well listening to him and calming down. He was convinced he was the only one that could help you, you just needed to see that.

Steve abandoned his cart of books that needed to be shelved but he couldn’t care less. He’d stay up all night with you every night if that’s what it took. As dawn broke the two of you devised a plan and he built you up to say something. You weren’t committed to leaving him, which Steve wasn’t happy about, but you were committed to confronting him, if only you’d get the chance.

Based on what Steve knew of both yours and Sean's schedules you’d just miss each other between classes during the day and Sean had a game tonight, which would inevitably lead to a night at the bar. All Steve had to do was wait. He had to contain his excitement, things were finally finally falling right into place, they just needed a final push.

Nightfall came and this time Steve beat Sean to the structure. Steve parked on the top level and stuck the parking stub in his pocket. He didn’t feel like he was taking a risk by counting on Sean to follow routine, he was a good boy, he’d park in his same spot he always did and proceed to get wasted across the street.

A slow smile creeped across Steve’s face as Sean and his teammates stumbled into the bar, probably already drunk from pre-gaming. Sean’s sidepiece wouldn’t come to the bar tonight, her sorority having some dumb mixer or another. Steve reminded himself of his mantra to wait. His phone buzzed and he saw it was a text from you. You two had been texting after you came to him in the library.

‘He’s not responding to my texts. I know he had a game tonight but I really thought he’d be here’

He’d have to text you back another time, Steve needed to be on his toes tonight. He sat at what was becoming his usual booth for nearly two hours, barely touching his pint. Finally Sean paid his tab and said goodnight to his friends. Steve pulled down the brim of his hat and pursued him towards the parking structure. Drunken and fumbling up through the stairwell, Steve entered behind him quietly while taking out a knife he’d stolen from Bucky. He always knew his friend’s strange obsession with them would come in handy someday.

Just as Sean was about to take the final step Steve grabbed him from behind. Sean’s reactions may have been slowed but it hadn’t stopped him trying to thrash out of the grip. His efforts stopped immediately as Steve held the blade to his throat. He spoke clearly and in a low voice.

“Keep walking up the stairs or I will slit your fucking throat, do you hear me?” He brought the knife closer to his neck to drive home the threat.

“E-easy man, please, please don’t do this”

“Keep moving. Up.”

Steve pushed him all the way towards his car at the edge of the top level. He flipped Sean around so his back was to the ledge, the knife still trained closely on him. Pleads for mercy fell on deaf ears.

“What do you wan’!? You wan’ money!? Take, take my wallet man I don’t need it, jus’ please don’t kill me please!”

Steve pushed him slightly, though his grip on him remained tight. Sean struggled against him as his body weight wavered over the ledge. He must have realised how far up they were because he started crying at this point, begging even harder as he teetered and trying desperately to get his bearings against the wall.

“Why are you doing this!?” He wailed, “I’ll do anything, please! Please, I have a girlfriend, I have a family”

That was all that it took. Steve was feeling a high like he’d never felt. He knew at this moment he was doing the right thing for both of you. With a rush of adrenaline and in a flash of certainty he pushed Sean’s body over the edge. He didn’t watch him fall the seven stories down to the ground, but he did wait to hear the sickening crack and thud of his body hitting the ground. There was no way he’d survived.

Blood rushing through his ears, he felt euphoric, so powerful, so in love with you. He climbed back into his car and headed for his apartment. His plan wasn’t quite complete yet though, but everything he needed to do was done. He could watch the rest unfold from the sidelines. He knows you’ll be heartbroken all over again when you find out, but he’ll be there to pick up the pieces.

____

You’d been in mourning for nearly two months. The shock you’d felt wasn’t comparable to any other feeling you’d felt. The police ultimately ruled his death an accident, they performed an autopsy and found dangerous amounts of alcohol in his system. They weren’t able to pinpoint an exact time of death but estimated 2-3 AM, as he’d been found in the morning. They figured he’d just gotten piss drunk and came too close to the edge. And he was gone just like that.

His death weighed heavy on you, you blamed yourself for a long time. He wouldn’t have stayed out if you hadn’t pushed him so far away from you. The last thing you ever said to him was nagging and whiny, no wonder he didn’t want to come home. To think that you were possibly going to leave him. You felt so much self-contempt but slowly you were learning to forgive yourself.

You don’t know what you’d have done without Steve by your side. He was there for you every step of the way. He held you at the funeral, he helped you pack up Sean’s things in the apartment, he took your late night phone calls and came over at the drop of a hat to help you through your grief. You were eternally grateful for his selflessness and his willingness to help you heal.

Guilt loomed over you once again as the old feelings you’d had for Steve in the early days of your friendship started to flare up again. It felt natural to feel them, with him being closer to you than he ever was, but it didn’t stop you from feeling shame over it. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t culpable for anything that happened, that Sean himself was interested in someone else when he’d died. You had to forgive yourself for these feelings for Steve. Maybe even pursue them.

‘Can you come over tonight? I think we should talk’ Your nerves were on fire from the rush you got sending him that text.

‘How about you come to my place? 7? We can go for something to eat if you want.’ Your heart was fluttering, was this a date?

‘Sounds good :)’

Checking the time you saw it was 4, you spent the next few hours obsessing over what to say. No matter what you were determined to tell him your feelings for him. You were debating whether or not you should kiss him. Would he even want you back? What if he only sees you as a friend now? The hours whiled away and you took a deep breath before setting out.

You’d been to Steve’s apartment only once before, you knew he lived alone but he’d managed to make the place feel homey. You were buzzed in and before you had the chance to knock on the door Steve had it open and was waiting for you. His smile was all teeth and it was contagious, you smiled back looking up at him and he let you in.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Steve. No turning back now. Deep breath. He sat down and turned to face you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

No words were coming to you. Your mouth opened but you could only sputter. Oh God, where were the words? Do something!

So you did. Before you could think about it you put a shaky hand up to Steve’s jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. You didn’t know what you were feeling, you were just waiting for Steve to respond. You began to pull back but before you could he took your face in his hands and kissed you back tenderly but with purpose. Your arms were around him and he pulled you closer into his lap to kiss you more passionately.

You finally pulled apart to catch your breath. You snuck a look up to his face and you were nervous but you felt like you were floating.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” He said between breaths.

You two smiled like idiots and he brought his lips to yours again. The kiss deepened and a moan slipped from your mouth. This seemed to spark something in Steve and his hands shakily moved over your body. He was feeling every curve of you and you ground down into his lap and his hips bucked up in response. You have no idea where this confidence came from but you’d never felt more sure of yourself. You broke apart again and Steve was breathing heavily.

“Is this what you want?” He asked. You could only nod before he was on you again. He pulled you up from the couch and led you to his bed. This time he laid you back and was hovering over you, slowly undoing the buttons of your jeans. You helped him get yourself out of them and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. How was this happening? Who cares?

He sat back and took the sight of you in, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing. He slowly removed his clothes and moved back over you, kissing his way up your thighs before pulling your panties down your legs. He continued laving away at your skin, making you nervous but excited. His fingers brushed your core and he brought them up to his face.

“Sweetheart, you are dripping.” Your cheeks heated instantly as he chuckled. Not giving you the chance to respond he dove right in. Two fingers entered you and you arched your back, his tongue lapped up your wetness and then at your clit. You’d really never known pleasure like this, no one had ever done this for you before. His fingers pumped in and out of you and your hands flew to his hair and pulled. He continued on and curved his fingers just slightly and you clenched down around him, you were so close.

“Please, I’m so close” you whimpered.

Steve doubled his efforts and before you knew it the tension he had been building up was released in a white hot flash of ecstasy. You writhed against his fingers as he kept pumping them into you. Finally he relented, pulling them out and licking them clean. You’d never seen something that made you feel so filthy but so so good.

He took off his boxers and encased you in his arms. He kissed your neck and you moaned again at the feeling. You spread yourself for him and he lined himself up and groaned. The stretch was something you weren’t ready for. It burned almost, you cried out as he put his whole length in you. He waited all of two seconds before he began thrusting into you. You weren’t ready but you were adjusting quickly with the way his cock hit that spot inside of you over and over.

You were holding onto his shoulders, nails digging in deep as he started to go harder and faster.

“I’m close” He panted into your ear.

Reaching down his fingers found your clit and started moving back and forth quickly, trying to match his thrusts. The tension was building again to a breaking point and you were getting close again. He worked you even harder until you broke, cumming for a second time. Your eyes were screwed shut in ecstasy as you cried again.

“Steve!”

That was all it took before he slammed into you a final time, you could feel his release and you’d never felt closer to him. His movements stopped and your noses touched. He kissed you hard before rolling off of you.

“That was… oh my god” you breathed.

“I know, me too” Steve chuckled. “So can I take you to dinner?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” You grinned wide and nodded.

You cleaned yourself up and redressed. You were taking in Steve’s room and found yourself smiling at the photos of him and Bucky, little knick-knacks on his dresser. You found a sticky note on the calendar at his desk. You squinted. Had you seen his handwriting before?

You shrugged and flopped yourself back on the bed. You checked the weather on your phone and frowned at the temperature, you let out a small groan.

“What is it?” Steve called from the bathroom as he cleaned up.

“It’s so coooold and I forgot my jacket” You pouted.

“Just take mine, it’s the brown leather one hanging in the living room” He was so sweet.

Gingerly, you made your way into the living room and found the jacket, slipping it on. You don’t know what was taking Steve so long but you shoved your hands in the pockets and waited for him. You felt something in the right pocket. Is this trash? You pulled out little wadded up pieces of paper and unfolded them.

They were parking stubs. They were from the same structure that Sean had fallen from. Your heart was pounding, upset just thinking of him. Looking closer one of them was stamped for 2:15 AM, 2/1, the night that he died. Okay...

1 AM 1/15, 11:57PM 1/28, They matched the timestamp on the photos that had been sent to you. Two others were from nights when Sean had games and had stayed out late. Your heart was in your throat and tears were forming in your eyes, trying to find some explanation. You thought again of the first time you’d received an envelope, those photos, that note. It had dawned on you why the note looked so familiar… The handwriting! Oh, God... Your whole world slowed down as you heard footsteps bound into the room. Slowly you turned, the stubs still in your shaking hands.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve took a step further, “You weren’t supposed to see those.”

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

Continued from this post, Part 3 of my discussion of Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage. This time: what happens to espionage assets in the long run? Do they break contact, and why? What might have been in store for Essek?

At the treaty meeting Essek tells Ludinus to his face that he wants no further contact with the Assembly, not even to learn what the Assembly discovers via their own beacon. He’s far from the first asset to try to sever their relationship, and it ends in one of three ways: they don’t manage to break contact, they break contact but voluntarily return, or (rarest of all) they end the relationship permanently. 

Most attempts don’t go beyond option 1, because intelligence agencies are not in the business of respecting their assets’ choices. Handlers are skilled in keeping the upper hand in their asset relationships and will take any further opportunity to gain leverage by compromising the asset. For instance they’ll often pay for information even if the asset hasn’t requested it, because money changing hands makes it far harder for an asset to frame their activities positively to their own side if they attempt to confess (”You expect us to believe they were blackmailing you when you got $10,000 to hand over the secret manual?” etc.) And when push comes to shove most people aren’t willing to accept the severe punishments for espionage. An asset’s threat to confess is more likely a negotiating ploy than a serious option.

Some assets, especially nervous or ego-driven ones, get the carrot: the KGB did a strong line in awarding secret medals to convince them they were doing important, well-regarded work and that the KGB would protect them - not an empty reassurance, as highly-placed moles like Aldrich Ames warranted elaborate ops involving double and triple agents to avert suspicions. And some assets get the stick: the handler tightens the screws using whatever leverage they’ve gained, implies that they’re already “too far in to go back,” or gives some time for those who were blackmailed into spying to think about the consequences of exposure.[1]

Those who get as far as option two, breaking it off and later returning, are usually driven away by fear but back by finances. Fantasy spies have all sorts of motives but in real life the majority are in it for the money. Assets, as you might imagine, make bad choices. About half start selling secrets just to stave off massive debt from overspending and poor financial decisions (the rest feel underpaid.) So even if these assets stop temporarily, the circumstances that drove them to espionage in the first place are still very much present. In these cases all a handler has to do is shrug and say, “You know where to find us.” Infamous FBI mole Robert Hanssen broke off contact with his Russian handlers when the Soviet Union collapsed, fearing he might get outed in the chaos, but linked back up with them just 10 months later when, surprise surprise, he needed some cash.

And then there are the rare handful who stop completely. There’s a bit of survivor(?) bias here because anyone who passes along secrets, breaks off the relationship before being caught, and manages to get away with it is by definition someone we don’t know about. Those who do manage to break contact long-term are usually able to do so because they left the situation that gave them access to interesting secrets and therefore the controlling agency determined they were no longer a useful resource and not worth pursuing. But even if an asset stops working for an agency, they’re far from forgotten - and far from off the hook. Names and evidence of their espionage would be kept on file for potential use as blackmail, leverage in state-to-state negotiations, or expendable material to prove bona fides in ops involving fake defectors or triple agents. A surprising number of spies are caught/outed years after their espionage ended.

Very few assets permanently sever their espionage relationships the hard way: making a genuine confession and accepting punishment. But it’s not unheard-of, especially if the espionage was brief and the asset believes the damage can be repaired. In 1989 Army signals analyst Michael Peri disappeared from his post in West Germany along with a portable computer containing numerous classified documents. Eleven days later he returned to his previous post with the computer and voluntarily confessed to the theft and sort-of defection to East Germany. When interrogated, Peri - who had been a model soldier until that point - said he felt overworked and underappreciated by his superiors, though he couldn’t entirely explain his decisions either to leave or to return (a sexy female Russian agent might also have been involved). He received a 30-year sentence.

Marine Clayton Lonetree, a guard stationed at the US Embassy in Moscow in 1985, was blackmailed over an affair to hand over details on the embassy compound for a year, but his conscience finally got the better of him and he confessed in late 1986. Being a Marine he faced the very real prospect of death by firing squad, but the court martial ended up giving him a 30-year sentence. It was later reduced to 15 after the Marine Corps Commandant wrote a letter to the Navy Secretary on his behalf attributing the young Marine’s actions not to treason or greed but to loneliness, naivety, and poor judgement.[2]

Going back to Essek’s case, he’s already in the minority of espionage assets because he doesn’t want money in return for the secrets he passes along; though the knowledge the Assembly promises him in return fulfills a similar desire, Essek doesn’t need that knowledge to pay off the equivalent of debt or to maintain his lifestyle. He has no pressures at home that force him to continue spying. With the beacons returned, the fall guys in place, and their tracks seemingly covered, he tells Ludinus that all he wants is to be rid of the entire affair. That rules out option one (he sincerely means to cut the Assembly off) and option two (he won’t be driven back by need.) 

Essek is also in an unusual position in that the worst of the damage he caused is repairable - just return the beacons.[3] A secret, once compromised, can’t be un-compromised. If an asset hands over a cipher machine they can’t fix the situation by stealing the cipher machine back; the foreign agency they sold it to has already studied the machine and learned its secrets, meaning it’s now effectively useless. But returning the beacons restores what the Kryn lost. While keeping dunamancy secret gives the Kryn a tactical edge, and I’m sure the Dynasty would prefer to keep the magical soulstones of their elite hidden from their long-time rival, the beacons don’t need to be secret to work. Essek therefore has a much better chance than most to simply repair the damage, cut off his handlers, and try to forget the whole affair ever happened. He might even think that, now that the Assembly has their own beacon, they’ll have no further use for him and will just leave him alone.

But from the Cerberus Assembly's perspective, this fruit still has plenty of juice in it and they risk nothing by continuing to squeeze. Now that they have their own beacon Essek’s knowledge becomes even more valuable. He has access to hundreds of years of dunamantic spellcrafting - and more importantly the rite of consecution, since the Assembly were probably after beacons in the first place to make themselves immortal. If Essek is caught, it’s treason for him, but the Assembly doesn’t suffer; they were doing it for the good of the Empire, learning about dunamancy to help the war effort. So if he refuses to keep spying voluntarily for the Assembly, they’ll just have to find another way to motivate him. 

As part of evaluating Essek before recruitment, Assembly operatives would have noted that he’s, well, highly motivated to save his own skin. Ludinus’ goal therefore becomes to make Essek see further espionage as the only way to stay alive. So instead of confronting Essek then and there, Ludinus shrugs and goes, “Okay. Sure.” Then he activates the Volstruckers, maybe leaks a little info to the Dynasty about a traitor in their midst, and sets up Essek to stew in fear, feeling isolated and attacked from both sides - targeted by the Assembly for his defiance, under suspicion from the Dynasty, unable to ask for help because of his crimes. Ludinus sits back and waits for Essek to re-establish contact on his own. Of course Ludinus didn’t know that the M9 had confronted Essek and gotten him to confess, making a return to spying impossible even if he tried.

While Essek’s motives revolve around ego, frustration, and rebellion, his situation is more like those of people who end up defecting because they’re unable to pursue their careers or live as they want to back home. He has virtually no social/family ties to leave behind, no loyalty to Dynasty authority, and no religious fervor to defend the Luxon, while the Assembly promises him the company of like minds and free rein in his experiments. Assuming no intervention by the M9 I think Essek would have ended up defecting to the Cerberus Assembly. If he did it early enough in the story he might have even joined the Volstruckers to complete the narrative foil transformation.

If the crew had confronted him at the treaty but not offered mercy I think he would have defected purely out of fear, thinking the Assembly were the only people who could protect him from both the Dynasty and the M9. He was already on edge watching the guy he'd set up to take the fall getting walked away in chains and with the Assembly's Wind of Aeons ship right there it would be the ideal time to make the move. Assuming the treaty confrontation went as it did (the crew makes him confess but lets him live) but the M9 hadn’t shown up in Eiselcross, Essek would likely have fled the outpost and gone into hiding in a bid to outrun his crimes (and probably gotten caught two weeks later given how awful he was at being “Dezrain Thane.”)

Essek is far from the first recruited asset to regret what they did even as they kept doing it. Those who can sell out their nation and not feel even a pang of guilt are thankfully thin on the ground. Most start off doing what seems to be a favor for a friend - or accepting a favor from a friend who wants to help with their “financial difficulties” - and end up so deep they can’t see any way forward other than to keep handing over secrets. He’s one more in a long line of those who compromised information out of frustration, especially through the appeal to shared professional interests (that’s how industrial assets tend to be recruited.)

But he’s also in a much better place to make up for it than most assets. Since he primarily compromised property, not secrets, returning said property can (somewhat, mostly) repair the damage done, which goes a long way towards buying leniency from the powers that be. And now I’m realizing that this post actually needs one final part, which is: how do you try someone for espionage, and should you charge them with it in the first place?

[1]  While spy dramas love sexy blackmail, and handlers will happily collect it to leverage against a balky asset, it works far less often in reality as a main reason for espionage. Social penalties for extramarital affairs pale before actual legal penalties like the death sentence for treason. On the other hand, those with foreign relatives are sometimes coerced by threats against those relatives.

[2]  Lonetree’s case for leniency got a boost in 1994 when Aldrich Ames was finally caught and some serious breaches of embassy security that had been attributed to Lonetree were found to be Ames’ work instead. In 1996 Lonetree was released after having served 9 years total.

[3] Although I did just think of a really messed-up Cerberus Assembly plan: consecute a handful of completely loyal Volstruckers, kill them, and send the beacons back so said agents will be reborn in the Dynasty and work to undermine it from within. How fucked up would that be?? Campaign 3 plot hook anyone?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)