#[ I'm just extremely grateful for those who are here with me still ]

[seungkw1]

better late than never — kmg

♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], best friends to lovers, non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.7k ♡ warnings: size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), riding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, mingyu is a boob guy, praise kink if u squint ♡ a/n: written for my bestie <3 and posting just in time for his birthday - happy mingyu day!!

knock-knock-knock-knock

“come on! let me in!!” 

you approach your front door, but you don’t unlock it yet. 

“what happened to the copy of my key i gave you?” you inquire to the voice on the other side. 

“i forgot it!” 

you turn the deadbolt, opening the door to reveal the man standing outside - the look on his face is sheepish as he stands there, arms full of grocery bags. 

“kim mingyu i asked you to get me three things, not the entire store,” you say incredulously. 

“i saw your fridge the other day. you literally only had cheese, beer, and a jar of pickles in there,” he retorts, shooting you a judgemental look. 

“the three main food groups.”

mingyu rolls his eyes as he enters your apartment. “whatever, i'm cooking you dinner. a real dinner.”

“aye aye captain,” you say as you jokingly salute him. 

you met mingyu freshman year of college, when he burst through the door of your dorm room - thinking it was his own (he was on the wrong floor). his eyes turned wide as saucers as he realized his mistake. 

“SORRY,” he blurted out before fleeing out of the room. he was gone before you had even processed what happened. 

the next day he returned - this time knocking first. you opened the door to see the tall man, holding two packs of ramen. 

“sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, still a bit embarrassed. “i'm an idiot and thought i was on the sixth floor.”

“you're not an idiot, mistakes happen. it's okay,” you assured him amiably. 

“thanks, i’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything,” he replied with a smile. he extended the ramen to you. “it’s not much but i just… felt like i should bring a gift for some reason?” he told you, looking like he was second guessing himself as the words came out of his mouth. 

“ooo it’s the good kind too,” you replied eagerly as you took the ramen from him. “you wanna have one right now?”

he looked surprised, but delighted at your suggestion. 

“actually that would be awesome, those were my last two,” he admits with a laugh. you grin back at him. 

“well, come on in. again.”

–

and so mingyu inadvertently became your best friend. if not for the dorm incident, you probably never would have even crossed paths with him - he was your typical business bro, while you were majoring in psychology and literature. but, something just clicked between you two. 

a handful of years later now, he’s still your closest friend. and here he is, in your kitchen, grabbing the appropriate pots, pans, and utensils to get started on his spaghetti carbonara. as independent of a person as you are, you're not particularly the best chef - so you're grateful for his culinary expertise and willingness to make food for you. 

over dinner, mingyu is his usual chatty self. he tells you about his day, about how his neighbor has picked up the irritating hobby of learning to play the trumpet, about the dog he met yesterday while at the park, about his new coworker who seems to like him a little too much. 

“well, is she cute?” you ask nonchalantly, swirling the wine in your glass.  

“huh?” your question seems to catch him off guard. “i don't know. i mean, i've never thought about it.”

“bullshit,” you tell him, taking a big sip. 

“it's true!”

“right. well think about it, is she?”

“she's conventionally attractive i guess. i don't know why it matters though,” he says sincerely. 

“well if she likes you and she’s cute, you should ask her out.”

“that would be extremely unprofessional,” he scoffs, appalled at your suggestion. “besides, she's not my type.”

“what, is she weird or something?”

“no. and besides, i like weird. but i definitely don't see her like that.”

“what do you mean, you like weird?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“i mean, you’re weird. and i like you.” he says it matter-of-factly, as if he was telling you the grass is green. 

“okay well obviously you don't want to date me,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “but come on, you haven't dated anyone in years. i'm trying to help to you here.”

the expression on his face changes, but you can't quite decipher what he’s thinking. 

“i don't need help.”

you give him a weird look. 

“not like that!” he quickly insists. “i just mean, don't worry about me, i’m fine.”

“ooookay, whatever you say gyu.”

his face remains calm, but you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly. normally, he’s not a fan of the nickname, but you know you're the only one who's allowed to call him that. he’s told you before. 

“well, what about you?” he asks suddenly. 

you look at him while chewing a big bite of pasta, confused. “what about me what?”

“are you, like… seeing anybody these days?” 

he speaks timidly, as if treading on eggshells. 

“why? are you asking me out?”

“ha ha, very funny,” he says sarcastically. he then shrugs. “i was just curious.”

“i actually did go on a date last week,” you admit. he looks up, surprised. 

“really? how'd it go?”

“surprisingly, really good,” you tell him.

“that's good. you have a long history of terrible first dates.”

“it was a second date, actually.”

mingyu pauses. “and you didn't tell me about the first one? fake as hell.”

“oh shut the fuck up,” you tease back, grinning at him. 

he picks up the bottle of wine sitting on the table. “should we finish this?” he asks. 

“duh.”

he removes the cork, pouring you another glass before refilling his own. 

after the delicious meal, you begin to clean up the kitchen, but mingyu quickly gets up and takes the dishes from your hands. 

“i got it.”

“you did all the cooking, let me do it,” you tell him. 

“nope,” he insists, already scrubbing plates. 

you help anyway, but mingyu is fast. the kitchen is sparkling within ten minutes. 

“damn, this looks better that it did before you got here,” you remark as you start the dishwasher. 

“don't go on a third date.”

you freeze. you look back at mingyu - he's reclining against the kitchen counter. his face, sincere. 

“what?” you ask hesitantly. 

“i said, don't go on a third date.”

he rises, walking toward you. he stops inches away from you, extending his arms, leaning his palms on the counter on either side of you. his face hovers above yours, his warm eyes locked onto yours. 

“gyu, are you drunk?” you ask, knowing full well he's not. your heart is suddenly pounding. 

“i'm not.” he brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “can i kiss you?”

you’re stunned, standing motionless, breathing deeply as he strokes your jawline softly with his thumb. sure, you’d thought about the possibility of dating mingyu before. more than once, even. and you figured he’d probably thought about dating you before. but truly, you never thought he had serious feelings for you. 

but here you are, pinned against your kitchen counter by your best friend. your best friend, who happens to be incredibly attractive. and the way your heart is racing - you really do want to kiss him right now. 

you try to think logically, rationalizing whether this is a good decision, but the emotional part of your brain takes control. you kiss him. you kiss him - and he kisses you, and you stand there, in your best friend’s arms, kissing each other, as if you'd both been waiting for this moment for years. and deep down, you know you have been. 

mingyu grabs hold of you, pulling you up onto the counter. you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands slowly up and down his torso, feeling his toned body through his soft shirt. he caresses you gently, kissing you still - you're suspended in time, just the two of you, bodies connected like never before. you suddenly cannot believe you've spent years with this man and never once made out with him - but better late than never. 

he softly brings his hands to your sides. your lips finally part - you instantly miss the sensation. he slides his hands under your shirt, pausing right before he reaches your breasts.  

“can i touch them?” he asks, his voice breathy. you nod fervously. he caresses your over your bra, kissing you again as he squeezes your tits in his large hands. you inadvertently let out a soft moan. mingyu grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. he looks at you in awe. 

“you're so perfect.” 

he is utterly gushing and swooning over you right now. you feel your heart skip a beat. 

you slip your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his abs and chest. he pulls his shirt off too, standing there before you. you've seen mingyu shirtless before, but not like this. his muscles are striking, perfectly sculpted - his golden, sunkissed skin glows beautifully. you feel a sudden, strong carnal urge to lick him, kiss him, bite him all over. 

you look up at him - the look in his eyes reciprocating your desire. you hop off the counter, taking his hands in yours. you pull his arms, tugging him in the direction of your room. his cheeks turns flush as he realizes your intent - a roguish grin spreads across his face, revealing his pointy canines you’ve always loved.

mingyu wastes no time taking your pants off as you throw yourself onto the bed, reclining against the soft pillows. he gazes at you lustfully as you lay there in your lingerie, unzipping his pants and pulling them off as fast as humanly possible. you feel throbbing in your core at the sight of him standing there - his light gray underwear doing absolutely nothing to disguise the prominent erection underneath. 

he crawls into bed, his body hovering above yours. you wrap your arms around his broad torso, pulling his large frame into yours as you begin to move your hips, grinding against his cock - the wet spot on your panties grows as you rub your cunt against him. it was clear from the moment he took his pants off that he is big, but feeling its length, its thickness, against your clothed pussy is making you clench around nothing - making you wish you were clenching around him instead. 

mingyu gently grabs your arms, pinning them next to your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. his lips lightly graze against yours. 

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly. you nod immediately. 

“yeah.”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you repeatedly. he gradually makes his way down your body, his hands moving to take your bra off, but he pauses.

“can i-”

“you can do whatever you want to me,” you interject.

you feel his cock twitch. “oh god, don't tell me that.”

he unclasps the hook, letting out a moan at the sight of your bare tits. immediately he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his lips. he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it - his hand squeezing and pinching the other as his cock grinds against your core. you're gone already - a moaning mess, putty in his hands. he eventually switches sides, cool air hitting the wetness remaining on your nipple. you get the feeling mingyu could suck your tits forever. 

he eventually moves on, planting kisses down your stomach as he situates himself between your legs. he kisses your inner thighs - slowly approaching your core, but not touching you just yet. you whimper as he finally touches his lips to your clit over your thoroughly wet underwear. he licks you slowly, his tongue running over the thin fabric several times before he slips his finger underneath, pulling your underwear aside, exposing your soaked core. he groans at the sight of it. 

“fuck, just as pretty as i imagined.”

you part your lips to say something, but your words become lost - instantly replaced with cries of pleasure as he begins eating you out. you run your fingers through his hair, grasping onto it as he sucks repeatedly on your clit. he places a large hand on your belly, applying pressure, as he takes two fingers to your pussy, slipping them in with ease. you moan as he begins to fuck you, your hips beginning to buck. 

“more,” you beg. 

you cry out as he adds a third finger - your cunt has never felt so full, but you know this is nothing compared to how his cock would feel in you. he continues sucking your clit, heat rising in your lower stomach as you feel yourself nearing orgasm. you writhe in pleasure, screaming mingyu’s name as he makes you cum - and he makes you cum hard. 

your head spins as you come down from your powerful high. as you catch your breath mingyu crawls back up, laying against you, his radiant body heat making your skin turn hot. he strokes your cheek, pressing his lips hungrily against yours once more. 

“can you… will you ride me?”

your pussy throbs at the mere thought. wordlessly you nod. mingyu reaches down, sliding your panties off before discarding his own underwear. you gasp softly as his cock springs free. you reach down, taking hold of it - its size making your hand appear tiny in comparison. he leans his head back, sighing as you stroke his length, your palm becoming wet with his precum.

you give him a push, rolling over on top of him. his tip grazes your wet cunt as you straddle him, his eyes locked onto yours intensely. you sit up, taking his cock in your hand, rubbing it against your folds a few times, before finally slipping it inside. you slowly lower yourself onto it, whining softly as its thickness stretches you. mingyu groans as you bottom out, sitting entirely on his cock. you haven’t even moved yet, but his breathing is heavy, inhaling deeply as he reaches up to grab onto your breasts. you begin to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down, his cock filling you up beyond anything you could’ve imagined. you gradually increase your pace, both of you moaning at the overwhelming sensation, until you are fully bouncing on his cock, your palms resting against his muscular chest to steady yourself as you unravel over him. 

mingyu begins to whimper. “you’re so fucking hot,” he utters between heavy breaths. “you’re gonna make me cum.” 

you ride him relentlessly, crying out at how good he feels inside you. his eyes close as he releases, thrusting his hips powerfully as he cums in your pussy - the warmth of his cum filling you up. your pace slows, riding him gently as he finishes, his moans tapering off as he begins to come down. you settle onto his cock, laying on him as you kiss him. he kisses you back lovingly, one hand running through your hair, the other caressing the small of your back. you lay there for a while, his chest rising up and down as he breathes deeply. your heartbeat slows, pounding heavily in your chest as you recover.

slowly, he finally pulls out. you roll to his side, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace, squeezing him with all your might. he giggles. 

“mingyu?” you ask softly after several moments of silence.

“hm?”

“you should’ve told me sooner.”

he sighs. “i wanted to - many times. but i didn’t want to risk our friendship. i didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“i think… i think i’ve always loved you. i just never realized it.”

mingyu smiles. he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“so… what does this mean? for us,” he asks you.

you look up - his warm eyes are fixated on you, optimistic, awaiting your answer.

“well, i really don’t think anything is going to change.” a nervous look washes over his face - you quickly add, “except that we fuck now and also i want you to be my boyfriend.”

he closes his eyes, letting out a laugh. he pulls you closer into his embrace.

“i like the sound of that.”

–

[penkura]

where you belong [2/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Sorry this has taken so long! I wanted to really progress these two and get some moments between them, so the chapter ended up bigger than planned! Next one is a good one I think. ;) Forgot to mention last time but Reader is going to be described as shorter than Law, and that height difference can be your own interpretation (I'm 5ft tall, these men would tower over me).

I am also FLOORED at how well received the first chapter was and that we've got a taglist for this series, my gosh. You guys are so sweet and wonderful!! If I missed you on the taglist PLEASE let me know and I will add you to the future chapters! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the beginning of Law and Reader falling for each other!

Taglist:

@pinksaiyans | @sukunas-play-thing | @spiderlily-w1tch-blog | @mineymak | @valen-yamyam16 | @shimmerxc | @luffy0s | @fluffybunnyu | @laws-wife-things | @crmnic

[Ch. 1]

You spend the next week learning more about the Polar Tang and the Heart Pirates themselves, Law taking most of your time to help you get used to things. He's made sure you understand the basic rules of the ship, for his crew, including the boiler suits, and what do in case of certain emergencies. You’re going to be working on your poisons in his office, in case anything happens, he can help you fix it. You’re honestly grateful for the time everyone has taken to help you get your bearings straight and work out where things are. You’ll be sharing a room with Ikkaku, who is so glad to have another girl aboard for as long as you are. She’s already started sharing some gossip with you, pointing out those involved so you knew who was who on top of it all.

Penguin has been extremely kind and helpful, telling you that you’re welcome to join him for night watches once you tell him you spend a lot of time writing during your shifts on the Sunny.

Shachi and Uni both showed you around some of the major maintenance areas, both promising they’d help you learn the most basic things so you can be of help if needed.

You’re about to join Bepo for a quick navigation lesson before their captain calls you, wanting to discuss somethings with you before you got too far away.

Law, although he agreed to letting you stay with him and his crew, still isn’t entirely sure what to do with you. There’s still that strange feeling in his chest when you smile at him, as you thank him for all his help and allowing you to stay, once he brings you to his office again a few days later, and he waves you off.

“You don’t have to thank me constantly.”

“I know,” you smile again and he feels that feeling that’s been hanging around, but Law tries to ignore it, “I’m just…really grateful. I know my being here may be a burden—”

“Not a burden, you’re welcome here. Everyone’s glad you’re staying around for now.”

Hearing that makes you brighten up, as Law starts to question you more about what you do for the Straw Hats, and what you can bring to his crew in the meantime. You list off everything you’ve come to learn about being at sea from being a Straw Hat, Law making mental notes on other things to ask about later.

“Any other special talents we should know about?”

You start to think, pressing a finger to your chin while you do so. Another action Law has to tell himself isn’t cute, before you grin and lean in close to him, quietly speaking.

“I can see the dead.”

Complete silence as Law raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to grin, halfway expecting him to ask for proof. Ask you to tell him about a spirit that might be hanging around the Polar Tang, or around one his crewmembers, but he doesn’t ask anything, eventually returning to a straight face.

“No you can’t.”

“…okay fine, I can’t. It’d be cool though!”

He rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh in return. Law goes to let you out of his office which you oblige by, knowing he’s done talking with you now that you’ve made your joke. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder first, you giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll help you make antidotes for your poisons. But you won’t use my crew as test subjects.”

“Ha! That’s fine, I don’t test on people anyway, just in case. Just give me some fish and I can use those.”

Giving him another grin, you walk ahead saying Bepo was going to show you something next, but Law had rudely interrupted by wanting to know what you could bring to his crew for the next two years. You’ll promise later to make extra batches of antidote for him to keep in his medicine stockpile, while Law watches you hurry down the hall and sighs.

“That’s the wrong way.”

He’s quick to follow you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back the right way, deciding he’ll join you and Bepo for whatever it was you two were discussing next. He wants to ensure you’re being given correct information and know what to do in an emergency, especially so if you need medical attention.

Atta boy, Law.

If you really could see the dead, you’d have noticed the tall, blond man with makeup and a large, black feathered coat pushing Law towards you.

+!+

“We’re approaching a winter island, everyone needs to be ready to disembark for a bit and—”

“A winter island?!”

Your outburst causes Law to stop speaking with a nod at you, and you’re gone to the crew bunks in an instant, followed by Bepo who is just as excited. Law gives a look to Ikkaku and Uni, who you’d been talking to when he came in, and both simply shrug at him. They all briefly noticed a sparkle in your eyes as you ran off, likely to change clothes and get ready to disembark, but none of them knew your intent or real interest in the snow.

It's only when Law catches you by the exit door with Bepo, excitedly talking with the Polar bear mink about what you could do in the snow, all dressed up in your coat, thick pants, boots and gloves. You and Bepo trade ideas back and forth about what to build out of the snow, or if you can get a snowball fight started.

Law hasn’t seen someone so excited for snow in a long time, he thinks not since the last winter with Lami.

Penguin joins you and Bepo by the door next, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a smile.

“What’re you so excited about some snow for?”

“It practically never snows in my home town! I think it snowed maybe twice while Luffy and I lived there? Chopper is from a winter island, so when we were there, it was so exciting!”

“Haha, I’m from the North Blue, so snow is pretty normal up there. Well…the area me and Shachi are from anyway.”

“Ah,” you give a little sigh but smile yourself, “I’m so jealous. What about Trafalgar?”

“That’s…well, kind of different, but we did meet him where we used to live,” looking over his shoulder, Penguin sees Law but leans into whisper, “Probably better if you ask him another time. It’s…a lot…”

Before you have a chance to question it, Law comes up behind Penguin and tells him to go ahead with opening the door, the Polar Tang should be stable enough for you all to leave now. You put that question into the back of your mind for later, instead running out with Bepo as soon as the door opens. The excitement both of you have is almost contagious, as the rest of the Heart Pirates slowly join you outside. While some of them are tasked with scoping out the island, the rest end up with you and Bepo building snowmen for a while, though you and the mink end up making a snow polar bear the best you can even if it looks a little goofy in the end. Some pieces are a little larger than others but you still think it’s cute, even as your companion bows his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I made some things a little too big.”

“No, that’s okay, Bepo! It gives it charm, I think he’s cute!”

You reassure Bepo a few times with a smile, before the two of you go to work with others on more snow sculptures. It goes well until you get hit in the face with a snowball, thrown by Hakugan at Shachi who dodged just in time. While it makes you sneeze a bit as you brush the snow off your face, with Bepo and Ikkaku yelling at Hakugan while he shouts apologies and Shachi nearly cackles, it doesn’t upset you at all really. Yeah it kind of hurt to have a snowball hit you in the face, but hey, you mentioned a snowball fight earlier, right?

Crouching down to gather up some snow, you put on a wicked grin and fling the ball at Hakugan yourself, catching him in the back as he turns away while you laugh.

“How about a warning next time?!”

“Yeah, snowball fight!!”

Most everyone joins in, gathering up all the snowballs they could or just throwing loose snow at each other, Law watches from the side, a slight smile on his face. He’s glad everyone can take a bit to relax and enjoy themselves, he’s not sure he’s seen his crew this excited about snow in a long time, even Shachi who grew up in the North Blue. Some of you group up to get an advantage over others, Law turns to ignoring the snowball fight as Penguin and Uni come back with what they found on the island.

All is well until Law is hit in the back of the head with a snowball, keeping himself upright but turning quickly to search through everyone and find who did it as you all quiet down seeing his glare. Not a single person looks him in the eye, but they all point to you, while you cover your mouth with your hand and try to stifle your laughter.

“S-Sorry, Trafalgar,” a giggle escapes you as you glance over to him, “I… I was… hehe… aiming for Penguin… honest!”

“Oh yeah…?” Law’s voice is low, he crouches down to scoop up some snow, locking eyes with you as yours widen and you turn to run, but realize it’s futile when Law uses his Shambles to catch up and grab you, shoving the snow he’d gathered into your coat and making you screech before everyone returns to the snowball fight.

“That’s cruel!!”

“Everyone get Captain, he’s cheating!’

While the rest of the Heart Pirates aim for Law, you and their captain are honed in on each other, trading blows from snowballs for the longest time, your personal goal to knock his hat off as payback for shoving snow down your back. Luckily you’re not the one to hit him hard enough to knock the spotted hat off, but you’re close enough to grab before he does, sticking it on your own head and playing keep away once Law realizes where it’s at.

“Looks good on me, huh, Trafalgar?! I might keep it!”

“The hell you will, that’s mine!”

Once Law catches you, he doesn’t let go until he’s snatched his hat back off your head and returned it to its rightful place, keeping a grip on your arm as he notices the sky starting to get darker. The rest of the crew has settled down, stopping at first to watch you and Law until a new snowfall began.

You forget for a few minutes that Law has a hold of your arm, it’s not uncomfortable, but you feel your heart pick up a bit from it.

“It’s pretty….the snowfall.”

He nods, finally noticing he still has a hold of you and letting go, disappointment flooding you as Law calls for everyone to return to the ship. Tomorrow will be a day in town to restock, you’ll all take off again afterwards.

You volunteer at dinner to make everyone the lavender milk tea that Makino once taught you, most of the crew enjoying it, but you’re especially surprised by Law liking it, even telling you so.

It's the small smile he gives when you thank him that makes you realize you just might be starting to get a crush on him.

+!+

Law knows something is up when you don’t join the rest of the Heart Pirates for a meeting before being let off the ship. He still does his job as captain, giving out duties to everyone so they knew what to do and who would be stocking supplies, who would be checking for wanted posters, and anything he felt needed to be done this time. He’d planned for you to join him on a once around the island to look for anything of interest, but when you don’t show up, he knows something must be wrong.

“Ikkaku-ya,” Law stops your roommate before she gets too far, Ikkaku giving him her full attention, “Where’s [Y/N]-ya?”

“Oh, um…” Ikkaku shuffles from one foot to the next, not fully looking at her captain and that’s what worries him more, until she speaks again, “She isn’t feeling well…she’s not sick so she doesn’t need a check-up but, it might be best to leave her alone today, probably tomorrow too…”

That leads to Law believing your cycle had started, and he chooses not to question it further, lest he or Ikkaku feel embarrassed about the discussion. He decides to leave you be, you’ll probably join them tomorrow for island exploring, most likely with Penguin if he asks you especially. When you do show up for dinner that evening, you’re quieter than usual and Law notices how Penguin and Ikkaku are the ones to talk with you. He can’t hear anything they say, but seeing you at least smile and respond to them is enough for him to think that everything is fine, you’re just not feeling 100% and that makes sense. He’s heard you and Ikkaku complain about cramps and the like the last few months, he already knows the first day is hard for you, so he lets it go. At least you’re out and talking to everyone.

But he knows something is up the next time it happens, not even two weeks later, and it can’t be blamed on your period this time. You don’t show up to a crew meeting, you still aren’t one of his crewmates but you’ve been joining for anything interesting or important, and Law doesn’t let it show that he's a little more worried, so he stops Penguin this time and asks him the same thing, where are you and why didn’t you show up?

Penguin doesn’t fully look at Law, scratching the back of his head as he tries to find the words.

“She…just isn’t up for it today, Cap. Maybe we should let her have the day off…”

Although Law tells Penguin that’s fine, he does go off to find you, the door to your and Ikkaku’s room barely open, but he knocks to make sure you’re not indecent or anything. There’s no answer so he opens the door, not seeing you anywhere, the new assumption being that you’re in the bathroom. He turns his attention there, again knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]-ya, Penguin-ya said you weren’t felling well, are you all right?”

No response, Law furrows his brow and knocks again, saying your name a little louder this time. He swears he hears a small whimper and a sob, and that’s what makes him finally open the bathroom door, simply saying he’s coming in before doing so, but he nearly freezes when he sees you.

Nearly curled up into a ball in the corner, head buried in your arms wrapped around your knees with numerous used tissues and he just knows that if you looked up at him, he’d feel that strange feeling in his chest again, or one of heartbreak, he isn’t entirely sure which one.

Law is not trying to scare you, but when he touches your hand and says your name a third time, it makes you jump and look up at him with wide, tear filled eyes, you feel beyond embarrassed that he’s caught you like this, but it quickly turns to more tears and a bit of anger.

“Are you—”

“Get out! Go away!!” Law barely dodges the box of tissues when you throw it at him, he’s not able to dodge the mascara you toss at his head as you keep yelling at him to leave. He doesn’t really move to leave until you stand up much too quickly and start pushing him out, he’s just surprised at your reaction to him finding you crying. “Leave me alone!!”

Once he’s out the door you almost slam it shut in his face and lock it, Law doesn’t know what to make of this really.

He can handle physical ailments, mental is a little harder for him but he’s working on it for his crew, yet emotional problems are not in his wheel house at all. He doesn’t really know why you’re locked in the bathroom, hiding in a corner crying, but that look on your face gave him an idea. He recognizes it from his own past, after his family and Flevance, then again after Corazon.

It was pure grief that was written on your face, definitely from your still fresh loss of Ace, and Law isn’t sure how to help you.

He doesn’t know if he should help you, you just might turn all your grief inward and ignore any hands held out for help, even from your new friends let alone him.

“Captain? Why are you…oh.”

Ikkaku finds Law still in your room several minutes later, staring at your bathroom door, until he hears her and looks at her, an expression she can’t read on his face.

“How long?”

“A few weeks now,” she sits on the edge of her bed, not looking at Law now, “It happens randomly it seems like, or something reminds her of Ace and sets her off. His birthday is soon, so that might be it right now. Penguin and I promised we wouldn’t let anyone know, so she could grieve alone.”

“Why was it being kept a secret?”

She shrugs a bit, Law isn’t sure he’s going to get many more answers today, but then Ikkaku speaks up again.

“She doesn’t want to burden anyone with her feelings, I guess. She should be fine by dinner, Captain, she just… needs some time.”

While she is correct, and you show up again at dinner looking normal but still with a sadness on your face that he can see, Law wonders if there’s something he can do to help you. Your need to grieve and have that time alone isn’t a bad thing, he won’t deny you that when you need it, but he wants to do something for you, he still doesn’t know you well enough to know that exactly you need, but anything is better than letting you be alone.

He knows all too well how that feels.

When it happens a third time, several weeks later, you don’t show up once again, Law doesn’t even need to look at Penguin or Ikkaku, they won’t meet his eyes anyway. After he lets everyone else go, his next mission is to find you, even though he knows exactly where you are. Law isn’t sure if his plan is going to work, but he wants you to stop hiding away from everyone when you break down. It’s not because he’s angry about it, he just doesn’t want you to continue suffering alone. It’s not good for anyone to do that.

He doesn’t even knock when he gets to your room, but does so when he sees your bathroom door is closed like the last time.

“[Y/N]-ya, I’m coming in.”

“No,” you force back a sob, making sure the door is locked, “Go away!”

“I won’t.”

You haven’t experienced all the abilities Law has at his disposal, but you aren’t that surprised when you see a blue hue, and he’s in the bathroom with you not even a moment later. He’s not phased by you attempting to throw things at him again, even while you yell at him to leave you alone, you don’t need help, you don’t need anyone right now.

You’ve handled things like this by yourself your whole life, why would need help now?

“I don’t need help!”

“I’m not trying to help.”

“Then lea—”

Law doesn’t give you much more room to talk, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug, pressing your face into his chest which causes your eyes to widen a bit and tears to flow even more.

“I’m not trying to help,” Law holds you tightly, feeling a just a bit of relief as you slowly wrap your arms around him in return while you return to crying, “but you don’t have to be alone, all right?”

“T-Trafalgar…I…I just—”

“I know, I get it. But,” he knows it’s probably going to sound hypocritical based on his own issues, but Law still feels the need to say it again, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

Law isn’t entirely sure why he’s chosen to let you cry into him, let you grip onto his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth while you continue to cry and say how it isn’t fair that Ace died, that you lost another brother (he’s going to have to ask about that later, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned it). Maybe it’s because he didn’t have anyone back then, when he lost his own loved ones. It might be that, because he saw a reflection of himself in you the first time he found you hiding away and struggling to handle your grief. While you drag the two of you to the floor, Law simply adjusts to as comfortable a position he can, he’s at least sure you’ll both be there a while. You don’t show any signs of calming any time soon.

Law doesn’t know why he came after you, but once your cries fade to nothing, not even whimpers, he’s relieved to hear you speaking to him without being upset or between sobs of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry…for crying all over your shirt again…”

“Don’t be. It’ll wash.”

Law strokes your hair a bit while you finally smile, nodding, before he helps you up off the floor. While you wash your face, Law directs you to not worry about helping anyone out with chores or sharing shifts today, he’s already split everything up among his crew, you’re under strict orders from the doctor to rest and recover from your breakdown. He does offer to bring you something to eat and drink, which you take him up on, stopping him before he fully leaves your room.

“Thank you…Law, I appreciate this…”

He’s completely aware that’s the first time you’ve used his first name, and he notices a different feeling in his chest. It’s not the same, almost heart squeeze he’s felt before, but something more comforting. Warm almost, and he’s starting to get it more.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]-ya.”

Ah, that’s what it is…

Law realizes he’s starting to have feelings for you, though he decides to push them down for now.

He’s not going to use your weakened emotional state to push himself further into your life, not when he doesn’t even know if he’s okay with these feelings or not. For now, he’s going to do what he said and bring you some lunch, he’ll deal with these feelings later.

It is nice to hear you call him by his given name though.

+!+

“You’re as reckless as your brother.”

You giggle a bit while Law continues to wrap bandages around your arm, shooting you a small glare while you laugh. He’s not amused, mostly because it was him you’d tried to protect and ended up getting hurt over. You shoved him out of the way of an enemy attack, receiving a deep slice across your own arm instead. Once he realized what happened, Law was furious with you, even though he knows you aren’t part of his crew, it didn’t change the fact he was trying to protect you for Luffy while your crew was apart. You were lucky, he’d told you after he forced you to the infirmary, that your attacker’s weapon didn’t have any poison on it. You’d probably be dead before he even got you there if it had been.

You just grinned and said it was the opposite, your attacker was lucky your knife didn’t have poison on it, or he’d be in worse shape than he already was from your perfect aim hitting him between the shoulders. It doesn’t cause Law any relief to hear that, he still glares and it makes you start to shrink away, averting your gaze elsewhere.

You two still don’t know each other very well, it’s only been a few months since Luffy tossed you to him as the Heart Pirates left Amazon Lily. Still, you’ve found Law is fiercely protective of his crew, his family, just as you are with the Straw Hats, and while you’re with them, you count as one of his crewmembers.

The feelings you’ve started to develop for him don’t help much, Ikkaku being the only one who knows since you’ve told her how distraught you feel over it.

How could you start falling for a rival pirate captain? It’s only a crush but it makes you feel like you’re betraying your crew sometimes.

“Law, I’m fi—”

“And what if you weren’t?” He’s nearly grinding his teeth and ties off your bandage a little tighter than he intended, making you take a sharp breath. “What would you want me to tell your brother?”

You shrug, starting to play with the end of the bandages to distract yourself from him. “Could just tell him I protected you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you jump when Law slams down the scissors on the metal plate, keeping his back to you so you don’t see how upset he really is, “My crew knows I don’t need it. They know to run if a battle might cost them their lives. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do this for my crewmates, too. I’ve even pushed Zoro and Sanji out of the way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but—”

“Sorry wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.”

You both become silent, you taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before nodding and biting your lip.

“You’re right…that’s why Ace isn’t back.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Thanks for bandaging me up, Trafalgar,” Law turns around just as you jump off the table, going to leave, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Law watches you leave, letting out a frustrated sigh once you’re gone. He really hadn’t meant to upset you, it just came out, but it was also the truth. What good was ‘sorry’ if you had died and he had to tell Luffy that he'd lost another sibling, this time a blood related one? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, not when you and Luffy were still getting over Ace’s death.

He gets it, he really does, that pain doesn’t go away quickly, no matter how many false smiles you give to him or the others, or how often you laugh with them. No matter how many times he finds you crying the bathroom over you grief. It hasn’t been that long, he doesn’t expect you to be whatever is normal for you so soon. He probably shouldn’t be berating you, you’re not part of his crew so he doesn’t have the right, Law isn’t your captain.

But, you’re under his care for two years, you’re a temporary member of his crew, so you should listen to him. You’re proving to be as stubborn as Luffy is, but also just as protective as Law is.

And your progress with him, ugh. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to call him by his first name, and now you’re back to calling him Trafalgar instead. Seven months of progress down the drain all because he was concerned, worried about you being reckless.

…why am I so worried though?

He could easily chalk it up to the fact you’re Luffy’s sister and he’s trying to protect you until you’re back with your crew, or he could even say its because of the feelings he’s developed for you, but Law doesn’t want to get into that right now.

Neither of you speak until dinner, when you run into each other right outside the kitchen and start a back and forth about who should go in first.

“You’re the captain, sir.”

“Ladies first, miss.”

You don’t like being formal, or hearing him call you ‘miss’, but you don’t want to fight about it. Not when his crew can hear and might be concerned about it.

“Crew shouldn’t eat without their captain there.”

“We don’t have that rule around here.”

Eventually you relent and go first, getting your food and taking the first free seat by Ikkaku, Law sitting beside you a moment later. You don’t talk to each other the whole time, you focus on your conversation with Ikkaku while Law responds to anyone speaking to him. You barely even notice when Law takes the roll he really didn’t want to have on his plate, and moves it to yours, almost like a peace offering that you two are okay, he’s not mad at you for trying to protect him anymore. You do give him a smile when you notice, which he returns with a nod before leaving for his room.

You sigh a bit, looking back to your plate and keeping your smile to yourself.

Things will be okay.

+!+

Over the last nearly ten months, Law has learned a few of your quirks. When you work on your poisons, you mark things three times over to ensure you have the correct amounts listed, you almost always strike up conversation with him about anything that comes to mind, even if Law doesn’t answer you.

Sometimes he’s caught you biting your pencil or pen while making notes, it’s one of your cuter quirks.

On nights you can’t sleep, like tonight, he can easily find you in the kitchen, brewing up some tea to help you fall asleep, and that’s where Law decides he has to talk to you. You’ve both moved past your argument from a few months ago, it’s like it never happened now, but he feels the need to speak with you about something important.

No, not his feelings, he’s going to ignore those as long as possible. He recognized them after you’d had an emotional breakdown, he’s not going to admit that especially, he doesn’t want you to think he has a kink for crying or something, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Law,” you look over your shoulder for a second with a smile, turning back to your tea, “Couldn’t sleep, though some tea might help.”

“Your usual then?”

Nodding, as you finish off your tea making, Law sits at the table and waits for you to join him, knowing you’ve made him a cup of lavender milk tea too. You’d started doing that and either taking it to his office before you head to bed or having him join you in the kitchen where you have small conversations before you both turn in for the night.

You’ve gotten quite comfortable with Law, your own feelings for him aside. He’s been helpful with your poison and antidote creations, ensuring your ratios are correct and helping you when they aren’t. You’ve started discussing books you’ve both read, you were shocked to find he enjoyed the Sora Warrior of the Sea comics. His being such a nerd over them never struck you as odd thankfully, Law even letting you borrow a few of his copies so you can give it a try yourself.

He makes you feel safe and comfortable, you really enjoy being with Law.

Law thanks you when you hand over the mug of tea, taking your seat across from him to enjoy your own, settling into a welcomed silence. With how rowdy his crew can be at times, you get why Law hides himself away in his office most of the time, and you’re grateful that he lets you share the space when needed.

“I know you said I didn’t have to,” Law looks over to you as you speak, an eyebrow raised, “but thank you again, for letting me stay. I really appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

“Like I’ve said, its no problem. Everyone’s glad you’re here.”

I’m more than glad you’re here.

There’s a soft smile on your face that Law enjoys seeing, and he honestly hopes you won’t lose it after he talks to you.

“I wanted…to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” setting your mug down on the table, you rest your elbows there with your chin in your hands, “I’m all ears, Law.”

He's almost fighting himself on if he should or shouldn’t, maybe another time. It’s late after all, you probably want to go to bed now that you’ve had your tea. It’s making him sleepy too, but the anxiety he feels is almost nullifying the tea’s effects.

Taking a deep breath, Law finally speaks up again, not meeting your eye.

“I want to tell you about my past,” that makes you perk up, remembering what Penguin had said to you months ago, “But I don’t think I can tonight. It’s…”

“A lot…?”

He nods, which you return, realizing this must be more than what Penguin could’ve meant, it has to be hard for Law to dredge up whatever memories he has of his childhood and teenage years, of everything that led him to where he is now.

Everything that’s leading him down the path he’s chosen.

“So,” when he finally looks up at you, you’re not surprised at how tired Law looks, it has to be taking a lot for him to do this, “I want to set a time in a few days, where you and I can sit, and I can tell you everything. “

You need to know before I could ever tell you my feelings anyway.

“Law,” Nodding, you quietly reach out your hand to his, not wanting to scare him off, “Just tell me whenever, and I’ll make myself available to listen, okay?”

After he agrees, Law offers to walk you back to your shared room with Ikkaku, which you take him up on even though you know the way. The Polar Tang is only so big, but it’s nice to have him by your side. Once you reach your door, Law turns to leave and you stop him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and leaning up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening just a hair.

“Thanks for walking me…and trusting me, Law. See you in the morning.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything in response before you enter your room and close the door, sighing heavily as you bring yourself to the floor, Ikkaku watching you from her bed.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for the captain, huh?”

“…it’s that obvious?”

“As obvious as the fact he’s the same for you, girlfriend.”

While you don’t believe Ikkaku is correct in that statement, Law isn’t able to bring himself to move for several minutes, frozen in shock that you decided to kiss his cheek and just run off to bed.

It looks like you’ve got more to talk about than just his past now.

[theveryworstthing]

I'm Alive

I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.

I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through. 

Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol. 

I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain. 

Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am. 

I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner.  Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess. 

But anyway.

I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.

Thank you for your patience.

[erebus0dora]

ok so i promised you a rant on Eric Bogosian, and i pinky promise i'll try to keep the story short (those beautiful people i've already privately spewed my fascination at deserve peace and love 💜)

TL;DR: Eric Bogosian is a good researcher and judge of human nature, which honestly shouldn't be surprising given his experience, links below

it is easy to google Eric (i'll call him that not out of disrespect, it's just shorter) and get to a conclusion he's just a slightly awkward old man who had extremely weird youth and gives off a powerful bi vibe just for shits and giggles; which is fair, given the wild way he handles most interviews

but hear me out, i'm not an expert, i'm just a book kind of girl. so i sought out the books, and into the books i looked.

back in 1988 he was nominated for Pulitzer's for his "Talk Radio", and i count that as one of the first cases of him using a real story to weave a (semi)fictional one. it is a powerful play, and a gut-punching movie, but I am mentioning it not because of its ehhh artistic value. in my book, it's a proof of the way he tends to critically re-imagine the things he sees and analyses.

keep that in mind when you google his "Operation 'Nemesis".

he initially started looking into the history of Armenian genocide as into the material worth developing into a plot for a movie. but, in his own words, and i quote, "I wrote this book because I had no choice. The Nemesis story required more attention than a simple screenplay."

he is still not a scientist, mind that - and his book reads as a work of fiction. say, there's no way one can look into the head of a deceased person and know their feelings, but one can guess; and Eric guesses, of course. but the fun part is that he makes educated guesses. nearly for each presumption there's a source. a footnote. a quote.

what really strikes me is that he looked into ONE plot line and fished out a complex slice of history, dripping with CONTEXT. White Russian emigration? it's in there. early stages of oil industry? check. the colourful background of Europe in early XX century? all there.

there's no wonder he spent seven years on this book.

i repeat: SEVEN. YEARS.

call me sapiosexual, but that was the moment when i stopped and thought: ok, THIS IS HOT.

what also impresses me is the way he speaks of his past. he admits he's done wild shit, and adds that the best part was the moment he understood he didn't need to be high to be creative. it's the underlying power of "yeah, been there, got better, SO CAN YOU" that gets me.

to keep things short, i'm adding links:

here's a vid where he speaks of the book on Armenian genocide (i had personal reasons to tear up a bit while listening, ngl)

and here's a vid where he speaks of acting, writing, and improv, that basically broke my art block, for which i am going to be grateful for fucking ever, i guess

(if you got to this point of my rant, you deserve a hug and a respectful kiss on the mouth if you're ok with that. go have a lovely day 💜)

[matchingbatbites]

settle down (it'll all be clear)

T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie

Read on A03

Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”

“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”

The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”

Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall. 

Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.

But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.

Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry. 

The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown. 

Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”

The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.

A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt. 

“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”

The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.

It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”

“Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”

The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”

Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”

“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.

“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”

Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.

“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest. 

They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.

Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack. 

He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.

Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself. 

Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.

Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.

Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work. 

At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.

He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.

He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery. 

It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.

When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.

“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.

“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.

Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. 

It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.

Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”

Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”

“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

Eddie wants to go out.

With him.

Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”

He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”

Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”

“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”

“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”

(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)

[shuttershocky]

Hooray for piracy!

The only way gaming in the third world can be remotely accessible.

You know they used to sell modded games as well here along with the pirated copies of real games?

Back in the days of the gameboy color, I had this gameboy game called Harry Boy - Sail Like a Bomb. It was a strange terf wizard bootleg where the game inside wasn't actually based on any HP title on gameboy, but was instead a strange Mario-like platformer where Mario got replaced by a custom sprite of Harry. Boy. With Bomb powers.

I can't remember anything else about it but I didn't even think about how weird that was until years and years later.

I also bought this heavily modded version of Red Alert 2 called Red Alert: Rizfire. It had extremely strange units, like suicide bomber dogs that had nukes attached to them (thus allowing a tiny squad of dogs to decimate armies AND irradiate the ground making it unpassable) or an upgraded Crazy Ivan (i forgot what they named him) who could throw dynamite rather than just plant them on things.

It's kind of wild to look back and think about how those days were also the years right after 9/11. Islamophobia was at an extreme high, but the best stalls in Manila with pirated games, jailbreak services, or even full console (and cellphone, you had to be diverse) repairs were often run by women in hijabs. Not only did they have to deal with hiding and moving stalls constantly to avoid getting caught by police raids, but they had to deal with cops randomly coming in to harass them because they were Muslim and not because of all the illegal bootlegs they had all over their shops.

Anyway I'm grateful to them. Video games would have been completely unaffordable without their bootlegs, plus the secondhand PS2 I bought from one of these stalls had the stall-owner open it up, take it apart, put it back together, then told me it would last a good 10 years after she was done fixing it. It lived for 12 before I sold it off and it was still working then. Incredible work.

[emmyrosee]

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

-

But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

[kyouka-supremacy]

I was asked why I like Beast and why I prefer it over the main universe, so obviously I ended up with a 2k+ words essay on why Beast is great. Now I feel like it diverges too much from what the original ask was actually asking for, so I'm leaving it to its own post. Enjoy.

Why do you like Beast? So, first of all you MUST know that this is a question that could keep me talking for days to no end. I'm not kidding. Here there will be some disorganized rambles but trust me, if I had time to actually do so I'd keep going on forever.

Alternative universes are cool I love Beast. I think it starts off at a point when the bsd author was more experienced from having already worked with the main series for many years, and ultimately ended up making an alternative version of the work that is more mature and refined, while still maintaining bsd's core themes (and conservative worldviews at that lmao). Starting off, the “what if” concept is endlessly fascinating, pretty much the entire fandom culture is based on it. It IS unfailingly cool to see what could have happened if Akutagawa sided with the ada and Atsushi with the pm, it is extremely interesting to see what changes out of their personalities and on the other hand what stays the same, what is intrinsically them. About sskk, I find it really compelling how Beast tackles intimate aspects of their lives, pasts and traumas. The café scene is genuinely brilliant in the way it shows, completely unexpectedly and to the reader's full disbelief, them getting along in normal circumstances. Who could have predicted that! Of all things, Akutagawa and Atsushi getting along. But it happened, and nothing before had ever shown to that extent how similar they are, how much on the same page they are, how much they're meant to be– like yeah obviously I mean romantically, but even if you're not particularly into that, it displayed just how deeply connected they are. I'm forever grateful for that scene.

Beast Akutagawa is great But I think… More in general, I just really like Beast Akutagawa and Beast Atsushi, even better than their canon counterparts 😅 Again I do think at the point when they wrote Beast the author had already gathered a lot of experience from serializing bsd for at least five years, and ended up making characters that are more solid and compelling (although please don't get me wrong, I LOVE canon sskk and I believe canon Akutagawa's character arc in particular is amazing. It's just that at least to me Beast sskk is everything I could ever ask for.). I love Beast Akutagawa! It was so so capturing to see him grow outside of the pm. And especially it was infinitely interesting to see Akutagawa grow outside of Dazai. And don't get me wrong, I love the influence Dazai has on canon Akutagawa, I wouldn't have it any other way: it made Akutagawa who he is, and I love reading about his character. But I also found it wonderful and pleasantly refreshing to see how he would be if he had never undergone Dazai's training; I like this Akutagawa who's possibly even more immature and impulsive, wild and untamed than his canon counterpart. Beast is also the universe where Akutagawa gets his chance at being a good person - which is something he desperately strived for but never got to have in the main universe -, and in the end I am a little attached to Akutagawa, so I'm happy for him! His relationship with Oda and the whole ada are wonderful, I like getting to experience a universe where Akutagawa is loved and supported, unapologetically, for who he is.

Beast Atsushi is great Beast Atsushi is AMAZING. Like. Character molded appositely to my liking ahah. He's so cool! He's so tormented! He's sweet and cruel and utterly unstable! I love him so much. He truly is Atsushi at his full potential. I love this Atsushi who's biggest fear isn't the world, but rather himself. He's beautiful and horrible and deathly and kind. He killed his abuser to stop him from haunting his nightmares, but ended up turning those nightmares into his life. He takes his coffee with three sugars. He loves his little sister and would risk the safety of his organization and the boss he's endlessly loyal to for her. The only person who ever understood him is his most loathed enemy. He's one with death and indistinguishable from darkness. His laughter stops rain. He lives in perpetual physical pain due to a choker constantly piercing around his neck and yet even that is nothing compared to the damage of his psyche. He's so, so fucked up. He deserves the world. I LOVE HIM.

Beast Dazai is great Also, I really like Beast Dazai!!! He's always Dazai, but I think his character works out a lot better in Beast for the role he covers. In canon Dazai is this omniscient, all knowing figure, but he's also a protagonist, and him being so perfectly flawless doesn't go well in the long run. You've seen it in the last season 5 episode, it just gets boring after a while– it would be nice to see him face actual challenges and high stakes for once, but he's so overpowered, that never happens. In Beast, it's pretty much the same deal (author really loves Dazai lmao), but the fact that he isn't the protagonist and instead the main villain? I feel like from a storytelling standpoint, it works so much better!! I mean, his being omniscient works a lot better– he's not the one who the reader expects facing challenges and high stakes, the protagonist is. In addition, in Beast Dazai has almost universal knowledge due to his link to the Book, so that makes his being omniscient and even god-like a lot more feasible and easy to contemplate! I think that plot-wise it just works a lot better, there's an actual reason he's so overpowered, and that reason is explained, it's in the text. Oh and I LOVE his utter devotion to Oda. I know it's the same in canon, but still… There in Beast you can see it concretely, you can see it everywhere. That very universe exists how it is because of Dazai's love for Oda, because there's nothing he wouldn't do for him, because in the whole universe, in the whole multiverse, Oda's happiness is the only thing that matters to him. I think such strong feelings of love being put so explicitly is something simply wonderful to read, and makes Dazai infinitely more sympathetic than what he may be in canon. “But I do have one regret, Odasaku— I won't be able to read the novel you'll complete one day.” LIKE YEAH, SURE, ALRIGHT, JUST SHOOT ME TO THE HEAD ALREADY. That line alone is worth the whole novel, honestly. Oh and the thing about Oda harshly repudiating Dazai, the man who literally did everything for him, who dedicated his whole life for him… Man!!! That REALLY made me sympathize with Dazai in a way canon will never be able to. All those factors only contribute making Dazai's suicide in the end all the more emotional– which I believe works really well in the story, he is an enemy and he is a god and he had to die, but still makes for an extremely emotionally charged scene and a wonderful story climax. Imo Beast Dazai had to die so that canon Dazai could live (and, hopefully, find a reason to live!), and it's as bitter as it is beautiful.

The Beast ada dynamics are great And I love the ada in Beast!!! They feel infinitely more of a family than they do in canon. Kenji, Kunikida, Tanizaki, they all seem to love Akutagawa in a way that's hard to be found towards Atsushi in canon? The way they didn't falter to rescue Akutagawa even as he went, against all their advices and pleas, to a suicidal rampage was wonderful and heartwarming. They make it sound unbelievable that when Atsushi was (mind you, unwillingly) kidnapped their first response would be that it was an hassle and that he should have dealt with it on his own (this time I truly believe it was the author learning from their own mistakes, because seriously, who does that. It makes everyone instantly feel a thousand times less sympathetic). As people have said, the ada alone makes Beast feel like the “right” universe on the basis that in it they actually care about their members. All things considered, the ada treats Akutagawa as this kind of rabid murderous gremlin they just adopted who's going to bite everyone but that they still love no matter what, and it's super cute. Beast ada really is the bsd found family if there ever was one.

A cool plot The Beast storyline is just very compelling in general? The introduction chapter is amazing, I mean, The Heartless Cur is amazing. Again, Beast Akutagawa is such a great character, and the description of his struggle to find his own humanity, although in my opinion does fall weak in some points and has flaws, still treats a concept that's very interesting to ponder over nonetheless. I like how there's a series of more light-hearted chapters in the first half, it helps solidify the characters, and those chapters are really nice to read; not to mention having lighter chapters alternated with the strikingly more gloomy and violent pm Atsushi scenes makes the latter feel all the more frightening and disturbing, it's a great narrative choice. And the big crescendo of Akutagawa storming in the pm headquarters! His fight of physics and morals against Atsushi! Them telling each other they're nothing like the other when the reader knows the exact opposite is true! It's all very good, and again, Dazai's suicide makes for a perfect climax to the story.

Sometimes being a seinen can be good I like how Beast is a seinen way more than the main story is? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with shounen manga - which bsd seems to lean towards more often than not, with only occasionally tackling more adult concepts -, but at this specific time in my life those darker themes are just something I find more entertaining to read about. I feel like the gritty and often gruesome depictions, although maybe a little overused in the manga, really help emphasize the dark atmosphere of the manga and overall effectively convey the whole “beast” imaginary as wild / violent / unpleasant / animalistic.

It's got sskk in it And in general it's just… Compared to canon, Beast is very very sskk centered. It's significantly shorter than the canon manga, and in a way that helped focus on sskk specifically, because it only had space to narrate one story, which is sskk's. And I don't know what to tell you, I'm here for the sskk. Of course I like Beast best.

Beast Atsushi is great (cont.) Back to Beast Atsushi because he's everything, really. I love how when I went into Beast I was like “I mean, whatever Dazai is making of Atsushi under the pm, if can't possibly be any worse than the constant abuse Akutagawa had to experience 😊” AND I WAS PROVED WRONG. I mean, I think the fact alone that the author could come up with something worse is remarkable. Dazai's emotional manipulation and psychological torment is, I believe, the darkest facet of Dazai we ever witnessed, and it's extremely well executed. Beast Atsushi is so so unstable, so on the brim of mental breakdown and psychosis at every second. Him being made unable to let go of the past makes him live in a perpetual nightmare. And I feel like the way his character story is unwrapped is truly masterful, storytelling wise!!!! On the reader's first encounter with him, it's evident how deeply scarred and disturbed he is, but the reader can't tell why. That adds to the mystery and feeling of unsettling surrounding the character: his story is wrapped up by darkness and it's impossible to predict, just like he is– and it's deliciously unsettling, scary, to be unable to tell anything about what made him like he is except from guessing that it must have been something really bad. And yet even then /nothing/ could have prepared the reader to what his backstory really is? And when the traumatic event is finally unveiled, it's worse then any guess the reader could have made. Atsushi's back to the orphanage flashback passage is terrifying! He didn't undergo any harm, like it would have been easy to guess; on the contrary, his torment stems from having killed his abuser. But he did so at a point when he didn't represent a threat for him anymore, when he was proud of him, when he got close to resemble a father to his eyes; and all of this he realized too late; and now he lives in constant regret, constant terror of himself. It's great, really! And even then, Atsushi carries on with being. super cool lmao. Like yeah he's unstable and everything, he's wild and violent, but he's also still very kind. He's timid and blushes easily. He also feels a lot more mature than he does in canon, and it's nice to see. He's more confident and serious, and that's nice too. He REALLY is my favorite character.

Some pretty cool scenes are in it Moving on, Beast has some truly amazing scenes. The Heartless Cur is amazing and builds up such an awesome character, Atsushi's introduction is petrifying, the Kenji / Akutagawa conversation is as deeply moving as it is cathartic. I won't be talking about the sskk café scene. Akutagawa's whole assault to the pm headquarters is rich of emotional scenes. I already talked about Atsushi's flashback and Dazai's suicide being wonderful passages both from technical and emotional standpoints. And the manga ending is just so good!!!!!!! Like it truly is the perfect ending– the way it ties up with the main story! How it feels like ada Akutagawa's story has just begun, a conclusion but also hope for what's to come. The “out behind our company's building there are some people of low character hanging about”– I can't stress enough how emotional this line, a final and definite tie to the main story, makes me, how meaningful it is in its quality of being both an ending, and a beginning. The last page showing Akutagawa at the center of the ada, it just moves me so deeply to see him being the protagonist, surrounded by a crowd of people who love and support him, getting his own chance at a life in the light 😭😭😭 “I'm going to live as an agency member. I'll solve cases, rescue the weak, and prove that I'm not evil.” Crying my eyes out 😭😭😭😭😭😭 And don't get me started on when Akutagawa and Atsushi's voices mix up to speak as one; I could never hope to be able to express what that makes me feel.

Siblings dynamics are my jam I also love Beast because one of the main aspects that drives the plot is Ryuunosuke and Gin's relationship, and I /love/ siblings relationships, and I //love// Ryuunosuke and Gin's relationship. I don't think Gin's character was written well at all (because the author literally can't write female characters for the life of theirs), but eh, at least it reinforced the concept that Ryuunosuke loves Gin terribly and would be able to do anything for her. Atsushi and Kyouka's relationship, too, is to die for.

The designs and manga art style slay Besides, the character designs are beautiful???? Akutagawa's Beast outfit is my second favorite out of the whole franchise, it's just such a look™. I love in general how rabid and messy Akutagawa looks in Beast, he feels so much more free? And like, good for him. In my head Beast Atsushi is the most handsome man in the entire franchise and I don't think I can take criticism on this. I find cutting off his longer bang such a witty way to represent not only how this Atsushi is different from the one we know (after all, that's the most remarkable and eye-catching feature of his appearance!), but also to symbolize how the cut with his past at the orphanage was harsh and violent. Characters designs aside, Hoshikawa's art style is GORGEUS. It's hard and rough and messy, it's dark and unpolished and violent and beautiful and exactly everything Beast is. It's PERFECT for the story, it's like it was made to portray it.

Sskk is always great And that's just talking about the canon content but like. Beast means a Beast sskk. Which is basically new and improved sskk. And I like sskk. And I like every version of sskk but especially this version where they're even more violent and fucked up and madly in love with each other and evidently meant to be. So yeah.

And this is like, just the very tip of the iceberg of what I love about Beast. Humbling offering you this Beast love letter in hope we can all give this novel the appreciation it deserves (๑˃‌ᴗ˂‌)۶

[sarahreesbrennan]

sorry if you have already answered this, but are we getting any queer rep in Long Live Evil? 💕 i am super excited to see what you've cooked up for us either way!

I came back after I'd gone off on one, seeing the post had struck a chord and being thankful but fearful of my inbox. Let me say with delighted surprise that all the asks are very kind.

Thank you for this one, sweet anon. I am so excited and so nervous about my best beloved, Long Live Evil, and about coming back with a new book of my own after so long, when I believed for a long time it was hopeless.

I'm really grateful to find readers waiting for me. But I know readers are naturally more invested in characters they know: I extremely appreciate you taking an interest in the future.

So, short answer: YEAH you are!

Long answer: Long Live Evil wouldn't exist without its queer narratives.

C.S. Pacat and I were talking in our virtual Brookline Booksmith event recently about our favourite Disney villains. C.S. Pacat picked Maleficent, a fine choice. I picked Snow White's Evil Queen. We agreed we loved most of them.

Here's the relevant excerpt I was quoting in my last post from Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House, saying 'I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them.' Well... me too.

I think many of us have experienced feeling made wrong in some way - for not wanting what society said we should or being what we were expected to be - and that one step along that journey of discovery is going 'Okay, if it's wicked, I'll just BE wicked.' And that's part of why those characters appeal - because they seem free, and free of pain.

But modern storytelling isn't confined to coding, and audiences can now feel free to expect, not the certainty, but the possibility characters who aren't introduced as such still might actually turn out to be LGBT+. The essays I've read about Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Ted Lasso, Fox 9-1-1... I think the latest argued Jaime Lannister was bisexual. (Pretty persuasive.)

I remember reading the Raven Cycle going 'oh? OH.' I remember being at a writing retreat in 2013 and running through the halls screaming about Nico diAngelo. Ten years later we got a Nico diAngelo book co-written by Rick Riordan and the amazing Mark Oshiro. I watched Red, White and Royal Blue with a friend and she said 'honestly I hope the guys get together, but...' and I (having read the book) silenced myself with a herculean effort and watched her hopes come true. I didn't know about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and almost dropped the book in a swimming pool. But I've also read and watched many things thinking, just maybe... oh, no. Still that hope existing is meaningful, the thought that if the story had gone differently, if this revelation had happened, if this realisation had happened, if, if, if...

Long Live Evil is a story about the story going differently and asking yourself questions about your own nature, and the escape to fiction of those who really need escape. The book is based on that 'if,' and the 'if' itself is joyous, and brings me back to the idea of gleefully transgressing the narrative that much villain love is based on.

It's also an ensemble story with a rogue's gallery of characters and multiple PoVs. (I was much inspired by the Six of Crows ensemble.) So it isn't about any one character's romance, and by the book's nature there exist many possibilities. A critique partner read and said 'I didn't know you were going THERE' and I responded 'Should I?'

I've never been one to confirm where stories are going, and I won't do so now. I'm not talking about any one character or telling you a direction.

I'm just saying yes to rep. It's baked in.

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (4/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 4: No brakes, just love!

Austria

When you arrive at the pitlane in Spielberg, you notice a couple of heads turning towards you on your way to the W garage after your long absence.

Toto's eyes look intensely at you as you cross past the Mercedes' garage. Yes, he looks mad. Oh boy, that's one conversation you want to avoid having so bad.

—Did all go well? —Michael asks you as he greets you with a hug once you get in there; he is standing next to Millie's car, and his wording takes you slightly by surprise; you look at him, somewhat alarmed, as a different idea crosses your mind. —Your business trips, I mean —he clarifies as he notices your confused face.

—Oh, that, yes, the business trips, yeah, all good. Thank you! —you change topics as fast as possible, not wishing to lie to Michael. —Have I missed much?

—Well, it got interesting to say so.

—What?

He turns you around and nods towards a hurt-looking Charles Leclerc supervising his Ferrari car, crunched and pointing something while talking to a mechanic.

Charles has his hands covered in bandages, and his face is all bruised. What on earth! You lock eyes with him, and he looks surprised to see you there, then frowns at you slightly. You point your index finger to the left, and he gets your "See you in that narrow corridor where no one will see us."

—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!? —You rush to take a good look at him when he catches your step, honestly concerned.

—That's what I asked myself! By "See you soon," you meant in four weeks! Good thing you didn't say, "See you in a while"!

—I'm sorry.

—Yeah, you better be! I texted you god knows how many times!

—I know, I'm sorry.

—Yeah, I'm really pissed at you, Y/N!

You look down at the floor, fucking sad. Charles notices it.

—But I'm even more glad and grateful to have you back —Charles pulls you into a tight hug, avoiding pressuring his bandaged hands against your body. —You had me worried.

You take a good peek at those.

—Second-degree burns on each. Something wrong went with my car; they are still investigating it. I lost brakes and control of her; thank god there wasn't a concrete wall or metal barrier and fence nearby, just rows of bumpers and forest beyond; a part at the front of the car caught fire due to the extreme friction, and that burned me.

You look at him, very pale, with your eyes widened.

—I know, I get what could have happened, but it didn't —Charles looks away with watery eyes. —So, let's move on. I'm not stopping racing.

You wipe a tear coming down your face.

—Oh no, no, I'm fine. It will take a minute, but I will be ready for the Dutch GP.

—Like a turkey put in an oven.

—I'll be fully cooked by then!

You both laugh; you missed your silly times with Charles so much. You picture him in a puffy turkey costume, struggling to get inside his car, not fitting.

—I'm glad you are alright; well, you know what I mean. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you needed it.

—It's okay, you are now.

-

Hi, honey! Yeah, no... Hi! Toto!? No! Once more... Hello Tots! Better! Remember that time when we fucked the shit out of each other, and then I disappeared for weeks? I'm back now! How is it going, my love? Yeah, like any of that is going to work.

You wait for the rest of the Mercedes team to leave their garage to slowly approach him, taking your time with each step, fighting your urge to run away.

—A text would have been nice —He tells you as soon as he feels you near, his eyes reading a graph slide on his iPad. Okay, that's a really icy tone.

—I'm sorry. I...

—Uhmju. So... —he closes the tablet's case, gets on his feet, fully upright, his height towering over you, and leans against the control center table, looking straight at you. —Business trips, huh? —he crosses his muscular arms. —Where have you really been? —Even if you are that nervous, you can't avoid peeking at his attractive flexed biceps.

—In Belgium. I had a personal emergency.

—What happened? —he swifts his tone to slightly concerned.

—I can't tell you.

He frowned at your answer, which was not good enough for him.—I see. It's not like it matters that you vanished for a month without a trace or warning and that didn't answer any of my worried calls or my sleepless late-night texts —Toto says.

—Toto, I-

—It's not like you have to explain a thing to me. It's not like I worried anyway —Toto interrupts you with a lot of sarcasm, moving to place his things inside his briefcase. —Well, I do really have a business trip to go. Excuse me —he passes you by, inches away, dodging your body.

He leaves you standing there, alone in the now empty Mercedes' garage. —I'm happy to see you —you say softly to yourself as you watch him walk further away in the distance, feeling you are about to cry.

How can his voice go from soft and sweet to sexy and guttural to authoritarian and commanding to this condescending and cold one? It needs to be studied.

-

The following day, Toto is nowhere to be seen. Sam notices you glancing around the paddock, looking for him near the Merc area. You don't feel like losing him, and you are there to try again to offer him an apology.

—He is in Germany. He will be here later —she tells you as she reaches you after exiting the Mercedes hospitality. —Hi! We didn't have a chance to talk yesterday; it's been crazy days for this team! How did it go?

—He is so mad at me anyways —you let out very sad. Sam can't avoid feeling sorry for you, which you notice and hate. 

—He has been under much pressure lately; we are still in P3 at Constructors and Drivers, and we got disqualified in Canada to add more to his stress.

—What?!

—Tecnicallities and human errors, which had him fuming. Plus, all the drama in his personal life with you missing.

—And the Sussie drama, too, probably.

—Sussie's drama?! —she looks at you perplexed, like a second head had grown from your neck.

—I had dinner at Lewis before Matthew's call. He mentioned at the table that she was staying with him at his place in Monaco; he made it sound like they were still in a relationship but on rocky times.

—Toto is not that type —Sam reassures a slightly insecure-looking you. —I would ask him about it, but he no longer confides in me. By the way, now Toto knows when I lie —that's why Samanta hates letting his walls down; it makes her more vulnerable to others. —You don't know how many times he asked me things; I denied knowing what was going on with you or where you were every time, but not once he believed me. It got worse when he noticed a nervous Niki looking straight at me whenever he came to inquire. So it will be best if you let me out of the loop, but only a bit, eh?

You look stunned at her; wow, Toto did really know Sam; reading her was so difficult. Then you move to answer her previous question, informing her: —The plan is still on track, with no significant alterations. We ran a couple of scenarios with the tactics department, and it all went well; even Pascal joined us to give his input. It felt weird to be back at the manor, like somehow I didn't belong there anymore; I missed my new life and you guys so fucking much!

—Pascal went to the manor?! —Sam's eyebrows go up in the air, stunned.

—No, no, he joined us in a secure call line. You know Matt doesn't allow him there; plus, he is still under house arrest in Hungary.

—Oh yeah, I forgot about that; it's been a while —Sam scratches her head. —Are you nervous?

—Yes.

—I will be there by your side —she squeezes your hand.

—Oh no, I don't want you even near all that.

—And everyone missed you too! The group was worried!

-

It hits you differently now, by how things turned out. 

But you can't avoid thinking that you are in Toto's homeland, which makes your mind wander to the dangerous thoughts you have been avoiding all day. 

All those what-ifs? 

What if you hadn't left? 

What if Toto wasn't mad at you? 

What if he had taken you to a romantic dinner in Vienna? 

What if he had shown you his favorite places from growing up? 

You also can't escape the thought of Toto's family. 

What if they showed up? 

What if you had met them? 

What if you got introduced to them? 

Of course, none of this will happen because you two aren't a thing yet. You killed your chances, and now you two are just friends who slept with each other and desire one another, but just that. 

Oh god, you pray you two aren't really just that. 

You screwed things with Toto so fast, don't you? It happened sooner than you expected to.

-

It's late. Toto arrives at his remote office straight from the jet in the late afternoon and stays working till dark. He has several papers to read and sign and essential things to approve; he needs quietness and no one bothering or interrupting, which is impossible during work hours. He sees you walk past behind the tinted windows of his headquarters. It is unusual for you to be around at these hours.

The lane is empty, and your heels sound louder than they should. All building facades remain lit, and only a couple of rooms inside them have the lights on for those late stayers, making the paddock feel less lonely than it should as you rush to your car on your way out. It was a tough day and an awful one.

Toto grabs his things and tries to reach you; he is angry and stressed, but it is not all your fault. He closes the door loudly, on purpose. You turn around at the sound, jumping a bit. He is about to crack a joke to ease things and come closer waving a peace flag but notices your red eyes from crying. His expression changes to one of honest concern.

—Shit —you let out softly, under your breath. He is the last person you want to meet in this state.

He comes close and stares at you for a good second. You don't say a word, and he tightly wraps you in his arms. He is warm and smells so good. You bury your head in his chest and meld in his embrace. He rests his chin on the top of your head; the height difference makes it comfortable for him.

—Feel like talking about it? —Toto says sweetly.

—No.

—Okay, it's all good. You don't have to. Can I hold you till you feel better?

—Yes, please —you softly sob; you feel like a little girl in his arms. He makes you feel like that all the time. You are only a couple of years younger than him. But he is such a grown-up in your eyes. And you are a fragile, weak thing on the constant verge of breakdown.

You cry in his arms, and he wipes and kisses your tears away. You melt inside. This man is too much.

He carries you in his arms inside the modern Mercedes building to the unlit, empty lobby; you two cuddle on the floor, Toto's back against the hallway wall, on top of the silver arrows logo carpet, and you lay on his chest, your legs crossing his.

Toto apologizes: —I shouldn't have said those things like that, but I was sore.

—I understand where it comes from. It's okay, I get it. I missed you so much —you let Toto know; he leans his forehead on yours, noses touching too.

And you kiss. You feel Toto's warm and soothing lips on yours, and you two start to tenderly and sweetly make out; it's warm, wet, and intimate, and when you are to caress his neck with your hand, almost out of breath but not able to stop, he suddenly breaks it off, taking you by surprise. 

—We should leave; we don't want fines on our way for overstaying. Stay with me tonight.

You nod, agreeing.

-

It's an exquisite bathroom the one in his hotel suite, with white walls decorated with the French boiserie technique and polished marble white floors with ornamental gold flowers hand-painted on the large tiles. Tall windows let the light enter behind the light curtains. A large frame mirror with gold edges sits against the wall and over the floor.

You two share the white bathtub, a 19th-century piece with gold leaf borders; you are happily placed on top of him inside it in the warm water, rubbing the expensive bamboo mesh loofah on his naked chest while he lets you know every detail about his trip to Germany and the crazy weeks he had while placing small kisses on your shoulders, neck, and mouth every once in a while. 

After that relaxing and repairing scented bath, you make it to the bed, and since all your things are in your hotel room, you steal one of his t-shirts as pajamas, both knowing quite well it's too tempting that you sleep butt naked on top his mattress, you both have to wake up early the following morning, and it's been a hectic day. Still, you decide not to wear underwear beneath it.

You make yourself comfortable on his bare firm chest, tracing small circles with your fingers on his pecks; Toto is only wearing tight navy blue and light fabric boxers, which make his bulge look so fine down there; you feel him pat your ass skin softly; and placing his large hand there before falling asleep.

If none of you were this tired and this emotionally drained right now, you would be about to reach an orgasm at this point.

-

You wake up early and share the room-service breakfast you ordered; you give Toto some of your fruit to his mouth, and he shares with you his salmon bagel; emotions always open the appetite before leaving the room with enough time to arrive at the circuit, you need to make a stop at your hotel before heading to the track. 

When the SUV arrives at the drop-off entrance in front of the hotel's baroque facade, Toto pulls you into a kiss in the backseat, leaving you gasping for more before you exit the car.

—We still have free time, so —you whisper against his lips.

He smiles at you. Toto drags you to the elevators faster than an F1 car.

-

You both enter your hotel suite and go straight to the bed, clothes getting out in the way on your path.

He spreads you on your knees, on all fours, on top of the mattress, at the border of the bed, while he fucks you doggy style while on his feet. You bounce against his hard cock, skin slapping, moans coming out from both sides when the tip of his dick hits the spot inside you. Every time, more desperate strokes. He slaps you on the ass. His open palm hits your right ass cheek, leaving a mark. 

Then he grabs you firmly by the hips, adding pressure, and starts to give it to you harder and faster. You can't stop moaning from the pleasure. You are being so loud, but you don't care; you feel done holding back or hiding any emotions that man makes you feel.

What Toto does to you next is unholy. He runs his hands along your arms till he reaches your palms, then wraps them around his own neck to make you support yourself, provoking you to arch your back. His free left hand caresses your chin and neck, then softly chokes you, making you turn your face to look straight at him. 

Holding you in that position, he starts playing with his tongue inside your mouth. He licks your lips and bites them while adding pressure against your hips and buries his right fingernails in your right soft tigh. He is as inside you as he can. He is aching for you more every second. 

He starts rocking himself against you, hitting your pussy and ass faster this time around. He has you moaning incoherently. The rhythm is so good; he fucks you in that position for a while till you start to feel so warm inside with each penetration; he is hard as fuck. And you feel you can't keep it together any longer. The pleasure is unbelievable. And you want to release. You start begging him to stop, well knowing you mean don't you dare! —Baby, I can't! Baby! I can't take it anymore! —You feel a hot sensation running down your legs. —Toto! —you moan as you start squirting all over your thighs and his.

—Fuck! —he growls, almost bestially, against your ear, getting drunk on your sents and fluids.

He shifts his whole body weight against yours, slowly pushing and pinning you down, your tummy against the mattress. Toto extends your arms and intertwines your hands and fingers with his in a sort of arrow position, completely topping you, rocking his hips in circles against your ass; you feel buried under his weight till Toto moans intense cumming noises to your ear, those noises drive you mad. He sounds so hot when he finishes.

—Stay in —you beg him. Oh, how he looks at you, what his eyes express makes your heart melt. You want him to be obsessed with you, to breathe you. It's borderline toxic, but that's how infatuated you are with him. You two remain in that position while kissing the life out of each other. You can feel him swing his hips every once in a while till his erection fades away.

-

Toto is the first one to step out of the shower; you enjoy the view of him butt naked, his wet hair dripping, the drops traveling through his bare chest down his abs and lower body while he strokes his length and legs with the towel, getting dry.

Once you are dry, too, and wrapped in a bathrobe, you start picking your clothes from the entryway floor; you two barely made it to the bed, unable to contain yourselves a second more, before going to the dressing room to select your outfit for today.

Toto is again putting on his Mercedes uniform, now in a bit of a rush. 

You are looking for your thong everywhere on the carpet, not knowing where it flew; you want to avoid the maid the awkward moment; it's the only piece of clothing missing. 

—I'm happy to have you back —he says with his whole heart, looking at you while finishing buttoning up his shirt. 

—I counted the days to be back with you —you say, emotional. Toto comes close, kisses the palm of your hand, and licks your index finger.

—I hope you don't need to leave again soon, but if you do, these stay with me —he is holding your panties hostage in his black jeans left pocket. 

None of you feel like saying goodbye and keep finding excuses in the form of kisses and petting to postpone it. Still, you must be discreet and professional and somehow manage to be together amidst everything in your life. It is a high-risk and conflict-of-interest kind of relationship on all fronts, but it feels worth it to you that you are ready to risk it all for him.

-

Sam, Charles, and you are hanging out in a famous high-end bakery in Vienna. The place is very bright, with high ceilings, white walls with mint accents of color, greenery, and modern gold lamps give the place its character; a massive large white wood display counter bar is full of rows of delicious pieces of bread and desserts, the clear wooden floors, light wood furniture, and small tables make it feel cozy. The place smells so good and feels warm.

Your mood is entirely different now. Sam stares at you while slurping dramatically and loudly the remains of her chocolate frappe through the straw.

—What? —you say while chewing your sacher würfel when you notice her eyes on you.

—They fucked —Charles adds before Sam can open her mouth. You two turn his way. He moves his hand in a kind of I recognize that smile on her while holding his vanilla kipferl.

—Yes —You admit, all blush. —But we discussed things too! —you rush to add.

—You told him where you went and what happened? —Charles asks you.

—You asked him about the Sussie thing? —Sam asks you.

Both at the same time.

—Well, no...

They roll their eyes at you.

Then Sam looks at you like you are crazy. —Then what did you two discuss? WAIT! Did you tell Charles?

—Of course, she told me! We are roomies AND besties!

Then Sam acts all jealous. —Hey! Get your own best friend!

—Charles intercepted me on my way out of the apartment; he only knew I would be out of town for a while —you clarify to Sam quickly before she slips out something important. —By the way, how is "abs" doing? —then you address Charles.

Samanta looked confused; she had never heard that name before. —Who is "abs"?

—Our womanizer neighbor in Monaco.

Still blank.

—The blond dude with long hair in a man-bun that's all ripped and has insane abs? —Charles gives her input.

Sam shakes her head.

—The one who is always shirtless and looks like Thor? He lives in the apartment right across our hallway and door —You add.

—No idea —she says, feeling left out.

—He is nice. Well... Yeah, it is hard to define. Sometimes, he hides from his conquests at our place after having fun, waiting for them to go. But he is hilarious and brings beers on cheat day Thursday —Charles explains.

—You going to love him, trust me, he is a sweet and trustworthy brute —you tell Sam.

-

A Twitter notification sounds on Millie's phone.

"Oh, miss Normani, it's great to have you back! Ferrari's red is a color that suits your skin so well; God bless the QUEEN!🐝🇬🇧" a video is attached along with the Sky Sports tweet. A stunning, athletic young girl walks down the paddock lane wearing impeccable street-style clothing, looking so chic, cameras flashing photos at her; Lewis's clothing game is getting challenged.

—Trouble is on our way —Millie hands her phone to Michael. 

—Oh, yeah, I heard the rumor at the start of the season that she would be taking the reserve driver seat for them, but that it went cold —Michael adds.

—Your sources are shit then —Millie jokes. He softly pushes her out of his way, joking.

—Well, let's give her a fight! —He motivates Millie.

-

—Certainly, I didn't see this one coming our way —Christian lets out after getting the news.

—Sorry, but who is she? —Helmut asks him.

—She's just the biggest name in girls' racing ever, no big deal —he jokes sarcastically. 

—The one that disappeared at the top of her game? I followed the scandal back in the day —Checo admits.

—Well, she is no longer on hiatus, it seems. Good thing is only for a few races! —Christian says while following her with his gaze as she enters the Ferrari headquarters.

-

—Mattia almost shit his pants when she finally answered him back. You are going to adore her. Normani is THE thing! —Charles gossips with Sam and you in the armchairs in the lobby of the Williams headquarters. —She lives in London and knows excellent places to hang out next week. I invited her to join us.

—I love the idea; this group always has room for another girl.

-

Once you are back at the circuit after lunch, you catch Toto sitting alone at a large picnic table under the shadow of a tree in an area further away from the hospitality and garages, working with his phone in hand. That man is all work, when will he relax? You go on your way there to annoy him so much.

—There is an entire long empty bench, and you sit right next —He tells you, in a deep voice but joking, arching his eyebrow, sensing your body against his.

You smile and giggle, getting even closer to him, almost blending with his side.

—God —he lets out exasperated but crosses an arm behind you and places his hand on top of yours, caressing it.

Then you move to get your things out of your large Bottega Venetta tote bag to work by his side; you have emails to answer.

You two get in the zone and focus on your tasks till you notice Toto moving his head to nose in your business.

—What's that mail for? Who are you sending it to? Why are you sending it? Hey, don't look at me like that. You are the one who chose to sit right next. I ask questions all the time; that's my job.

—Okay, but the annoyance part is my job in our relationship —you dare to shoot your shot, to see how he reacts, what he says.

You obtain no comment; he simply replies: —You have a fake job, remember?

Then, you slowly and overdramatically close your small and slim laptop with a single finger.

Toto looks at you with his eyes half closed and chin up.

—My secrets aren't for free, my love —you joke. You regret that wording later.

—Okay —He pays you with a couple of quick kisses; you are in a not very transit area and have enough privacy to do so. —What were you doing in Belgium?

—I meant the Williams-related ones; those are the ones for sale!

—Oh! Those I don't care about; we are about to bite you guys in the ass, anyways! —he says, overconfident, teasing you.

—Toto, dreaming is for free, don't you know?!

-

Toto was right; Lewis and George make a one-two. Normani gets on the podium, too, leaving Millie out. Well, that was quite the introduction for her.

-

Very late at night, you hear knocks on your suite door; you leave your warm and cozy bed to attend it. It's Toto.

As soon as you open the door, you feel a pair of lips on yours.

—I thought I would be sleeping all alone and sad after today's race on this chilly night —you pout, stopping kissing a second.

—Sorry, I went out to celebrate with the boys —Toto is a bit tipsy; he is wearing casual clothing now; layering looks so good on him! He is wearing a black turtle neck long-sleeve shirt under a very expensive cashmere grey, plain, modern blazer paired with black pants, loafer shoes, and an obsidian and silver bracelet; his hair is messy. 

Toto gets sillier and more relaxed when in that state, a thing you love, and also he gets hornier, too, to your pleasure.

The rustic fireplace is on, keeping the spacious room warm. You witness Toto rearrange the area; Toto pushes the coffee table out of the way in the sitting area right in front of the fire and brings pillows from the bed to let them fall on top of the puffy brown rug in there. 

Then he comes for you and takes you there by the hand. You two lay there wrapped in each other arms, making out. Toto's hands are on your ass and hips.

—Cozy and warm enough, baby girl? —he asks against your lips.

—Eh... —you shrug, joking. He smiles at you, then combs your hair tenderly with his fingers.

—Is there a chance you have a condom? We used the one in my wallet in the morning.

You shake your head; oh, bummer!

—Is it okay if I finish outside?

You feel your body shiver at his words.

—Yes. It's okay.

Clothes start to go out of the way; he gets you naked in no time; you are only wearing a black one-piece, sexy satin lace nightdress. He moves to help you get him undressed. His eyes go all over your body. —I keep fantasizing about what I'm going to do to you.

He takes you by surprise. Your cheeks turn red.

When you are both naked, he pushes you closer by the ass, making you spread your legs to give him room to get in the middle; you are sitting in a lotus position, your legs flexed over his, your thighs touching his thighs, he runs his hand all over your leg down to your ankle, you wrap your hands around his neck while you kiss.

Then, he slowly starts to lay you low on your back, making you lay on the pillows; he helps you make yourself comfortable on them and starts playing with your nipples, licking them with the tip of his tongue and biting them softly while locking eyes with you. He cups your tit and sucks it into his mouth; after a bit, he moves his way down. He starts eating your pussy like he is starving; you feel his wet tongue deep in you. He loves giving small kisses to your clit, provoking you to moan a lot. —I love running my tongue over every inch of you —he lets you know.

—Do you feel like to 69? —you ask him in the middle of a moan.

—Please —his voice is rough.

You sit on top of him, and you feel him burying his face in you, hand squeezing your ass while continuing to taste your pussy; amidst your loud moans, you start stroking his length and go down on his cock; you love his dick inside your mouth. You are giving him head so good that he stops for a minute to breathe heavily and moan.

—Fuck! I want to make it inside you; if you keep going, I'm going to burst inside your mouth.

—I wouldn't mind, but I love having you inside me, too.

You are more than wet and him more than hard when he slowly enters you. You both savor the movement. Then he flexes your left leg up and supports your calf on his shoulder. He starts to thrust you in that position while grabbing your right tit tightly. You feel his dick sliding inside every time faster. You are both panting and gasping.

He then switches positions, taking control this time; he gets your knees together and makes you get your legs up; he holds you in place with a firm grip from his hand on your hamstring muscles in a "hero" sex position, and Toto rocks his hips back and forward with deep strokes, you feel and see how his dick is curving up.

You start to scratch his thigh with your fingernails and slap his ass as the pleasure gets too good. —You fuck me so good, baby —you moan, reaching an orgasm in that position.

After giving yourself time to catch your breath for a second, you see how Toto lays down back against the rug; you immediately move to ride him. You feel him throbbing in pleasure inside and underneath you as you bounce hard up and down his dick; with your tits bouncing, he extends his arms to reach them and pinch your nipples, adding pressure with his fingers; then he starts wincing and biting his own lips; after a while, he rushes to place one of his large hands in your tummy, and you pull his cock out of you to start jerking it. Lots of guttural sounds come out of his mouth till he starts dripping. You feel his warm semen on your hand and abs, and you caress his chest with your free one and bend to kiss him hungrily.

Then he captures that hand and starts licking your index and middle fingers, sucking them inside his mouth and getting them wet enough with his saliva to then start leading your hand down on you, making you finger yourself, his hand on top of yours controlling and directing the movements. It gets to a point when you are so inside yourself and extremely wet that you are mess-moaning his name. Soft "Totos" is all he hears.

—Cum baby, cum for me —you feel your body trembling with his touch and yours. And you release, leaking on the rug beneath you. 

Your bodies are so heated and sweaty near the fireplace; he drops on his back after being angled fingering you, with his cock bent to the left. You place yourself next to him, hands running on his shoulders and toned arms. You kiss in that position for a while before heading towards the bathroom.

-

Before falling asleep, your chauffeur knocks on the door to deliver you a drugstore bag. As you finish drinking your tall glass of water after taking the Plan B pill and place it on the nightstand, Toto tells you he is going to spend time with his family so that he won't be sharing the flight to the UK with you. He will arrive two days later, just in time for the race.

He doesn't invite you to join him.

-

UK

You are all forced to rush to Silverstone from Austria for the anniversary race of the F1, which will take place before the usual activities of the Hungary GP start, leaving no room to rest for anyone. 

It's going to be such a unique and fabulous event, and indeed, the FIA outdid themselves. Still, it's insane for the drivers and teams to rush from one country to another and move all the equipment and people with zero time margin. No one is in their best senses when arriving at the circuit, and everyone looks like it.

Due to the logistics of the massive event, the meeting before free practice is to start at 6.00 a.m. Lando hits his head against the clear glass panel doors, trying to enter the meeting room, half asleep, holding a Red Bull in his shaky hand.

He goes straight to you. You are already sitting in the chair with your name tag. At this point, no one cares about them or respects them. It is more like a classroom now; the group always sits together at the back of the room.

Lando mumbles something that you and Millie believe means good morning, and then he takes a couple of the empty chairs next to you to lay on top of, placing his head on your thighs and using them as a pillow.

Making you laugh. —Okay, yes, go ahead —you joke. Then Lando really falls asleep. —Lando out! —you inform the group.

Lewis is in the same row as you, but at the very end, legs on top of the empty chairs beside him, with his back leaned against a sound asleep Vettel, buried beneath a massive puffer Mercedes' jacket, tilted against the wall in a sitting position. 

The room is almost empty except for you five.

—Angela almost tore down my bedroom door; she knocked so hard to wake me up. I nearly didn't make it, guys; I don't know how I got here —Lewis chats with you with a sleepy voice and swollen eyes.

Christian enters the room. —Is tits freezing today —he greets you. With a couple of "ah" sounds, he drops himself on the chairs in the front row. —I'm so old for this! —you all laugh. —You two look so well put together —He addresses Lewis and you, looking as stylish as ever. —I envy you.

Millie showed up in a set of Kuromi's pajamas, cocooned under Mick's Williams team winter jacket, that looked huge on her.

—Thanks, man —Lewis says.

Charles enters, greeting you with a peace sign gesture, followed by Carlos piggybacking a sleeping Daniel. —I would give you a hand, but... —Charles jokes, showing his bandages.

Normani enters, stealing the entire room's attention, wearing a white Dior long fleece blazer on top of a form-fitted pearl wool dress and a matching long scarf paired with high-knee suede boots in the same color. It's a monochromatic, stunning look with a combination of textures; her long hair is in a sleek ponytail, allowing it to show the beautiful minimal white gold earrings she is wearing, completing the look. 

Millie waves her hand at Normani, and she looks happy to see her in there. After greeting the room, she reaches to sit by her side and catch up. You all look at her in awe. She is so beautiful, like a doll.

—Is that Geroge? —Niki asks, on attendance this time, since Toto is not around yet.

—It's Sebastian —everyone answers in unison. He and Lewis are the first two to arrive, so no one witnessed how Vettel fell asleep mid-conversation in his chair like a grandpa and how Lewis got him warm and covered under his Mercedes puffer, yet no one has a doubt it is him who is hiding underneath there; this surprises Lewis.

—I'm shooting the poor fucker responsible for waking me up this early —Niki shouts, provoking smiles.

At his back, Masi enters the meeting room, looking very worried.

-

London is one of Sam's favorite cities; it has everything she likes. Plus, it's full of very cool girls who make her nervous and all blushy, so she loves to run errands for Niki when in town; she always ends up meeting someone and asking for a date. The best sex she has ever had in her life has been there; her greatest loves have been "chapstick" lesbians from East London.

Sam has spent her entire day on the streets being driven around, completing all the tasks on Niki's long list of things he asked her to do. It's getting dark, and the last item for today is to drop some jewelry at Cartier to get it clean. So the chauffeur takes her to the one in Old Bond Street. Her favorite, Sam, loves it even more when it's Christmas and the stunning decor is on the facade.

The store's doorman rushes to open her car door as the SUV pulls in front of the jewelry main entry. She gracefully gets down and greets him.

—Good evening, mam —he replies, welcoming her inside. Sam had been feeling happy the entire day, but it went away as soon as she entered. In the contiguous stanza, in the highly expensive-looking sitting area, Toto and Sussie are looking together at some exclusive pieces a sales lady is showing them; Sam glimpses the sparkles projected out of those under the lights from far away.

Toto is not supposed to be here, nor are they supposed to be together, she thinks, but disregards the thought; probably he just got free sooner, and they are just hanging out since Sussie lives here most of the time.

Then she goes ahead with her errand; as Sam delivers the pieces to the man behind the counter, she sees Toto getting handed back his credit card; after a bit, a man gives a box to Sussie's hands; they get up at the same and start exiting the room together; holding hands.

Fuck! They are about to see her; there is no way she can duck down and hide behind clear crystal panels.

—Sam! —Sussie greets her, noticing her and happy to see her.

Fuuuuuuck.

Toto turned his head, perplexed; he was checking out the male bracelets on the display wall on their way to the exit. He lets Sussie's hand go, and she comes close to hug Sam.

—Hi! How are you? Good to see you!

—Likewise!

—Shopping spree?

—Oh, no, I'm just running an errand for Niki —she waves her hand, dismissing it. —All ready? —Sam addresses the jewelry cleaner guy.

—In a minute —he offers her a smile.

—Hey, why don't you join us for dinner?! —Sussie offers her.

—I would love to! But I have another task yet; I don't wish to get Niki all grumpy; you know how he is when he gets in a bad mood —Lies. Sussie laughs and nods, agreeing; Toto remains quiet and further away.

—Well, next time, then! When you are in Monaco too, come to our place, yes?

—Yes!

Okay, this is a shitty position to be for Sam; if she doesn't tell you, she is a terrible friend to you. But if she tells you, she is a lousy friend to Toto. LORD HAVE MERCY! She needs to give it a thought before opening her mouth!

-

When Toto decides to show up at the paddock, he goes to look for you. He looks tired and falls asleep next to you on a bench. You cover his face with your Balenciaga bomber jacket, giving him more privacy. You rest your left hand on top of his chest. 

Samanta then arrives.

—Oh, he is here, good.

—Shss, he just fell asleep!

—This reminds me of how babies are so cute when sleeping but a terror when up.

—He is always baby —you say with a silly voice, caressing his chest.

Toto tries to listen to the conversation beneath your jacket with his eyes closed; he is about to fall asleep when he hears Samanta's voice. He needs to talk to her and explain things, but he is so comfortable in your embrace, so that can wait.

—Haven't you seen his photo from when he was a kid? They asked us for the digital version to print and place on the commemorative mural the FIA is making for the anniversary pit walk.

—No, I haven't! Is it better than baby Bottas?

—Oh, you are going to die! I have the original one in my purse here —Sam hands you a glossy, old-looking picture, a bit yellowy.

—Aawwww, he is so cute! —You observe in detail the photo of little Toto, a bit tall for his age, with skinny legs and dark, wild hair up and to the sides, leaned against his go-kart, helmet in hand; his little sister makes a small appearance in the back, picking a pebble or something from the floor wearing a floral pattern jumper. Toto is wearing an electric blue seventies driver's suit. —Hair hasn't changed a bit; that pose is everything! —you instantly get heart eyes. —His nose is so tiny, and he looks adorable. So cute! —you say with a silly voice and stare at the picture more.

—Now give it back! —Sam demands you; she yanks the photo of your grip, struggling until you let it go, then Sam archives it quickly in her purse.

—Now, shush! I'm reading essential documents —you tell her.

—Like your job was for real!

—Excuse you with that again! —Sam smiles at you and quickly disappears, noticing you are about to throw your tumbler at her.

Half an hour later, you feel Toto move on the bench, turning and almost falling to the side. He tries to incorporate and bumps his forehead with the table.

—Ouchie, love! —you let out and start to rub his temple tenderly.

—Ow! That hurt! —Toto lets you pamper him. Then stays stomach on the bench, making tired noises.

—I don't love my job very much right now —He says, and after a couple of minutes, he starts incorporating, no longer being able to avoid it, dragging along your bomber jacket, stuck and caught on behind his neck, with his hair all wild, and an "I just wake up" face.

—I just saw a photo of kid you with that same hairstyle!

He looks at you with one wonky eye, slowly processing the information.

All you can do is smile at him and softly laugh at the sight; you are so in love with him.

—Gotta get going! —he tells you, gets on his feet, places your jacket at your side, and bends his tall, fit body to kiss you on the cheek, rubbing your shoulders with his hands simultaneously before walking away.

I will not be able to resist greet and saying goodbye to him just with kisses on the cheek any longer.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

[matan4il]

Watched Eurovision last weekend and tried to only pay attention to the music but oof, the Israel derangement was horrid. Were any of the other contestants nice to Eden or at the very least not total assholes to her because where's she's from? Please tell me someone was decent or even mildly professional.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm glad to tell you that there WERE people who were personally decent to Eden and the Israeli team, from what I've heard.

One of the parts that suck is that it feels like talking about it too loudly might bring those people into the line of fire. I can say that about myself, that while I was treated awfully by some people in fandom, I've had people be absolutely wonderful to me, and I've had to keep my mouth shut and not thank or celebrate them publicly, because that would have drawn the fire to them. They absolutely do not deserve that. And it sucks that I can't even be openly grateful. Same with the people friendlier to Eden, we Israelis have heard stuff, so we know of them and are thankful, but I don't think anyone has said anything too public, because no one wants to endanger them.

Still, I hope it's been long enough since the final, that we can safely share a few things. Also, I'll emphasize that most of this is hearsay, I can't verify any of it, because it wasn't published officially, this is just the stuff we hear.

The Israeli singer who grew up in and was representing Luxembourg was really lovely with Eden. Tali could have easily avoided ANY association with Eden, so I give her credit for not doing that. The German singer was the nicest to the Eden and Israeli delegation, and I also heard that Germany actually stood up for Israel when the EBU wanted to disqualify it, rightly pointing out the differences between this situation and Russia's ban. I heard good things about the Austrian singer as well, the Latvian, and the Georgian singer. There's probably more that aren't popping into my mind right now, but this is a start, and it's nice knowing kind people, who won't bully a 20 years old singer just because of her nationality, do exist, right?

Another part that sucks is that even some of the people who were nice backstage to Eden, were only willing to do so away from the public eye. I think the most extreme one is the 2023 runner up, Finnish performer Käärijä. He ran into Eden backstage and was totally cool with them doing a short, quick rendition of his ESC song together (which you can see in the link below). It was clearly just two people who love music having fun together, but once the vid was posted online, people started attacking him for supporting genocide (because that's not a leap of logic at all), and he quickly put out a message denouncing everything he's said and done ever, including being born. Then he just had to reassure all of his bullies that he's "okay" even further. The Norwegian 2023 singer who was supposed to deliver her country's jury results had already announced she won't as an anti-Israel measure, so when he was supposed to give the Finnish jury vote, he simply announced he won't, letting people make the connection, and figure out for themselves that it was an anti-Israel move.

Still I think you can take the ones who weren't loudly nasty to Eden, and assume most were nice enough to her privately, even if not publicly. To figure out who those probably were, on top of the ones I mentioned above, I'll just give a short rundown of the performers who were being awful about Israel to different degrees (so you can figure out who was at least decent by way of elimination): Ireland, Belgium, Switzerland, the UK, the Netherlands, Greece, Portugal, Lithuania, Norway, Finland, Slovenia, San Marino, Denmark.

I hope I helped... Have a good day! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[qqueenofhades]

May I ask about prompts 14 and 38 for Dreamling, perhaps?

Dr. Robert Gadling presently has ninety-nine problems, and students who cannot read the module handbook are, at a minimum, ninety-eight of them. (How did they finish school? Take their GCSEs or A-Levels, any of it, while being functionally illiterate? Etc. etc. dismal condition of British state education and indeed the entire British state under the Tories, but still.) He has just fired off a hopefully polite-sounding group email advising everyone to please have a proper look at the posted content before sending him individual queries, when there's a knock on his door and he glances up, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah?"

"Rob?" It's Philippa, again, which makes his heart sink on reflex. They've already had several serious conversations intended to make him consider the possibility of becoming Head of School when her term's up next May, and -- frankly, over his dead body, which in his case is not at all a metaphor. It turns out, however, that she's not here to harass him to take on more professional responsibility, but rather to attend to his personal life. "Your boyfriend's skulking in the foyer and frightening the freshers again. Make him knock it off."

"My boyfr -- ?" Yeah, yeah, all right, the gentleman doth protest too much. Hob hasn't felt up to taking Dream to any faculty functions just yet, but he did tell Amira the other evening at the welcome-back mixer that he was seeing someone, and the news must have spread as fast as any other juicy department gossip. Hob sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. Thanks, Philippa. I'll tell him off."

With that, not sad to get away from the horror of his inbox, Hob pushes back his chair and gets to his feet, trotting out his office door and down the stairs. Even before he descends into sight of the foyer, he can tell where the problem is located. Dream is standing spookily just inside the door, in full goth-black, long-coat, pale-faced, looming-in-your-nightmares splendor, and students are indeed outright sprinting to get past him. Others seem to think he's some weird piece of performance art from the theatre department and are asking for selfies, which makes him stare at them even more. Hob swallows a groan, speeds up, and reaches the ground floor. "Oy," he hisses at the unrepentant King of Dreams. "What are you doing here?"

As per fucking usual, Morpheus haughtily disdains to provide a sensible answer (or indeed, any answer). Hob adores the skinny eldritch weirdo, he really does, but one problem he did not foresee now that they're officially an item is that Dream has gotten downright clingy. After going a hundred years between seeing each other, with each of those meetings usually ending in disaster, Hob's still getting used to the idea of seeing him regularly -- weekly, even. It's not like he minds. Variety is the spice of immortal life, and all that. But it does mean that they need to have a few conversations about boundaries, and this is definitely one of them.

"I'm busy," Hob says, doing his best to sound stern. "I've got work to do, love. Like we do in the human world, eh? Can't all sit around in magical throne rooms, brood, and spin magical stories."

Dream looks miffed at this lightweight estimation of his professional duties. He opens his mouth for some sort of pompous reprimand, but Hob holds up a hand. "Be back at five PM and save me from the emails, and we can jog off together somewhere, all right? But not until then. And stop scaring the students, or Philippa will have my head. Or make me be the Head, and I'm not sure which one's worse."

Dream once more appears about to object -- he still hasn't gotten in a word edgewise, which is probably for the best. But Hob looks furtively in either direction, then kisses Dream on the cheek, spins him around, and propels him out the exit, whereupon he looks very much like an extremely ruffled bird -- raven, probably, which Matthew is bound to find amusing. Mother of God, Hob's life is strange.

Biting a smile despite himself, he trudges back upstairs and dutifully applies himself to the remainder of the paperwork and otherwise makes sure that everything is in order. Then at 5:04pm, he gets up, grabs his things, and heads back downstairs, where Morpheus is waiting for him. "You are," he announces stiffly, "late."

"Only by four minutes. Pretty sure the world won't end." Hob grins crookedly. "Eager to see me, then?"

Morpheus, of course, cannot countenance actually saying this aloud, but it doesn't matter. He holds out his hand, Hob decides he doesn't care who sees him take it, and does so. Then all at once, the familiar surroundings of the Department of History stretch and ripple and fade away, and the next instant, they're not there at all, or London, or Earth. They're here, in Morpheus's home. The Dreaming.

As usual, the place looks eerie, magical, mystical, and lovely, and Hob is getting somewhat more used to the abrupt transition between worlds, so he only swallows hard a few times and then is good to go. They ascend to the castle, he and Lucienne greet each other warmly, and then Morpheus jealously squires him up to his rooms at the top of the tower, beneath the vast dome. The great bed is a temptation, and doubtless they will end up there before too long, but a supper is already laid, glimmering in the fey candles, and Hob blows out a relieved breath. "Could eat an ox. You're a lifesaver, darling."

Morpheus looks the usual blend of awkward and pleased he always does when Hob casually uses endearments or expresses affection. "Does this make up for me alarming your pupils, then?"

"More 'n." Hob sinks into the chair and tries not to wolf down everything in sight. "But still. Don't do it again."

They eat (here in his own realm, in his own stuff, Morpheus eats too). They drink, they talk. It's like old times, and more. Afterward, they go outside to gaze at the stars, a thousand times brighter and more brilliant than anything on Earth, and Morpheus's tousled dark head sinks slowly onto Hob's shoulder, like a feral cat finally becoming close enough with one trusted person to let itself be petted, let itself be loved. Hob bites another smile, this one unspeakably tender, and leans in to kiss Dream's hair. Aye, his life is bloody strange, and it always has been. But he would not trade it for the world.

[naeverse]

I have some news to share...😕

Hello, everyone. I have some news to tell you all, and it took me by surprise when I discovered it. Firstly, I just want to say thank you to a wonderful person on this app for telling me (don't know if you would like a shout out or not, DM me if you do, but you know who you are), but without you, I would have never known, so thank you so much!! ❤❤

But onto the news, like I stated previously, a wonderful person sent me a post that someone had published a story here on Tumblr that was literally copied and pasted from my own story, "Lapdog," with a simple change of the characters, and some dialogue that contained Spanish was reverted to English. I never gave this person authorization to use my work, and they literally took complete ownership of it, even stating: "It took me 5 hours to make." When, in reality, "Lapdog" took me 2 days and even more to edit and write. 🤧😅

I was greatly upset when I saw this; honestly, I was shocked for a good while before getting advice from my sis, @powerful-niya, on how to handle this situation. I had completely forgotten that plagiarism and the stealing of one's work could even happen, so when this occurred, it really took me by surprise. 😔

What further hurt me was the sight of this person fully claiming my work as theirs. They received many asks and comments about how good "their" story was and when a part 2 would be posted, and they responded saying: "Hii!! So a ton of people have been asking me about a part 2, and I mentioned that I would think about making the part two." And this one really got to me: "So some wise words would be to stick around for a bit, to see if it gets uploaded or not, but don't take this as a definite yes, because I'm still not sure."

It literally sounded like they were waiting on my second part of Lapdog to be uploaded to simply steal that one as well. I held very conflicting emotions: hurt, anger, sadness, and possibly even a little fear. However, with the help of some great besties here on Tumblr and from home, I was able to get through it. Here's a shoutout to those wonderful individuals, and I'm so thankful for you, girlies. I really appreciate the support! ❤😊

@serpentineaerodynamics, @grumpypixistix, @powerful-niya, @luvrxbunny, @amariiyagurl

(Also, thank you once again to the person who initially told me about this; I'm extremely grateful!) ❤

Lastly, I didn't make this post to spread hate to this person; that's the last thing I want. I uploaded this to spread awareness of my situation and how wrong it is to steal someone's work, who've poured every ounce of themselves into it, to simply get attention. 😕

Despite having little to no time to write, I still try to do a small amount on the weekends or in my free time (which is rare), but I try even still because I really enjoy writing, particularly writing about Miguel. So, that's why this incident greatly hurt me.

It's why I'm also thankful that I was able to take care of it, as the post has been removed; but I just wanted to notify my followers and anyone from their page who was deceived about what happened and why "their" story was removed from their blog.

Thank you, and I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day/night. Do not spread hate and steal others' work; it'll only bring harm to yourself in the end. Love you all and stay safe! ❤🤓👋🏽

[turtletaubwrites]

Physical and mental health update below the cut. This one sucks. 😩 

It’s very heavy, so please only read it if you have the space for it. I’m so grateful to have such a wonderful group of people actually caring and interacting with me here, and I would hate to negatively affect any of you. I will not be offended if you skip it. Please do 🙏

(content/trigger warnings for: vent post, bipolar disorder, medications, side effects, depression, fear, mention of struggle with past ideations of not wanting to be here)

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THOSE WARNINGS MAY BE TRIGGERING, OR IF THEY ARE TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HOLD RIGHT NOW!!!

Lately I've been stuck in a depressive episode, mainly triggered by the continued work/financial shitstorm that got me put on medical leave back in November. (I haven't posted about the situation because I don't want y'all to send me money. Please donate instead! 🙏🏼)

But now I’ve got a new fucking thing. 

I had a shitty and potentially dangerous reaction to one of the medications I’ve been taking for 3 years. 

This is one of the medications that saved me from my lifelong extreme depressive episodes, and the occasional manic episodes that often ruined my life.

The physical issues it’s caused are awful, and are negatively impacting my daily life, so I should want to stop taking it.

But I’m scared.

I’ve tried so many similar medications, and had terrible side effects for each of them. 

Thankfully, I’ll still have Lithium, which is the only medication that ever got rid of my near daily suicidal ideations that plagued me since I was 13. 

But Lamictal combined with it finally helped me live a real life. Finally let me feel balanced, stable, able to enjoy things, able to fucking function. 

I’m really scared. I’m sorry for trauma dumping here so much, but I don’t have anyone who understands the depth of that darkness, the pain that just fucking existing used to cause me.

I don’t want to go back there. 

Thank you for reading my pain, I hope it doesn’t bring you down too. I’m going to try to remember that I’m not alone.

I'm going to try to hang onto this fulfilling hobby, and this supportive community for as long as I can. I know many of you have said that I can reach out, and I know you're right that there'd be people to talk to.

In fact, I got a message from one of you after my last bipolar update post weeks, maybe a couple months ago? I've been wanting to reply, and it means so much to me. Please know that I read every message, every comment, and it helps me, even if I don't have the spoons to respond.

I'll keep trying to try.

I don't want to go back down into that deep, dark hole.

~ Lynna 💜

[lunabug2004]

Why the Troy and Angela Situations Should Not Be Compared (+ Why Mike's Reaction Is Valid)

One of the things that gets my blood boiling as a Mike defender is when people try to compare the bullying/El's reaction to said bullying between the Troy and Angela scenes. They are not the same thing, not even close! Yes, they're both cases of bullying, but two very different levels of extreme.

Yes, I understand that words can hurt just as much, if not more, than a physical weapon, and Mike understands this too, that's why he tries to connect with El the morning after. But in the real world, one without monsters or powers, the one they believe they're living in at the time, violence is almost never the answer, it only makes things worse, as it did. Mike also understand this. Now, yes, it took him a minute to figure out that El didn't quite understand this yet, but he works to fix his mistakes as soon as he does.

Now, let's look at season 1's incident. Troy is threatening to cut Dustin with a knife if Mike doesn't jump off the quarry cliff. Two lives are in immediate and direct danger in this situation. El, literally at the last second, saves Mike as he's falling, so that's one problem fixed and one less life at stake. By this time, yes, Troy has moved away from Dustin, but he is still holding the knife! And then he aggressively steps towards El, threatening her with it, so she snaps his arm and makes him drop it. This is self defense, as well as defending her friends from a dangerous situation.

In season 4, Angela publicly humiliates El. Yes, it's awful, and yes, she deserves the smack that she gets for it, but it's nowhere near as bad as what Troy was doing. Angela isn't putting any lives in immediate danger, she's not brandishing a weapon! Legally, El smacking Angela is assault, because at the point of the roller-scate-smack, the ordeal is done with, and there was no physical harm done. I'd like to add that I'm aware of El falling, and that she may have been hurt, but technically no one touched her, so it still isn't technically self-defense (I may be wrong here, pls correct me if so). This is a very unfortunate situation, and I feel terrible for El, as should everyone, but I'm a firm believer that when it comes to bullies, you shouldn't fight fire with fire, and Mike seems to carry this belief as well, as he repeatedly tells the boys to just ignore their bullies in s1. @foodiewithdahoodie has an old post (can't find it irl, but it's stuck in my brain) in which they say El treats Angela, a normal girl who is not a serious threat, with the same extreme hostility she shows the UD monsters, and I completely agree with this. El is flawed, and Mike's not a bad person for reacting to those flaws, that just happen to include unnecessary violence, the way a normal person would.

Anyways, what I'm getting at here is that these two situations are completely different (again, Troy has a literal weapon, two peoples' lives were being actively threatened!) and Mike's reaction in both circumstances were completely valid! In season one, he was seconds away from death, and so when El saved him and made the threat go away, he was eternally grateful for her defense. In season 4, he tries so hard to get to her when he realizes what's going on despite having just found out she'd been lying to him for months, and he was even completely on El's side, trying to find and comfort her, until she hit Angela, then he believed she went too far (she did), so he made that known. He's never been one to sugarcoat when he disagrees with certain behaviors, and he doesn't start here, he tells it like it is: Angela doesn't look fine. It also is just a lot to process, so it doesn't surprise me that it takes an overnight thought-session for him to figure out where he went wrong, and again, he tries to make it up to her! To connect with her, bringing down some of his walls in the process! She just disregards his experiences, then brings up him not saying ILY, so he gets defensive and puts back up his walls, and they never get to continue this conversation! (This is an analysis for another day in and of itself tbh)

To reiterate, it just irks me when people compare these scenes to try and make Mike out to be a bad person, when they are nowhere near the same situation! His reactions being different makes total sense, esp when adding the shock-factor of it all! I'll stop talking now cuz this could go on forever and I lowkey feel like I'm just repeating myself now.

Pls tell me your thoughts on this!

[marisferasiop]

Two roads diverge in a forest...

Summary: Ezra is on your traveling crew. You get stranded after a crash; only you two are left. He is eerily calm, which grates on your fraying nerves. On your hike, you get the story out of him about how he lost his arm while you search a crashed ship for parts. He guides you into confronting a scary choice: stay here, and likely perish, or attempt to overtake a crew scouring the natives' camps for slaves to capture and sell, and steal their ship. What do you have to lose? And what choice can you live with?

Rating: PG for offscreen violence? Language?

Wordcount: 1400

For @perotovar 's frith challenge! Ezra is aligned with the god Tyr. Main attributes/values: integrity, choices and consequences, missing a limb/extremity, reasoning, and bravery (esp in battle).

AN: Hey I'm super anxious about this because of Expectations so here before I drive myself insane for 2 more weeks 🫣

The forest smells like age and decay, and you only sort of hate it.

“Tell me again, birdie,” your partner behind you sighs, before dropping his weight onto a fallen log with a grunt of exhaustion. You pause halfway up the embankment and glare down at his tired smile.

Why is he so insufferably sufferable? Fucking asshole.

“I’m going to kill you first if you don't get your ass up.” You wave your rail gun at his entire self, and lean against the mossy tree at your back.

Ezra huffs a laugh and nods. “I would not blame you. We’ve been marching for hours. Let's have a small respite. Tell me about your planet. What is waiting for you, back home?”

Begrudgingly, you stomp back down through the fallen leaves and rotting undergrowth to the fallen tree and plop next to him, kicking your sore feet out as far as you can reach to get your weight off them.

“Nothing. Not really. Deadbeat parents, an ex who’s probably still fucking my former best friend... I told you I came out here to get away from it.”

He nods sagely and leans back against a branch. It groans under his weight, but holds. “So why do you want to go back?”

“I don't,” you insist. “I just want to get off this fucking planet.”

Ezra hums and scratches his chin with his one hand. It draws your eyes to his pinned sleeve. “I have been marooned before, though through the catalyst of a mutiny, rather than a crash landing. My partner on that excursion was much less appealing than you, birdie. In both companionship and conversational aptitude. I too have nothing to return to. So who says we cannot sojourn here a while? This planet is not overpopulated, nor beholden to the capitalist overlords that plague so much of our galaxy. The food is – not exactly top tier, but it is simple to obtain. The water is drinkable. The air, non- toxic. The natives are not friendly, no. But they haven't bothered us.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Just because I don't want to get back to my shit life doesn't mean I want to stay in the fucking jungle, either.”

“Then I see two options, birdie. We endeavor to find and trade with the natives, if they have the parts we need to repair our vessel, or we follow that chemtrail,” he points up and traces a white line in the pink sky. “And if the folks who have that ship are not friendly, we overtake them.”

“We’ve already checked half a dozen other crashes, and nothing has been compatible. It would be incredible luck if the natives have the part we need, or if those beings on that ship are friendly.”

Ezra nods and pitches forward, balancing his elbow on his knee. “Overtaking, it is, then?”

“I don't see how the other option is valid. I doubt the natives will have usable parts if none of the ships so far have been a match to ours.”

After aoment of quiet thought, you stand and come in front of Ezra, holding a hand out. “C’mon old man. That chemtrail ain't gonna follow itself.” he takes your hand and lets you drag him to standing with a groan.

A while later, and after much inane (and breathless; you try to remember the mentioned puncture in his diaphragm and forcibly keep your pace slower to compensate) small talk, you finally bring it up again:

“So how’d you lose your arm? While you were marooned?”

Ezra snorts and nods, pausing on the ridge you’ve just mounted to catch his breath. “A bit of an exercise in trust, if you will. I chose to trust someone that others on my side would not have, and I lost my arm for it. But it was my choice to make, and therefore my consequence to bear.”

“So you made an ill- advised choice, and lost your damned hand. But you're cool with it? Sure,” you snark, slapping a plant frond out of the path. You hear him snort behind you and roll your eyes. You stop in your tracks and side-eye him. "Why am I taking your advice, then?"

Ezra huffs a winded laugh and pauses as well, happy for the break. “Every moment of our lives are filled with choices, birdie. And thus, consequences. Owning them makes all the difference.”

The spiraled end of the chemtrail looms closer in the yellowing sky, and after perhaps an hour of scaling a worn-low mountain, you can hear voices through the fauna.

“You got charges?” You ask, and Ezra tugs his rail gun from his belt, clicking it on. The whirring matches your own, and you both check pockets for more. Five double- charges between you, to split; a total of twelve shots between you. You pocket three of them and leave Ezra with one loaded and one in his pocket. He won't be able to switch them quickly; you'll have to cover him.

“Stay low and pick them off.” You peer through the foliage at the ground crew of perhaps six men, all carrying heavier weapons than you. A merc or trawling team, certainly. There are indigenous people tied to posts on one end of their small camp.

There is only one man you can see with a rail gun, staring out at the trees with a frown. The rest of them seem to be waiting around aimlessly, sitting around a low fire and talking while something cooks on the flames.

You quickly dispatch them, over and over as they scatter and shoot into the trees. Ezra kneels next to you, watching through his scope levels on a fallen log as you pick them off. When two men are left, hands raised and guns on the ground in surrender, you get up and go down the slope to the clearing.

“Hey what the fuck, lady!” One of them yells. You put your muzzle on his forehead and he clenches his jaw, glaring at you, and then Ezra, in turn. Ezra keeps his barrel trained on the other man, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man’s hand inches toward his belt. The rail gun zips loudly in the clearing, once, and the second man falls into the leaves, dead. Your prisoner flinches and grits his teeth, snarling wordlessly at you both.

“You can join your friends’ corpses as they rot here, or you can hitch a ride off this planet with us. Either way, your ship is ours, now.”

He relents, and you leave Ezra to watch him while you start digging in the pockets of the dead for the ship's starter. Finally, you go and cut the bindings off the huddled group of natives and watch them scatter. You hear a shout, and come back to find a dead body on the ground. Ezra shrugs at you and you nod, certain there was a decent enough reason. Regardless, the assholes were kidnapping people to sell, and you're not sorry they're dead. You say as much to Ezra as you clamber into the ship and prep it for flight, checking all sensors as you flip them. The ship starts right up, humming happily, and you take off.

You glance at him and then look out the skyport, noting how close the landing site of the other ship actually was to your own once you're in the air. “Would you do it again?” You ask, slamming the shields off and diverting full engine power to the thrusters until you break atmo.

Ezra looks at you, confounded, and his brow asks the question for him: do what, birdie?

“The choice you made. When you lost your arm. Would you make that choice again? If you knew the consequence?”

“Yes. I believe I would.”

“Why?”

He is quiet for a moment, watching through the window at the fast- disappearing planet. “Because it was the best choice at the time. And it was mine to make. No one forced me; not even the situation coerced my decision. It offered our enemy a moment of peace, and then a moment of retribution when my side betrayed them. And it was well-deserved retribution. So yes, birdie. I’d do it again.”

You nod, your fingers tightening around the steering shafts. “So would I. What we did down there. What I chose.”

Then it was the right choice, his sigh says, and he leans his head back, eyes closed, while your ship breaks atmo.