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freeleyenrashespeakstruth · 1 year

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By Kitty Werthmann

“I am a witness to history.

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so.

Hitler is welcomed to Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

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mostlysignssomeportents · 15 days

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Real innovation vs Silicon Valley nonsense

This is the LAST DAY to get my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

If there was any area where we needed a lot of "innovation," it's in climate tech. We've already blown through numerous points-of-no-return for a habitable Earth, and the pace is accelerating.

Silicon Valley claims to be the epicenter of American innovation, but what passes for innovation in Silicon Valley is some combination of nonsense, climate-wrecking tech, and climate-wrecking nonsense tech. Forget Jeff Hammerbacher's lament about "the best minds of my generation thinking about how to make people click ads." Today's best-paid, best-trained technologists are enlisted to making boobytrapped IoT gadgets:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/24/record-scratch/#autoenshittification

Planet-destroying cryptocurrency scams:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/15/your-new-first-name/#that-dagger-tho

NFT frauds:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/06/crypto-copyright-%f0%9f%a4%a1%f0%9f%92%a9/

Or planet-destroying AI frauds:

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

If that was the best "innovation" the human race had to offer, we'd be fucking doomed.

But – as Ryan Cooper writes for The American Prospect – there's a far more dynamic, consequential, useful and exciting innovation revolution underway, thanks to muscular public spending on climate tech:

https://prospect.org/environment/2024-05-30-green-energy-revolution-real-innovation/

The green energy revolution – funded by the Bipartisan Infrastructure Act, the Inflation Reduction Act, the CHIPS Act and the Science Act – is accomplishing amazing feats, which are barely registering amid the clamor of AI nonsense and other hype. I did an interview a while ago about my climate novel The Lost Cause and the interviewer wanted to know what role AI would play in resolving the climate emergency. I was momentarily speechless, then I said, "Well, I guess maybe all the energy used to train and operate models could make it much worse? What role do you think it could play?" The interviewer had no answer.

Here's brief tour of the revolution:

2023 saw 32GW of new solar energy come online in the USA (up 50% from 2022);

Wind increased from 118GW to 141GW;

Grid-scale batteries doubled in 2023 and will double again in 2024;

EV sales increased from 20,000 to 90,000/month.

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/blog/2023/12/19/building-a-thriving-clean-energy-economy-in-2023-and-beyond/

The cost of clean energy is plummeting, and that's triggering other areas of innovation, like using "hot rocks" to replace fossil fuel heat (25% of overall US energy consumption):

https://rondo.com/products

Increasing our access to cheap, clean energy will require a lot of materials, and material production is very carbon intensive. Luckily, the existing supply of cheap, clean energy is fueling "green steel" production experiments:

https://www.wdam.com/2024/03/25/americas-1st-green-steel-plant-coming-perry-county-1b-federal-investment/

Cheap, clean energy also makes it possible to recover valuable minerals from aluminum production tailings, a process that doubles as site-remediation:

https://interestingengineering.com/innovation/toxic-red-mud-co2-free-iron

And while all this electrification is going to require grid upgrades, there's lots we can do with our existing grid, like power-line automation that increases capacity by 40%:

https://www.npr.org/2023/08/13/1187620367/power-grid-enhancing-technologies-climate-change

It's also going to require a lot of storage, which is why it's so exciting that we're figuring out how to turn decommissioned mines into giant batteries. During the day, excess renewable energy is channeled into raising rock-laden platforms to the top of the mine-shafts, and at night, these unspool, releasing energy that's fed into the high-availability power-lines that are already present at every mine-site:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/02/06/this-disused-mine-in-finland-is-being-turned-into-a-gravity-battery-to-store-renewable-ene

Why are we paying so much attention to Silicon Valley pump-and-dumps and ignoring all this incredible, potentially planet-saving, real innovation? Cooper cites a plausible explanation from the Apperceptive newsletter:

https://buttondown.email/apperceptive/archive/destructive-investing-and-the-siren-song-of/

Silicon Valley is the land of low-capital, low-labor growth. Software development requires fewer people than infrastructure and hard goods manufacturing, both to get started and to run as an ongoing operation. Silicon Valley is the place where you get rich without creating jobs. It's run by investors who hate the idea of paying people. That's why AI is so exciting for Silicon Valley types: it lets them fantasize about making humans obsolete. A company without employees is a company without labor issues, without messy co-determination fights, without any moral consideration for others. It's the natural progression for an industry that started by misclassifying the workers in its buildings as "contractors," and then graduated to pretending that millions of workers were actually "independent small businesses."

It's also the natural next step for an industry that hates workers so much that it will pretend that their work is being done by robots, and then outsource the labor itself to distant Indian call-centers (no wonder Indian techies joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians"):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/17/fake-it-until-you-dont-make-it/#twenty-one-seconds

Contrast this with climate tech: this is a profoundly physical kind of technology. It is labor intensive. It is skilled. The workers who perform it have power, both because they are so far from their employers' direct oversight and because these fed-funded sectors are more likely to be unionized than Silicon Valley shops. Moreover, climate tech is capital intensive. All of those workers are out there moving stuff around: solar panels, wires, batteries.

Climate tech is infrastructural. As Deb Chachra writes in her must-read 2023 book How Infrastructure Works, infrastructure is a gift we give to our descendants. Infrastructure projects rarely pay for themselves during the lives of the people who decide to build them:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/17/care-work/#charismatic-megaprojects

Climate tech also produces gigantic, diffused, uncapturable benefits. The "social cost of carbon" is a measure that seeks to capture how much we all pay as polluters despoil our shared world. It includes the direct health impacts of burning fossil fuels, and the indirect costs of wildfires and extreme weather events. The "social savings" of climate tech are massive:

https://arstechnica.com/science/2024/05/climate-and-health-benefits-of-wind-and-solar-dwarf-all-subsidies/

For every MWh of renewable power produced, we save $100 in social carbon costs. That's $100 worth of people not sickening and dying from pollution, $100 worth of homes and habitats not burning down or disappearing under floodwaters. All told, US renewables have delivered $250,000,000,000 (one quarter of one trillion dollars) in social carbon savings over the past four years:

https://arstechnica.com/science/2024/05/climate-and-health-benefits-of-wind-and-solar-dwarf-all-subsidies/

In other words, climate tech is unselfish tech. It's a gift to the future and to the broad public. It shares its spoils with workers. It requires public action. By contrast, Silicon Valley is greedy tech that is relentlessly focused on the shortest-term returns that can be extracted with the least share going to labor. It also requires massive public investment, but it also totally committed to giving as little back to the public as is possible.

No wonder America's richest and most powerful people are lining up to endorse and fund Trump:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-05-30-democracy-deshmocracy-mega-financiers-flocking-to-trump/

Silicon Valley epitomizes Stafford Beer's motto that "the purpose of a system is what it does." If Silicon Valley produces nothing but planet-wrecking nonsense, grifty scams, and planet-wrecking, nonsensical scams, then these are all features of the tech sector, not bugs.

As Anil Dash writes:

Driving change requires us to make the machine want something else. If the purpose of a system is what it does, and we don’t like what it does, then we have to change the system.

https://www.anildash.com/2024/05/29/systems-the-purpose-of-a-system/

To give climate tech the attention, excitement, and political will it deserves, we need to recalibrate our understanding of the world. We need to have object permanence. We need to remember just how few people were actually using cryptocurrency during the bubble and apply that understanding to AI hype. Only 2% of Britons surveyed in a recent study use AI tools:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c511x4g7x7jo

If we want our tech companies to do good, we have to understand that their ground state is to create planet-wrecking nonsense, grifty scams, and planet-wrecking, nonsensical scams. We need to make these companies small enough to fail, small enough to jail, and small enough to care:

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

We need to hold companies responsible, and we need to change the microeconomics of the board room, to make it easier for tech workers who want to do good to shout down the scammers, nonsense-peddlers and grifters:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Yesterday, a federal judge ruled that the FTC could hold Amazon executives personally liable for the decision to trick people into signing up for Prime, and for making the unsubscribe-from-Prime process into a Kafka-as-a-service nightmare:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/05/amazon-execs-may-be-personally-liable-for-tricking-users-into-prime-sign-ups/

Imagine how powerful a precedent this could set. The Amazon employees who vociferously objected to their bosses' decision to make Prime as confusing as possible could have raised the objection that doing this could end up personally costing those bosses millions of dollars in fines:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

We need to make climate tech, not Big Tech, the center of our scrutiny and will. The climate emergency is so terrifying as to be nearly unponderable. Science fiction writers are increasingly being called upon to try to frame this incomprehensible risk in human terms. SF writer (and biologist) Peter Watts's conversation with evolutionary biologist Dan Brooks is an eye-opener:

https://thereader.mitpress.mit.edu/the-collapse-is-coming-will-humanity-adapt/

They draw a distinction between "sustainability" meaning "what kind of technological fixes can we come up with that will allow us to continue to do business as usual without paying a penalty for it?" and sustainability meaning, "what changes in behavior will allow us to save ourselves with the technology that is possible?"

Writing about the Watts/Brooks dialog for Naked Capitalism, Yves Smith invokes William Gibson's The Peripheral:

With everything stumbling deeper into a ditch of shit, history itself become a slaughterhouse, science had started popping. Not all at once, no one big heroic thing, but there were cleaner, cheaper energy sources, more effective ways to get carbon out of the air, new drugs that did what antibiotics had done before…. Ways to print food that required much less in the way of actual food to begin with. So everything, however deeply fucked in general, was lit increasingly by the new, by things that made people blink and sit up, but then the rest of it would just go on, deeper into the ditch. A progress accompanied by constant violence, he said, by sufferings unimaginable.

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2024/05/preparing-for-collapse-why-the-focus-on-climate-energy-sustainability-is-destructive.html

Gibson doesn't think this is likely, mind, and even if it's attainable, it will come amidst "unimaginable suffering."

But the universe of possible technologies is quite large. As Chachra points out in How Infrastructure Works, we could give every person on Earth a Canadian's energy budget (like an American's, but colder), by capturing a mere 0.4% of the solar radiation that reaches the Earth's surface every day. Doing this will require heroic amounts of material and labor, especially if we're going to do it without destroying the planet through material extraction and manufacturing.

These are the questions that we should be concerning ourselves with: what behavioral changes will allow us to realize cheap, abundant, green energy? What "innovations" will our society need to focus on the things we need, rather than the scams and nonsense that creates Silicon Valley fortunes?

How can we use planning, and solidarity, and codetermination to usher in the kind of tech that makes it possible for us to get through the climate bottleneck with as little death and destruction as possible? How can we use enforcement, discernment, and labor rights to thwart the enshittificatory impulses of Silicon Valley's biggest assholes?

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/30/posiwid/#social-cost-of-carbon

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pengweng-quack · 3 months

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Bloodbound

Carlisle Cullen x Human!OC

Summary: Place Carlisle in the Edward situation of falling in love with a human, and see what happens

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Notes:

The only thing that took so long about this is the title because fuck titles (genuinely)

This is on Ao3 under the same title and username if you'd like to read it there (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54527830)

Probably would be my last (long) twilight post in a while since I've lost interest in the series for a while (give it like 3 weeks before I regain it lmao)

Posting (just like before) is random lol, hope you guys enjoy this story

Much much longer than Being a Witch with Vampires by the way, so we're in a long ride (or you are, because I already know the story)

Word Count: 2294 words

General warning: I used some religious references in this story so read with caution if you're not so keen into reading that

TW for this chapter: None

PM or Comment to be added on the taglist for this one!

Masterlist

A full year had passed since the Cullens returned to Forks, now acting as grownups instead of some teenager studying in Forks high school, minus Renesmee, to her dismay. Carlisle received a warm welcome back to the hospital, where he encountered new faces introduced to him since his departure.

“Good morning Doctor Cullen.” A nurse with red hair greeted politely to him, he was around his height and had brown eyes, a face that he doesn’t remember during his time there

“I’m nurse Sean, not the chief nurse but I think Eunice is getting her out now.” Sean informed him “You’ll like her I think, she’s professional as fuck.”

A girl with her chestnut hair tied up in a bun walked out of a room. At that moment, all Carlisle could think about was how captivating the woman was, everything about her screamed authority, he knew then and there that she was the chief nurse.

Time felt like it slowed down when they locked eyes, this woman has plagued over his mind. Carlisle subtly admired her face, she had eyes that matched the shade of her hair and pale pink lips that complimented her fair complexions.

“Celine Wright, chief nurse here.” Celine introduced herself with a prim and proper tone. She offered her hand in a handshake and Carlisle accepted it, feeling the warmth of her hand against the coldness of his

“Carlisle Cullen, former chief doctor here.” Carlisle introduced back, pulling his hand away from the handshake “Pleasure to meet you.”

From the stories that Carlisle has heard, Celine was 25 years old when she assumed the position and has demonstrated remarkable competence, excelling in her role for a year prior his return with unparalleled precision and skill.

But it was distracting him, she was distracting him. Despite her undeniable competence, it was her blood that proved to be the real challenge for Carlisle. The tantalizing scent of it often left Carlisle struggling to focus, forcing him to endure long stretches without breathing just to filter out the temptation.

But even after leaving work, her scent lingered in his mind, infiltrating every aspect of his life. Something as harmless as a report file with a hint of her scent could drive him to the brink of madness.

It’s been a year since Carlisle has been working with Celine, a year of extreme caution over his thirst. He was always making sure that he was fed before going to the hospital, making sure that there was always some distance between them. However, as the chief nurse, their interactions were inevitable, presenting a constant challenge to Carlisle's restraint.

It also didn’t help that Celine’s kind and caring nature was growing on him in ways that he didn’t expect that it’ll do so. Her smile became a source of motivation for him, brightening his day with a single glance. He found himself instinctively seeking her out upon arriving at work, drawn to her presence like a magnet.

Celine was growing on him, as a person, as a friend, as someone that he wishes he could pursue openly.

“She’s your blood singer and mate.” Edward concluded, having experienced a similar scenario before “You’re dealing with what I’ve dealt with when Bella was still human.”

“Great,” Rosalie scoffed, crossing her arm “Another human.”

“Carlisle won’t pressure her into something that she doesn’t want to partake herself in.” Esme assured everyone

“We would never know if he doesn’t pursue her.” Alice said, holding on from having another vision whether Celine Wright was in their future or not

“Would we rob Carlisle a chance to finally be with his mate?” Edward argued to Rosalie

“Would you rob another girl’s humanity for an uncertainty?” Rosalie asked him back; the tension was growing between the two

“Enough with the arguing.” Carlisle said, a decision set in his head

“I’ve figured out that she’s my mate. But I will not pressure her into anything.” He stated at once to everyone that was listening to him “Nor will I pursue her whatsoever. Let the future play how it has planned to be. Alice, Edward, no attempting to manipulate it to one of your visions.”

Just in time, his alarm has rung, notifying him that he has a shift to get ready for. He bids his goodbye, going to his office to get ready.

He was painfully slow, questioning whether his choice was the right one, plagued by uncertainty and the fear of denying himself a chance at happiness.

But underneath his own desires was the concern for Celine's well-being. He couldn't bear the thought of forcing her into a life she didn't want, no matter how difficult it was for him to accept the possibility of letting her go.

“Are you sure of your decision?” Esme asked him, walking into his office “Do you really want to just give up like that already?”

“She deserves a long, happy life.” Carlisle spoke softly, grabbing his briefcase with all the reports that he’s brought home “Not be damned for eternity.”

“And if she asks for a long, happy life with you, then what?” Esme asked him, making Carlisle ponder at her question. She was right, what certainty did he have that Celine wouldn’t welcome this life?

‘The risk is too high.’ He thought to himself

He left without answering her question.

It was another late-night shift that Celine accepted. Having heard another alibi from one of her co-nurses. Lying and saying that “they have some important matters to deal with,” only to see them by the bar as she drives by, drunk beyond their capabilities.

‘I have nothing to do anyways, so why not just earn more so I could leave this shitty town.’ She always used that to convince herself

In all honesty, Celine's financial status was not a factor in her decision. She had inherited a comfortable sum from when her parents died, ensuring that she was shielded from any financial struggles. But she’s heard that Doctor Cullen always took a night shift, working perfectly for their family’s set up of needing someone to be at home at all times.

What’s wrong if she was to indulge herself and the tiny crush that she had for him? After all, he wasn't married, a fact his hand had subtly conveyed to her.

“Nurse Celine, good to see you…again.” Carlisle greeted, walking in her office (which technically, is his office too) with a disposable cup of coffee “I thought your shift was over?”

“Yeah, Nurse Alex had to bail, said something along the lines of dealing with some personal stuff.” Celine answered “Made sure to give him the morning shift though, just as some sort of revenge.”

“I do not condone that behavior, but frankly, I would say that you deserve the rest.” Carlisle said, sitting next to her. It was dangerous, he knew. But he didn’t want to leave her alone.

“It’s a slow night.” Celine reported “Just one rush to the E.R. thinking that they were dying because of some spots they saw on their face. After doing some checking on it, it was just some questionably large pimples. Scary? Yes. But not fatal.”

“At least it has been slow so you won’t tire yourself too much.” Carlisle said, pushing the coffee near her

“Why don’t you just say to your sister that you don’t actually enjoy the coffee she makes? It just feels like a waste, giving away your coffee every time.” Celine asked, accepting the cup and drinking it

Carlisle was asked by Celine one time why he wasn’t drinking the coffee that he had, noticing that the cup was left untouched until he throws it away just after his shift. In panic, he fabricated a story, claiming that his sister Esme, who worked night shifts at her own job, often made coffee for herself and would give the extras to him.

He had offered it to her then, hoping that the coffee Esme made because she has missed the aroma of coffee was in Celine’s taste. Celine didn’t answer that time if she had enjoyed the coffee or not, but every time he would offer her the coffee, she would accept it.

This silent acceptance fueled Carlisle's hope that perhaps, in some small way, they were connecting through these shared moments over coffee.

From then, he asked Esme about the recipe and continued to make it from the comfort of his car before he walked in the hospital, using the coffee as a conversation starter, a way to engage with her, hoping to deepen their connection through these small interactions.

“You enjoy it.” Carlisle answered almost immediately. Celine looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion

“I mean, she always makes it at night for her work. Offers some to me, even though I don’t drink coffee, I’m just too shy to not accept it. And besides, you deserve some coffee yourself too.” Carlisle explained further, giving Celine the satisfaction of getting an answer

“Thanks. I owe you one.” Celine said, lifting the coffee and drinking some more of it “How do you even get the energy to do night shifts? Ever since you got here, you’ve like made it your thing to be the one for night shifts.”

“I sleep in the morning.” Carlisle answered, having prepared an alibi for when that question inevitably gets asked to him “Did kind of take a toll on my social life though, I’ll tell you. But I have accepted this way when I decided to step into the field of medicine.”

“Really?” Celine asked, piqued with how he was opening up “Why prefer night shift then? You could easily be transferred to morning shift if you’d just ask.”

“I prefer it this way.” Carlisle answered, Celine pondered if someone has asked him this question before “Besides, who will give you your daily coffee if I don’t join you with the night shifts?”

“I can get myself coffee, thank you very much.” Celine answered, fake insult in her tone and playfully rolling her eyes at him

“I know you can, I do enjoy it just as much to be the one to give you your coffees.” Carlisle said, a smile on his face

‘He looked like a Ken doll.’ She thought, looking at Carlisle and admiring his seemingly perfect features. His eyes was shining golden, a shade she never thought was possible for a human to have. The pale pink tint of his lips stirred a fleeting curiosity about their softness, though she quickly brushed aside any thoughts of how they might feel against her own.

“Some of the nurses are getting jealous, you should give them coffee sometimes.” Celine teased him. Carlisle looked at her, his eyebrows raised at her teasing. He did not want to give anyone else some sort of affection.

His undead heart was with hers before she even knew it.

“That’s if they’ll like 5 teaspoons of sugar and 3 teaspoons of creamer in their coffee.” Carlisle teased her back, watching as she finishes the coffee that he has prepared

“Well, anything that you would give to them, they’ll accept really.” She answered, before going back to reading some reports that the morning shift nurses has prepared for them

The night was long, the comforting silence joining them as they read through. Fortunately, there were no urgent emergencies demanding their attention. It wasn’t until Carlisle heard Celine stifle a yawn that made him check his watch, the small screen showing 8:17 AM.

“Shift over.” Carlisle announced, standing up and faking a stretch

He could have stayed there forever had she been able to do the same.

“Finally.” Celine mumbled, the aftermath of the coffee finally taking a toll on her as she slumps herself on the seat that she’s been on for the past 12 hours “So tired.”

“Need a ride home?” Carlisle asked, seeing that she wasn’t awake enough to go home on her own

Despite his declaration not to pursue Celine, Carlisle found himself engaging in behaviors that seemed to contradict his words. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was unintentionally leading her on, even though she hadn't explicitly expressed interest in him, neither through her words nor her body language.

“I’m fine, brought my car with me.” Celine murmured; her eyes closed as she rests her head on the chair “Just need a few minutes to close my eyes.”

“Okay then.” Carlisle answered, sitting down on the chair where he was sitting earlier, grabbing a bit more reports to read as he accompanies her

The few minutes became an hour. Then the hour became two hours. Carlisle then slowly realized that Celine was beginning to doze off in the chair she was sitting in. He looked at her with a small smile on his face.

He didn’t need to be a vampire or a doctor to know that she was in an uncomfortable position. Her whole torso was slouched down and her head was down, giving the look that she was uncomfortably bowing.

Carlisle moved his seat closer to hers, feeling the warmth of her arm against the coldness of his. With tender care, he lifted her head, cradling it on his shoulder. Though not as plush as a pillow, he knew it would be far more comfortable than where her head had previously rested.

As he sat there, Carlisle gazed at Celine, closing his eyes and synchronizing his faux breathing with hers, attuned to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Carlisle knew that it was temptation, being this close to her. And a sin to indulge himself in such temptation. But if he was to be damned today, he would be happy to have indulged himself with the existence of Celine.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Dirty Work 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: last night I finished my paper... mostly. Need to format and cite.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at your hand, then Mr. Laufeyson’s. In contrast, his seems so big. Emblematic of the hold he has on your life. The power you can’t resist. Even if you want to. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know if you’d ever known. You only ever did what you thought was right.

He lets you slip your hand free and you turn it over, looking down at your palm. You trace a line as you feel him watching you. He wants you to speak but what can you say? You’re confused and scared and so, so tired.

“Pet, was I not clear?” He wonders, the gentle lilt frightens you more than his deep commanding timbre.

You think he was. You think you know what he wants. Just like your father accused you. Well, what else are you worth? Not just to him but anyone.

“Can…” your mouth is dry, your eyes are itchy, your head is pulsing, and your body feels hollow. “Can I think about it?”

“Think?” He echoes, “what– how long?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer thinly, sinking back into the pillows, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel very well.”

“Dizzy?” He repeats you again. He hums and clasps his hand around his knee, “when’s the last you’ve eaten?”

You shyly glance up. You slant your lips and shrug. You’re uncertain. Does he really care? It hardly matters. You can’t recall when your dad ever bothered about you being fed or happy. Even if it’s pretend, it’s better than before.

“Yesterday, I think,” you twine your fingers together, “last night…”

“Yes, last night was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He tuts, “what about breakfast?”

“I had some tea,” you offer. “I’m not very hungry, just sleepy.”

“You need to eat then, you can’t think on an empty stomach surely,” he insists as he stands, “I’ll fetch a plate.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself to the edge of the bed but he’s quick to stop you, catching your shoulder as he nudges you into the pillows.

“No, no, let me show you,” he squeezes then reluctantly rescinds his touch, “I said I would give you anything, yes? Whatever you wish or need. Let me show you that I can and you may better make your decision.”

“It’s really not–” you try to argue but don’t have the energy. Really, you’re too perplexed to come up with any protest. He’s being strangely… nice.

“I mean it, stay,” he orders as he shows his palms, “I won’t be long.”

You just nod. He spins on his heels and marches out. You scrunch up your lips and glance towards the window. It’s later than you thought. The window is dark and the moon shines down in a sliver.

What would it be like to have someone take care of you? Is that what Mr. Laufeyson means? You’re not that stupid. Inexperienced, yes, but he has been blunt. You know what he wants from you but you’re not sure you can offer it.

Clothes? Jewellry? Shiny things? All those things mean nothing. He can’t give you what you truly want but no one can. And he’s right about everything else. You have no home and whatever he did can’t have made your dad any less angry than he already was.

You close your eyes and exhale. No isn’t an option. It might knot in your chest and tickle your tongue but you’re not sure you can’t utter it. What is the alternative? You’re at the tipping point. Without a job, you can’t afford that hotel bed. Even with one, you’re not sure you can swing it. And there’s all the other expenses; all the things you need and don’t have.

Your head is ready to split in two. You could never be ready for this. You never saw it coming to this. You in Mr. Laufeyson’s bed, weighing your entire life in your hands.

Your eyes roll open as you hear him. The scent of the food precedes him and your stomach rumbles loudly. His brows rise in response as he enters. He has a plate in one hand and a wooden board under the other. He nears and sets the dish on the night table, unfolding the legs of the lap table.

He places it over your legs and moves the plate on top of it. He’s careful not to lose the cutlery in the process. It’s some of the food Frigga left, but not a dish you helped with. Salmon, rice, and a colourful medley of vegetables.

“Something to drink?” He offers.

“Um…” you look at the plate then furrow your brow at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. What would you like?”

You blink. This is strange. It should be you asking him. It should be you running around. It’s backwards. All of it.

“Water is fine.”

“Hm, yes, water, I shall return,” he declares and once more pivots on his heel.

You focus on the food as he goes. You poke the long grains of rice, then a baby carrot. You push it all around before you dare to take a bite. It’s good, very good. Better than boxed macaroni and canned soups.

Mr. Laufeyson appears again. He has a tall glass, weeping with condensation as a lemon floats on top. He sets it on the night table, sure to slip a marble coaster down first. You taste the food intensely, pushing your tongue around as he backs up. He hovers just before the foot of the bed.

You continue to eat. Tediously so. Little bites as you delay the inevitable. He won’t allow you much longer than it takes to clear the plate to give your answer and you’re filling up fast. You still the fork and swallow. You rest the silver on the ceramic rim and take a sip of water. The cold flow gives a small kick.

“What did you do to him?” You ask, voice trembling even as you fight to control it.

He tilts his head and a line ripples above his brows. He cheek dimples as he grips one hip, “whatever do you think I did to the sickly old brute?”

You frown and he puts his head straight. He drops his hand and flutters his fingers. He huffs and paces around the end of the bed, then back again.

“I only gave him a fright,” he grumbles, almost bashfully, “I am somewhat above assaulting an elderly man.”

You stare, not saying a word.

“What? I am,” he snaps, “I only told him to keep his hands to himself. In more words than that.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You want to only because you wouldn’t want to be the reason your dad gets hurt. Even if he’s the reason you are.

“Promise?” You ask.

He clasps his hands together behind his back, “sure. Yes, I swear that I didn’t touch him, right? Just a bit of ominous implication.”

You run your finger along the edge of the plate.

“Tell me you’re not lying, please?”

He’s quiet. He huffs again and taps his toe.

“Why do you care so much? He doesn’t care for you.”

“Just…” you are wilting, you feel your strength dwindling. “Tell me the truth and I’ll say yes.”

He shifts to sit on the bed, just by your legs. He looks at you in the face. You meet his gaze and he doesn’t flinch, “I did not assault him, though it crossed my mind. He had that tube under his nose and wouldn’t stop coughing. It hardly seemed a fair contest. I merely warned him that the next time, I wouldn’t restrain myself.”

“Next time?” You murmur.

“Which there won’t be,” he assures, “because I told the truth, so that is…”

He waits and points at you. You turn your head away. You believe him.

“Yes,” you mutter. “I accept, Mr. Laufeyson…” You bat away another singe of tears, the voice in your head whispering what you won’t say aloud, ‘you win’.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson clears away the dishes and folds up the small table. He leaves you for a time, stirring on the lower level as you listen cautiously. You feel a little better but your eyes are still puffy from crying and your head still has a dull tick.

You slowly stand, careful not to cause your head to ring, and move around the bed. You slip into the hallway and into the study. Inside, you near the desk and lift the bag onto the chair. You search within until you find your phone, the mostly neglected flip.

You open it and stare at the keypad. You want to call your dad and make sure he’s okay but you know you shouldn’t. You can’t. He wouldn’t answer either way. You know that. The more you think of what he did, the worse it is. Why hadn’t you realised before? There was no way to ever go back home.

“Pet?” Mr. Laufeyson startles you and you shove away the phone. You face him and lean on the corner of the desk. “I made some tea… it’s much too late for work.”

“I know, I…” you still aren’t used to this. It’s so unusual. Mr. Laufeyson’s isn’t a place of leisure or carelessness, it’s for work. “...was checking the time.”

“Late, yes,” he affirms, “chamomile, my mother left some behind.” He raises the steaming mug, “you should lay down.”

“Mmm, yeah, I…” you look away. It’s not so different as it was, is it? You’re still supposed to obey him. He might be gentler but he isn’t asking.

“Would you like a book to read? You may peruse to your pleasure,” he offers and crosses to you, close as he puts the cup on the desk, “I might have a few you may enjoy. Are you fan of Shelley?”

He takes your wrist before you can react. He leads you to the shelf near the middle of the wall as you blink and peek up at him. This is strange. You’ve never seen him like this. Almost excited, as much as he has ever been.

“Poe, of course, I’ve some Lovecraft but I find him repetitive,” he goes on, “perhaps this isn’t an evening for horror.” He’s thinking aloud, “I might have an Austen or two that you may handle. The first editions, I’m afraid, cannot be touched.” He hums as he lets you go and hovers his fingers over the row, “Mansfield Park… hm?”

He looks at you and you shake your head. You don’t know. You read the same books you read as a kid. The Secret Garden, The Little Princess, and that illustrated version of The Hobbit, the one your dad used to…

“Maybe tomorrow,” you offer, “my head hurts.”

“Fair,” he agrees, “as I said, you should lay down.”

“I know,” you murmur and back away, “I’m just… restless.”

“So drink your tea.”

“Thanks,” you return to the desk and lift the mug, blowing over it as the steam continues to furl above it, “I will.”

“In bed,” he insists.

“I wouldn’t want to spill it–”

“Well certainly you can’t have it near the books,” he reproaches, “so come.”

That’s a command. His tone hardens and you recognise him again. Oh yes, things aren’t so different after all. He’s still in charge.

You nod and do as he says. You carry the tea into the hallway but hesitate at the threshold. Can’t you just go downstairs? No, you’re tired. You continue to the bedroom and place the mug on the same coaster where he’d put the water earlier.

You fold your hands nervously and back away. You approach the window and look out onto the estate. You remember the night you rushed over here, when he’d triggered that alarm. The way he’d been so undone, how he’d grabbed you and babbled those senseless words.

He moves behind you, shifting open drawers, and shuffling around. He doesn’t say a word as your vision blurs the shadows to a sea of uncertainty. The world is distant as you struggle to believe in it. It still feels like a horrible nightmare.

“Pet,” he slithers as he comes up behind you. You flinch as he rests his hands on your shoulders, standing almost flush to you, “your tea grows cold.”

You nod and sidle away from him. He relents, a hand dragging down your arm as he sighs. He watches as you go to claim the porcelain cup. You sit on the edge of the bed and sip. It’s pleasant, not stale like the old tea bags in your own cupboard. Well, that’s not yours anymore.

You wiggle your nose, ready to cry again. It’s like your morning yourself. The old you is dead yet very much sitting there, just as powerless as ever.

“Thank you,” you say as you cradle the cup against your hand, absorbing the heat until it hurts.

“I’ve found some clothing you can sleep in,” he nears and pulls the folded fabric across the bed. A plain button-up and a pair of cotton shorts. “I’m afraid I’m not furnished for you just yet. Tomorrow we will rectify that.”

You thank him again and drown your nerves in the yellow tea. As much as your eyelids tug and your shoulders slump, as heavy as you feel, you’re not sure you will sleep through the churning in your chest. You twitch as he brushes a finger against your cheek and your sight narrows on him.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He caresses down to your chin and tilts it up. He considers you. You feel him appraising you, his eyes drifting away from your face. For a moment, his grip on you firms and his hand slides back so the crook of thumb and index frame your throat. You gulp as he bends over you. He presses a kiss on your forehead, lingering as he inhales your scent.

“Patience,” he mutters as he parts, though you don’t know if he girds you or himself.

He draws away and fixes his posting, rolling his shoulders as he turns sharply. He goes back to the dresser and focuses on the contents of the top drawer. He clucks as he snatches out garments.

“I suppose I should dress for bed too,” he drones flatly, “no doubt…” He snaps the drawer shut, “a long night.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #maid au #au #thor #mcu #marvel #avengers

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colie-nne · 1 year

Text

first moments drive to survive | se4 r.2022

pairings: formula 1 grid x fem driver!oc

warnings: a bit of swearing | This is quite a long one

a/n: lines in bold and italics are the lines of journalists or the show’s narrator, and indents are radio moments or interview clips.

Ep1 : Clash of The Titans

Four rookies entering Formula 1 this year.

Valentina who was sitting in her team’s uniform waves to the camera. It was cut short when it shows Yuki with his clapper. “My name is Yuki Tsunoda.” Haas’ Mick, “Mick Schumacher” and Nikita, “Nikita Mazepin, Haas Formula 1 Team” It then cuts to Val just staring, “Is it rolling?” she inquires after the prolonged silence. The crew laughs before beckoning her to introduce herself, “Yeah, go on” She clears her throat, “Hi, I’m Valentina Corbyn and I drive for Alfa Romeo.” Closing the clapper board a little bit too hard as she visibly flinches, “Oh!” The people behind the cameras laugh before it cuts to a different set-up.

Pictorial on the track

7:21

“Eye contact with the cameras,” the photographer calls out to get every drivers’ attention. The video however zoom in on Valentina who was leaning on the car.

Spotting the camera she tries to send a disapproving look, pointing to the camera man as she shakes her head. The camera shakes in response.

7:34

There’s a lot of male pride and ego flying around… Val’s laugh is the first thing heard, “and I’m here to balance it!!” Exaggerating her actions as she points to herself. "Ooo, I just gave myself an ick, with what I've done there."

7:58

Showing a thumbs up, “You guys are good. Everyone’s all good,” the photographer ends their session as he walks away.

In the background, however, the well-known chaotic pair are at it again. This time Lando is seen fist-bumping her, walking side by side back to the garage. Val stopped in her tracks after he whispered something to her, and her expression showed faint shock at whatever that was. She completely faces him before playfully hitting his abdomen.

The action pushed Lando back and bumped into Carlos, who was behind them. Like a fed-up older brother, he just shakes his head and wraps an arm around Val’s shoulder, urging her to rush forward.

BAHRAIN Are you happy? Her look of confusion’s evident on her face, “Like the with the results of the race?” She makes sure with the person interviewing her. In which she gets an approving nod on her end. “From starting in 9th then to p5? Of course, very. It isn’t what we expected for my first race but it’s something that I’m happy this early on” Do you plan on placing higher? Quirking up a brow, “Yeah, I hope so. No driver is ever satisfied in their position unless they’re at the top. But I’ll take my time before I show the world more of what I got… at least, that’s what Kimi told me.” Val finishes with a refreshing smile directed at the camera.

Ep 2: Ace in the Hole aka a look into Lando and Val’s friendship

5:25

Lando and Valentina’s friendship started way back before their karting days. This year despite being rivals on the track, you can say that they’re quite the opposite off-track, in some way or another.

Panning the view to Val, hiding in the shade, she scrunches her face as she looks at Lando, about to swing the golf club for the nth time that day. Max, a mutual friend of theirs, motions her to come closer.

Pushing herself off the cart, Lando takes his chance to swing. After taking a couple steps closer, a groan erupts from him, earning him a chuckle from his friends.

“That’s quite a bad hit right there, innit?” Val teases him as soon as she’s stood next to Max.

Moving to get his turn, Max agrees with her while getting in position, “Yeah, you’ve had a shocker there, mate.”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Lando grumbles before jokingly kicking some dirt towards Val’s direction, causing her to shriek in displeasure.

6:14

Walking back near the cart, Max brings up Lando’s new teammate, Daniel Ricciardo. “So how are you feeling about Danny Ric this season, mate?… Confident?” Val, who is seen sitting on the grass, turned to look at Lando's expression.

Shrugging, “He’s obviously a good driver. Seven-time… Seven-time winner?” He said before looking at Val who is nodding at him.

“I got faith in you, buddy,” Max finishes as he takes a swing for his turn. Seconds later, it was Valentina’s turn to swing. Clearing her throat, she points at Lando before imitating Max’s tone, “I’ve got faith in you too, mate.” Swings the club… and intentionally misses the ball.

Lando stood there looking at her in faint disbelief, “You didn’t even hit the ball”, gesturing to the still intact golf ball and tee.

“Yeah, 'cause I also need to have faith and win myself.” She told him, as a matter of fact, before making a proper swing.

What is it about your and the Alfa Romeo rookie's relationship? Chuckling at the question, “Val? We’ve known each other for quite a while, probably half my life, more so hers. She’s like an itch that you can’t get rid of… but in a good way. Vali’s been one of the constants since before karting, as am I to her, so I’ll say we have a good ass relationship.” He ends his statement with a fond smile. What does it feel like to see her joining formula one and being rivals on track? Sucking in a breath, he wears a cheeky smile as he answers, “Seeing her come up on here and race us, makes me feel accomplished. Just 'cause I’ve seen where she’s started… And we’ve experienced a lot of things together with the others, so to get a chance in Formula 1, it’s more of like a win for the both of us, really.” “To being rivals it- we’re both really competitive people, too competitive as I might say so. But a race is a race, a win is a win, at the end of the day- or a race really, we’re still friends, nothing's about to change.” Raising his eyebrows teasingly, “We’ll just have to prove who’s going to one-up the other this time.”

Ep 3: Tipping Point

MONACO

In the last five races, you’ve started up in p5 and then p3 in Portugal. In this race however, not only did you manage to outsmart the Max Verstappen in that last corner, but you have also won your very first Grand Prix, this early on in your career. How do you feel about that? Val, who was sitting back on the chair, smiled widely when asked about her unexpected win. “Honestly, it still hasn’t sunk in. It’s been like 2 or 3 weeks. But I feel great as a whole, makes me feel good about myself, like an unexplainable tingling sensation that happens throughout my body.” She said, wiggling in her seat to show the feeling. You have also celebrated with McLaren’s Lando Norris, who we’ve just known is a very close friend of yours. Taken aback, “Really? You’ve just known… isn’t that like common knowledge for you guys at this point?” She questions with a light voice before continuing. “Jokes aside. It’s amazing, it feels amazing to actually stand on a podium with one of your closest friends. Cause after all that daydreaming as kids you never would’ve thought you would reach the top this early on in your career..” And since then you’ve never dropped out of the top 5. “Yeah, that’s what keeps me awake at night. It’s become a “wow” factor for me as the season progresses. Never really thought I’ll be with the people I looked up to growing up, but now that I’ve stood- is standing, rather, next to them I feel like I’ve reached the next step or like phase of my life and that, along with this Grand Prix win, would help me become a better driver and a person as time passes.”

Ep 4: A Mountain to Climb

You’ve entered this season with two rookies and reports are already saying that you’re offering Alfa Romeo’s Corbyn a seat in Haas this early on in the season. What has Haas' Guenther have to say about all this? “I- uh, she’s good despite being a rookie, even better than some…” he looks around, giving them "the look" that says everything about what he means, “but I have a reason to believe our... negotiations will be on hold. Like how she did with her team in the last two years.. she uhm-”

With McLaren’s shoot on hold, Guenther takes his chance to walk right behind the team to have a small chat with Val who was once again wandering around the paddock.

The rookie still chatting up her closest companion, Lando, looks off to the side when her name was called. Lando, taking his chance, shoots her arm. Receiving a groan from her.

Guenther who was now closer to them call back her attention, “Hey, you. Answer my call yeah?”

She laughs knowing the meaning behind his words, but being the cheeky person that she is, tilts her head before innocently saying, “My phone isn’t on me. I’m sorry, I guess?”

Back to the interview, Haas’ team principal can only drag a hand down his face while letting out a breath, “That would be true if she’s been in contact with us, but she isn’t, so no.”

Ep 5: Staying Alive

Zooming in on Val congratulating Lando and Danny on their 1-2 Monza Win

The camera zooms past all the McLaren employees to show Valentina rushing inside towards Lando who’s still in the team’s garage after the podium.

Her voice, barely audible is heard over that chatting in the room, “Norris!!” she reaches up to take him into a hug, which Lando reciprocated. Letting go, Val pats his shoulder a wide smile on her face, “Well done, mate! McLaren be getting that 1-2 win, yes?”

Giving the younger one a never-changing appreciative smile, he pats her hand on his shoulder in return, “Yeah…” Their conversation fades out as Lando walks her out of the garage to where the rest of the drivers are.

Finally seeing the other McLaren winner, Val quickens her steps offering her hand out for a fist bump with Daniel, “Well done to you too, Ricciardo!”

He pushes her sideways by his hip, “Aww, isn’t that sweet. But don’t push it, kid. You’re just saying that, so I’ll congratulate you on your next win.”

Releasing an exaggerated gasp, she looks at the other two drivers, Carlos and Lando, “I am not... but you did say next so...” Fading out the conversation, she tries to kick his shin, which he did evade.

Ep 6: A Point to Prove

A driver and their engineer's radio moments are one of the most awaited when it comes to Formula 1. And to say that Val and her engineer Alejandro's radio moments are entertaining is an understatement.

HUNGARY The whole Turn 1 drama but in Val’s POV

It’s lights out and away we go

Corbyn-Alfa Romeo oh... my... gosh... Alejandro... Keep position, multiple crashes in turn 1 Yep.. so early in the race, guys. Too early

Corbyn trying to take advantage of the chaos and- OH NO! Being pushed on the rear by the McLaren...

The Aston Martin into the Ferrari, the McLaren and the Alfa Romeo

Corbyn-Alfa Romeo Holy shit, that did not just fucking happen Language Sorry sorry Copy, Val. Red flag then Lap 3. Box please, Box Okie

Ep 7: Growing Pains

So far, the fellow has been the only one to raise Alpha Tauri’s Yuki Tsunoda’s spirits after a temper tantrum. And to say that isn’t a shock actually, with both drivers having fits on track you can say that the other actually handles themselves better.

Standing by the door, Val currently has a clear view of the paddock’s entrance. Seeing Yuki’s familiar stature walking towards the building, she races both her arms up, as he enters, to get his attention.

Clearing her throat, she lets out the phrase she’s been practicing all night just to race Yuki’s spirits. It sort of became a thing between the two young rookies.

“Hey, Yuki-san!! Kyō no rēsu no junbi wa dekite imasu ka?” She said laughing at her broken Japanese. In response, Yuki laughed at her attempt and gave her a high five before responding and walking further away from the camera. (Are you ready for today's race?)

Ep 8: Dances with Wolff

Belgian Grand Prix - Qualifying

Corbyn-Alfa Romeo Val, red flag ahead, slow down. Vettel’s still half a second behind. What’s happened? …. Ale? …Norris has had a bit of shunt in Eau Rouge exhaling loudly Fucking hell should’ve called this off earlier.

Seeing the wreckage, the rookie is seen stopping a close few feet away, before getting up from her seat. Norris shook his head at her actions.

Corbyn-Alfa Romeo No, Val, the race is still a go. Continue on, he’s fine The hell he is... shitting, FUCK! Calm down, he’s fine safety’s on the way she waves her hand, asking if he’s ok You guys are fucking kidding me, should’ve prevented this earlier Copy, copy. Vettel had shared the same thought. who’s now directly behind you and Val, language, please. ok... ducking bum heads they are.

Ep 9: Gloves are Off

QATAR

We’re in the desert. We’re in Qatar for this year’s brand-new circuits in the Middle East

The few-second clips has shown Mercedes’ Toto Wolff arriving, Checo and his team on the track, Carlos and- rather Carlos’ team can be seen scurrying around the place, trying to find their missing driver.

A few minutes in and the drivers and their are getting ready for today’s practice. Buxton's voice in the background is heard as the hunt for Carlos Sainz is starting,

Valentina has clearly been a fan and paddock favourite ever since her debut. The way she fits in with the other 19 drivers who clearly dominate the area is surprising. Throughout the season Val has shown how capable she is as a rookie driver deserving of her seat, her confidence and attitude on track are what keeps her in the positions she’s currently at. And with the outstanding results she’s been getting, there’s no doubt she’ll be getting some contracts on her desk. But what these people forget is that this astonishing driver is the youngest on the grid at only eighteen...

Zooming in, a very peculiar situation can be seen inside the Ferrari motor home. A driver who clearly isn’t supposed to be there is currently on the couch, sleeping with Ferrari’s missing driver.

Valentina is seen still wrapped up in her team’s jacket, leaning toward her fellow Spaniard who lets her, despite being called by his team a couple times. Seeing the camera recording them, Carlos places a finger towards his mouth gesturing for them to keep quiet as he points it to Valentina.

This is a sight that the whole Formula 1 community has come to cherish.

For the second time in the series, Will Buxton, a known F1 journalist talks about another possible driver change, now for Red Bull Racing. Other than the fight for the championship, Alfa Romeo has had a massive comeback, currently running for fourth place verse McLaren. Points have been increasing, the majority coming from the rookie, Valentina Corbyn, who has scored the most points than the other three… Adding to her tremendous starting career as an f1 driver, Valentina not only has had Haas coming after her, but Red Bull Racing’s Christian Horner has also been a frequent guest at Alfa Romeo’s motorhome. With Red Bull only having signed Sergio Perez as their driver this season, is he ready to lose his seat to the 18-year-old that fast? “Bonjour” “Bonjour” Red Bull’s Christian Horner greets the journalist in front of him. “There seems to be a high level of tension between the drivers, the team principals, and now the newly signed and rookie drivers. Is it good for Formula 1 or is it a bit—“ Cutting him off Christian answers, “It’s a competition, you know? It’s not a kids club. And you know, we operate in different ways. Toto will shout and scream at the camera. Maybe I’m a little bit more, calm.” “Other than that, rumours have been circulating that you’re in the process of having Alfa Romeo’s Corbyn sign in with Red Bull for next year’s season. What does that mean for Perez?” With a neutral stare, the Red Bull team principal crosses his arms to his chest, “Contracts are what keep a driver’s career running aside from their skills. Valentina’s a very skilled driver so if she does end up with us, the media isn’t going to be announcing it to the world.”

Ep 10: Hard Racing

Interview cameos can be fun from time to time. But when two youngsters are in the same room, the fun comes first before you can even start something.

0:21

"Right!"

"Testing, three, four. Nutsack, five, six," Daniel started as soon as he sat down.

Lando, who has his foot in the air, can be seen trying to swat something, or rather someone, with his other slipper.

Pointing to Val, who was by the door, "Oi get her out. What the hell you’re doing here, anyway?"

Shrugging, she just raises her hands in surrender, "Don’t worry Lando, I've seen weirder stuff that you do."

Throwing his slipper at her response, the video pans as she's seen exiting the room.

Sighing at her antics, "Ok… Action!"

2:59

Who’s your money on? Smiling, Daniel shakes his head, "I’ve gone back and forth. At this rate, it’s a flip of a coin," he said, voice filled with hesitance. George, contrary to Daniel, went with a straight answer, "I think Lewis is gonna get it." Along with Lando, who was quite happy with his response, "I think it all points to one person… Max Verstappen" Pierre, with confidence, "Lewis and Max won’t see the second corner." Valentina, however, didn't give a clear answer when asked. She's caught off guard by the question as she stopped tying her hair up mid-way. "That is a dangerous question. If I want my dad to kill me, I’ll have to answer Max… But if I want Hor- a certain someone to get mad at me, I’ll say Lewis... You know what, let’s just wait and see." She concludes with that know loved smile of hers.

Welcome along to the final round of this 2021 season.

The clips show a range of drivers getting ready in their own garages, all went by smoothly before it ended with Alfa Romeo's final driver.

Val, having a hard time zipping her suit up, points to the camera mouthing, “See you soon on the podium!” Winking, after she's zipped up with the balaclava on her head before securing her helmet in place.

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tomssexdoll · 13 days

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OMG OMG OMG I LOVE YOU

i NEED a georg fic so heres a request 😘 so your amazing beautiful loving perfect boyfriend decided to take you to the studio with him one day. it started off well: the band was just discussing some things abouth the new album and shit and THENNN y/n started making moves on georg. like rubbing her feet up and down his legs, palming him when no one was looking, just teasing him a LOT. georg got fed up and said to the band "i really need to shit so im gonna run to the bathroom really quick." when he was in the restroom, he wasnt taking a shit, he was jerking off. once he came out the restroom, he grabbed y/n and stormed out the studio rushing home. "ohh you're getting it when we get home. you're not gonna be able to walk when im done with you" when they got home, he turned into a sex machine. he fucked y/n dumb. after they fucked he obviously did aftercare. they cuddled and fell asleep together after they got cleaned up. THE END

sorry this was kinda long😭 also you can dm me if theres any parts that confused you!

YES BABY CAKES

Misbehaving

PAIRINGS: Georg 2009? x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + a little bit of fluff SYPNOSIS: You tease Georg and test his limits, after getting a boner he's left with no choice but to jerk off in the bathroom to relieve himself, once he comes out without any warning he grabs you and drags you back home, punishing you A/N: ily georg WARNINGS: dom!georg, reader!sub, p in v (missionary), teasing, solo masturbation (georg), hair pulling, choking, degrading

Georg finally decided to take me to the studio today, usually he'd say no because they'd be super busy and didn't need any distractions, the whole band agreed that i was very distractive, especially Georg.

They weren't as busy today, just needing to practice and check up on a few editing things. I got into his car and he drove us there, the snow pouring outside, covering the pretty green grass.

Luckily the studio was always warm so I didn't wear something for the cold, I was only going to be in it for a split second anyways.

As we got there we put our things down, the band sat down together to discuss their new album, Humanoid. They started to work on songs, Bill had already recorded around 15 songs, they said they were going to make 25 and pick the ones that were best for the album.

Me and Bill were very close to he expressed the idea to me first, saying how he wanted something different, something futuristic to grab attention. He always had the best ideas, Georg too, he was amazing at decision making, that's what I loved about him.

We all gathered around the table, I sat really close to Georg as he ate his pizza, still discussing what instruments and songs they think they already like. Then, an idea popped into me head.

Our sex has been kind of boring lately, just the same vanilla, gentle sex as usual. I missed our spicy, rough love making sessions, he'd always turn it down because he didn't want to hurt me, even if I explained that I was into it.

He was very caring and gentle but sometimes it annoyed me, why couldn't he spank or choke me just a little bit?

I started by moving my foot up and down his leg slowly, something thar seemed innocent to the others, but not to us. He was all too familiar with this move, this is why I wasn't allowed at band practice because I'd always end up needing "bathroom breaks" with him.

No one could really notice anyways, the table was high and our legs weren't visible. I moved my foot to his crotch, then down to his leg again, rubbing it gently. "What're you doing.." he looked down at me, his voice stern.

"Nothing..why?" I tried to hold back a smile, trying to look innocent. "Fucking hell.." he grunted, bringing his attention back to the guys. I grunted softly, my distraction seemingly not working on him. I had to bring the big guns out.

If my foot wasn't going to work then my hands were, it always worked no matter how long it took. I started off my rubbing my hand on his thigh, extremely close to his cock.

His breath hitched slightly, biting his lip, "behave.." he muttered, giving me the dirtiest glare ever. I smirked and continued to rub my hand up and down his thigh, now palming his cock softly.

A moan nearly slipped out but he covered it with a cough, clearing his throat a bit. "God..this pizza is giving me the shits...i really need to poop so im gonna run to the bathroom really quick," Georg excused himself, bolting to the toilet.

I smirked to myself and knew what he was doing, he wasn't taking a shit, he was jerking off.

GEORGS POV:

That fucking little shit, making me hard at band practice, for what? A little fun? I shoved my pants and boxers down, my cock springing free, precum leaking from my tip, desperate for attention.

"Jesus.." I breathed out, sitting onto the toilet seat and wrapping my large hands around my shaft, pumping desperatly, my movements quick and rough.

"Fuckkk.." I whined quietly, throwing my head back as the pleasure set in, stroking my cock roughly, squeezing my eyes shut. I knew I was going to destroy Y/N when we got home, make her see stars for the agony she put me in.

My movements never faltered, only getting faster, my balls feeling heavy. "Oh god..." I groaned, rolling my eyes back as I felt my orgasm approach.

I kept jerking my cock off, desperate for release, imagining all the dirty things I'd do to her when we got home, the way I'd choke and spank her, the way my cock would be pistoning in and out of her, her moans and whimpers, how she'll be begging for more.

Before I knew it my orgasm crashed down, my cum shot from out of my tip and crashed onto my hands and thighs. "Shit.." I grunted, quickly cleaning myself up and flushing the toilet.

Y/NS pov:

Fear had been consuming me, every minute that went by I dreaded, I wanted this yes but I knew I wasn't going to be prepared for how rough he'd be, when Georg was mad he fucked like a wild animal.

As I heard the toilet flush my heart sank, beating at an inhuman pace, skipping a few beats. As he came out I saw the rage in his eyes, he stormed towards me, grabbing my arm roughly and dragging me with him.

"That's weird, it doesn't spell like poop," Gustav called out as he walked to the toilet. Georg slammed the studio door behind him, "ohh you're getting it when we get home. you're not gonna be able to walk when im done with you," slinging me over his shoulder and practically running to the car.

"Georg slow down!" I yelled, he grunted and smacked my ass roughly, "shut up, you don't get to tease me like that," he shoved me into the passanger seat, not bothered to check if I was strapped in before he sped off.

He zoomed home, running a few red lights in the process. As we got home he grabbed me again, slinging me over his shoulder once more and storming inside, not a care about the world surrounding us.

His fingers digged into the flesh of my thighs, his footsteps so loud they echoed around the entire house. When he got to our bedroom he practically thew me onto the bed, the impact sending shockwaves through my body.

I could tell his anger and desperation wasn't calming down anytime soon, I tried taking my clothes off to help him but he just slapped my hands away, "no! just lay there, lay there and do nothing, you've already done enough damage" he grunted, tugging his clothes off, his cock engorged.

"Oh fuck.." I gasped, my pussy throbbing at his pulsating cock, red and veiny, ready for me. "Teasing little slut.." he groaned, towering over me and ripping my clothes off, catapulting them across the room.

"Calm down Georg.." I smirked, wanting to drive him over the edge. Anger flashed in his eyes, they darted towards mine, giving me daggers. "Calm down? CALM DOWN?" he yelled, it took me literally everything to not laugh, I covered my mouth and nodded. "You're such a fucking tease y/n. What if someone saw? You want people to see how much of a fucking slut you are?" he leaned in, whispering in my ear.

"What if i do.." I giggled, he grabbed my hair and pulled me towards him, "you're gonna take all of me, i'm gonna show you how much of a dirty whore you are," he grabbed my hips, his tip prodding at my entrance.

Without hesitation he burried his cock inside me, every single inch going in all at once. "Ohh fuck!" I whined, my hands flying to his biceps, holding onto him tightly.

"Such a fucking tease, aren't you, hm?" he growled lowly, starting to pound my pussy. The bed started to shake with each rough thrust, "you like that, hm?" he reached down and wrapped his hand around my neck, squeezing lightly.

"Mmm oh fuck!" I moaned loudly, my tits bouncing wildly. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his balls slapping against my ass with each movement, his pace quickening when he heard my small moans.

His grip around my neck tightened even more, the air being squeezed out of my lungs, "see how your pussy takes me so well," he smirked, his hair disheveled, sweat beads coating his forehead.

"Oh..my god.." I muttered, Georg was basically fucking me dumb, my mind couldn't comprehend anything around me except for his cock ramming in and out of me, my ability to speak proper sentances gone.

"You gonna cum, gonna explode all over his cock?" he removed his hand from my throat, moving to my hair and tugging on it again, "m...mhm!" I cried out, digging my nails into his arms.

I felt tension build in my stomach, a lingering sensation of pleasure slowly building up until I couldn't hold it back anymore, "close! mmm!" I murmered, rolling my eyes back.

"Cum for me, now!" he called out, slamming his cock into my sopping cunt, with one last cruel thrust, I came all over his cock, my juices dripping on his length.

"Holy shit!" Georg cried out, shooting a huge load into my cunt, coating my walls with thick ropes of cum.

He collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving against mine, trying to regain his breath after the mind blowing orgasm he just had. "Fucking hell that was amazing.." he chuckled, "cmon let's get you cleaned up honey.." he picked me up, sitting me up and grabbing a tissue, slowly wiping the dripping cum, making sure to not overstimulate me.

"You did so good baby..." he smiled, laying back on the bed and pulling me into him, "such a good girl, letting me fuck you dumb," kissing my neck softly.

His arms wrapped around me protectively, making sure I was ok after all I had to enduce.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @ella1289 @kaulitzswhxre @estxkios @cosmicck @bkaulitzlover @ge-billsgf @miyukafujii @tomsonlyslut @20doozers

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serahlink · 3 months

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‼️‼️HELP A HOMELESS ARTIST (EMERGENCY COMMS OPEN)‼️‼️

Reblogs are also greatly appreciated!! :)

Making a new post since things are getting really bad again and we're in desperate need of help at the moment. For those who don't know me, you can call me Link (he/him), I'm a homeless artist and since November 2021 my family and I (father and younger sibling) have been homeless and living out of a motel. Since we don't have any family or friend support, or a way to get a job at the moment, I've been doing commissions to try and keep us fed and housed until something changes. I'll put some receipts below.

Ever since the rents been raised here, it's been a bit troublesome trying to cover things day by day, which we rarely can do. Even food is something that we can't afford sometimes. Right now, we're in that sort of state. So far, we haven't been able to cover the room for two days and getting food has been very difficult for us due to the lack of work. We owe 200$ for the room tomorrow (rent is 65$ a day). While the people here are nice and give us extensions with time and such, we were told if we can't pay tomorrow then we would be kicked out. We have nowhere to go if that happens, no family or friends we can stay with.

So, I'm opening commissions to try and stop that from happening. I'll put some examples and prices below. I mainly draw fantasy oriented stuff such as DnD, Dragon Age, Baldurs Gate, etc. but I can do OCS of any genre/variety. My turn around time is varied depending on the commission and our living situation since it's very unpredictable. For smaller commissions, I take around two weeks. And for bigger ones it could take up to two weeks to a month. Again that could vary. I don't do heavy gore, anything weird or NSFW (I've never drawn it so I'm not confident in selling it). Also, refunds cannot be given. If there's anything that needs to be changed about a commission, I will do it free of charge but refunds are something we can't do due to us needing to use the funds immediately. Either for food or the room.

Please, if anyone could share this or help us out, my family and I would very much appreciate it. Thank you. :")

~Prices~

Sketch (price depending on type of sketch) - base price of 15$

Sketch page - 15$ per sketch

Headshot - 25$ (+10$ if shaded)

Bust - 35$ (+10$ if shaded)

Half body - 50$ (+10$ if shaded)

Full body - 70$ (+15$ if shaded)

Couples Commission (a commission that includes two people) - 90$ (+15$ if shaded)

Group commissions (commission that includes more than two people, price dependant on the details) - 60 base price(one character, unshaded; each extra character is +75% to the original price) (40$+ if shaded)

Paintings (price depending on the details) - 100$+

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remcycl333 · 1 year

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i really like when u talk abt ur own experiences when dealing with all this!! could u expand more on how u manifested ur apartment? like what ur daily life looked like, etc. bc im in a similar situation w a mentally exhausting family and im trying to get tf out lol

TW: narcissistic/co-dependent parent

yeah! so my older sister got married and moved out, leaving me alone with a narcissistic parent, so i knew i really wanted to move out and live on my own. but i had negative circumstances. for instance my parent was really co-dependent, which led to them never letting me get my drivers license or a job. even when i was 20-21. plus this was during lockdown so i didn't really have the ability to learn how to drive from other means. plus along with not being able to drive and not having the money to afford living on my own, i knew my parent would never let me move out bc they didn't want to be alone. so i was really depressed because my situation felt very hopeless.

but then i remembered the power of manifestation. i had manifested an sp at this point and other things, such as appearance changes and money here and there, but this was a "big" manifestation. big meaning that so many dominoes had to fall in just the right places, so to speak. for instance i was nervous that i'd wake up in a new apartment and not be able to pay the rent to live there and have to move out. so i was unsure if i should manifest money first, and then manifest the apartment. but what i was imagining as my end was me in my apartment with more than enough money to survive, so i decided not to manifest in steps.

i was triggered a LOT at first, bc like i mentioned i was dealing with a co-dependent narcissistic parent. like sometimes they'd talk about how i'd still be living at home till i was 25+ and the idea made me go absolutely crazy. i went through months of being miserable at the idea, thinking about how all my peers were living on their own and not having to deal with the shit i did. but eventually i just got so fed up and i decided i just needed to go completely in, because i had been putting off really applying for the longest time.

so what i did was make a note in my notes app describing my dream apartment, and i included pics i found on Pinterest of different features i wanted in my apartment. like what i wanted the kitchen and bathroom to look like, the specific vanity i wanted, etc.

then whenever i thought about it, i'd tell myself i was already there and the apartment was mine. similarly to Abdullah slamming the door on Neville and saying "you are in Barbados", any time i wondered how it would happen or think about how it hadn't reflected yet, i'd tell myself "you are in your dream apartment." it was a reminder that i wouldn't be wondering any of those things, or worrying or doubting, if i was already in my dream apartment. and i already was there in my imagination! so there was no room for me to be dwelling on stuff like that.

throughout the day, i liked to retreat to my imagination when i had time and felt upset about my 3D. i'd do so by imagining that my surroundings were different. for instance i had a picture saved of what i wanted my shower to look like (it was always my dream to have a really really nice bathroom bc my shower has always been a safe space for me of sorts lmao) so when i was in the shower, i'd close my eyes and imagine i was in that shower i had saved from Pinterest. i also did this in the kitchen when i was cleaning or cooking, and while i laid in bed at night before falling asleep.

i also never really let people come over to my house when i lived with my parent(s) bc my co-dependent narcissistic parent would always come up with some completely insane and random reason why they didn't like that friend and i'd never hear the end of it. so i'd have inner convos with myself about how i was excited my friend was coming over later and i'd come up with different things we'd be doing. this was another way i liked to fulfill myself in my imagination.

whenever i was interacting with my parent, as i way to dismiss my 3D, i just pretended i was visiting home and that's why i was with them/at their house. it helped me remind myself that being there wasn't permanent.

this manifestation took me a couple of months, as i was triggered a lot. eventually, after fulfilling myself enough and finding solace in my imagination whenever i felt bad, i was triggered less and less by my 3d and circumstances. i also manifested my parent being chiller and blowing up a lot less.

the final thing i was missing was that i was in a neutral state a lot and i thought because i wasn't upset by my 3d that meant i wasn't in the state of lack. i just had this epiphany recently on my twitter, so it took me a while to correct this issue because i didn't even know it was an issue. i had that epiphany well after successfully manifesting my apartment.

the neutral state was me being like "oh my 3d isn't too bad i kinda like chilling in my room unbothered." so i wasn't upset at my 3d, but i was still also acknowledging i didn't have what i wanted. this was fixed when i started imagining my surroundings as my dream apartment, like i mentioned a few paragraphs up.

and then one day, i woke up and my surroundings felt different. i sleep with a sleeping mask on, so when i wake up and open my eyes, it's still pitch black. but i felt the air around me was different, and the sounds around me were different. like the sound of my ceiling fan in my room was different. then i took off my sleeping mask and i was in my new room, in my new apartment!

it was kinda spooky at first im ngl. at first i thought i was dreaming, but i wasn't (i checked). then i just explored the apartment! i was paranoid i was gonna find someone in my apartment or something 😭 but the apt was exactly how i wanted it to look, and i had plenty of money in my bank account to cover rent and bills and food! and i've been living here ever since with virtually 0 problems :)

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mortuarybees · 11 months

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I don't want to set unrealistic expectations for folks, not every union will be able to win things like a $42/hour wage. That has to do with the strength of the teamsters and the outrageous profits ups has seen in recent years. I'm union and I don't even make half that, but before our new contract (which we were able to win because we have had a surge of new members and activism within the union) I made even less. But beyond that we have been able to win things specific to our work, like compensation for speaking multiple languages, training new staff during our regular shifts, additional sick time, and a new, fairer, standardized system for requesting time off.

A union also offers you protection, it's pretty standard to my understanding that you have a right for a steward be present with you for any disciplinary meeting with management, and through the union's intervention, we were able to get severance when we were laid off last year with a week's notice when management planned to offer us nothing, and I also gained priority when I applied to other positions at the company, which is why I'm still fortunate enough to be part of this amazing union. Being part of a union doesn't make your workplace perfect, and a union requires work and involvement--it doesn't happen in the background, its strength comes from the commitment of everyone in it--and it can ask a lot of you if you are someone who's willing to be more involved.

But I think something my generation can barely fathom is the concept of being at a workplace for years and years and years, something that was so common for our grandparents. It's virtually impossible to do it and it's not even desirable; most places are a revolving door of dissatisfied, overworked staff and I think a lot of people have experienced working at a place and every single one of your coworkers turning over by the time youre fed up with the poor conditions and treatment and leave for another job where the same thing happens. Through a union, though, you can shape a place you want to stay at for a long time, or shape a place you care about and make it better for people who will be there after you. Union employees are more likely to stay at our workplace for longer, we form a stronger community at our site. We're better paid, get better benefits, and have an avenue to shape the place we spend so much of our lives. We aren't powerless. Yes, something like $25 is taken out of all my paychecks, but I think to anyone in this nightmare of a workforce, that has to sound well worth it for all the benefits being part of a union gives you and your coworkers.

#henry speaks

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taxidermycanine · 4 months

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5 VIDEO GAMES FOR THERIANS.

i'm going to try to be as inclusive as possible like my last thread :0) enjoy!!

1 •

for my other wolf therians (or canine therians in general) out there — wolfquest !! live the life you were meant to live in this realistic wolf simulator. find a mate, hunt, raise pups, and defend what's yours!! this game is $20 on steam and itchio, it comes with the OG game too if you ever want to play the older version :03

you can play with up to 8 friends on multiplayer, there's a saga in the works (the completed version of the game), DLCs for those with extra cash to spare, and 88 achievements on steam for those who love collecting things!!

as someone who plays this game every day, and has been playing since i was a small child, i highly recommend this game not only from a therian perspective, but also because it's extremely fun to play!!

2 •

for any lynx therians out there, i recommend shelter 2 !! play as a mother lynx striving to keep her cubs alive and fed as you hunt prey, explore the wildlife and prepare for other animals trying to harm you and your young.

this game is incredibly pretty and, from my own experience, runs on even the shittiest computers with relative ease.

and yes, you can name both you and your babies :03

this game is $25 on steam and has a DLC for $10, it has 26 achievements and doesn't take too long to complete!!

3 •

if you're not a wild animal, but still feline, then i suggest you get the game stray !!

control an orange cat as you try to find your way back to your clowder after falling into a pit away from them. explore your environment, which can get pretty dangerous at times, so be careful!! but it isn't all bad out there, you'll meet friends, and people that love you.

story aside, this game is extremely fun to play and easy to control. i'm not a cat therian, but playing the game i felt immersed in the world, i felt like i WAS the cat. this game is $30 on steam :0)

the best part? you can meow. constantly.

i recommend a computer that can handle games with high graphics for the best results.

4 •

for any geese (or ducks) out there, you should get untitled goose game !! love mischief? even better, that's ALL you do in this game. steal things, make things hard for the townsfolk, honk and wear hats!! it's even multiplayer, double the irritability!!

this game is extremely fun and lighthearted, my favorite part is how you can collect things in it!! i love building a mountain of stolen goods and running around aimlessly as a silly little bird.

it runs well on all computers from my own experience, and you can buy it for $20 on steam!!

5 •

and last, but not least, meadow !! this game was produced by the same developers that made shelter 1 & 2 :0)

play as multiple animals in this online world, unlock different skins and new critters to play as, meet and make new friends, explore the environment around you. this game is suitable for all and one of the cheaper ones on this list at $10.

it runs easily on most software and is wonderful to play if you need some time to wind down in the evening after a stressful day due to the muted colors, calm environment and interesting style :03

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tarjapearce · 7 months

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Idk if it was mentioned (I'm still working my way through all the soccer family stuffs) but is Mama Hispanic? Or did she learn Spanish?

Sure it's not that important to some people, but I'm curious to know what you had in mind when writing her, cause I'm obsessed and wanna know all the background info on all your things

First of all, lemme welcome you to this madness hehe ❤️.

And she learned Spanish, thanks to Miguel mostly.

She's this lovely latin-american woman that moved to Nueva York when a kid but didn't grow up with the language. Her parents were too concerned with her learning a new language than anything else that they forgot to keep encouraging the spanish.

It served it's purpose but it was hard for her being one of those kid that was part latino but didn't know any spanish. Bully ensured, but she was feisty. (Resulting in her being in trouble a couple of times because she got fed up with their shit.)

When she meets Miguel, we see her boasting up spanish cause she just reconnected with her mother tongue. (Thanks to her elder aunt Isa), however it was one of those things that come and go if you don't practice them enough.

Miguel had sooo much patience with her once they get married, it was hard and kinda frustrating to make progress only to be regressing with little things. But It was the perfect chance for Miguel to say the filthiest things right into her face and she would just look at him with a loving and curious look, thinking he was being poetic and in love.

But after years, and some extra lessons and a gorgeous half Mexican man as her personal tutor, nothing escapes from her.

Sometimes it gets under Miguel's skin cause she has such a potty mouth when angry. (It arouses and scares him)

The only one in her generation that ran away from home (More like forced to leave) when she was 17, worked her way through college, got a decent looking job until she started to get underpaid and the load work was the same if not worse. She meets Miguel at the age of 21. (He was 25 that time), only to become a mother two years later.

Her family criticized her for getting married so young, but look at her now ~

Happy, a spoiled housewife, a marriage of 13 and a half years and three lovely kids with a beautiful and dreamy husband that would do anything for her.

And her character is born out of the need to see more Latina women in Miguel’s fics :') There was soo little content about it. So I took matters in my own hands. Even though she is mixed, I wanted to make her a relatable character for everyone that has came across this AU. (Be it either family issues, growing up without the mother tongue, finding independence really young, toxic and unhinged family, going to therapy to heal, and other emotional thingies that are often overlooked ~)

So even if you aren't a Latina, you can still feel part of her character ❤️.

Its therapeutic and fun to write her, ☺️.

Hope this offers a little more insight on Mama ❤️

#miguel o'hara #talking with t✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #soccer family ⚽🕷️#atsv miguel #mama o'hara

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mrsquill · 10 months

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Two Chances

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader (Outbreak-Free AU)

Summary: You love your job at your local dog shelter, but weekends are precious to you. Enter Joel Miller and his daughter, looking to add to their family.

Notes: Well, here’s this. My first x reader fic! Based on a gorgeous little something @fuckyeahdindjarin inspired me to write a little while ago ❤️ I’ve tried to be as inclusive as possible here, but please let me know if I’ve missed the mark at any point. This, as usual, is short but hopefully y’all enjoy. Thanks to all those in this beautiful community who have inspired & helped me along the way.

Warnings: Fluff, reader has smutty thoughts about Joel cuz she’s only human (18+ minors DNI), no specific age of reader (but she is an adult), slight angst, discussion of parent death and awful fathers. Joel could potentially be a bit OOC here but *shrugs* I think that’s everything!

You couldn’t wait to finish your shift. Not that you didn’t love your job, but it was hot as balls out today, and all you were dreaming of was an ice cold beer and the pool in your neighbour’s backyard, nothing but silence in your surroundings. It’d been an exhausting and physically demanding day at the shelter - 25 dogs needing to be fed, watered, exercised and cared for round the clock. It would do that to anyone, let alone you, who’d taken this on as a part-time job and just kinda got stuck.

Your braid was falling out, sticking to the sweat pooling on your neck as you swept the concrete outside the kennels; straps of your white cotton camisole slipping down your sore upper arms.

Ten minutes, you assured yourself, silently puffing stray strands of hair away from your forehead and glancing at the clock. The raucous din of the dogs chattering to one another bounced off the walls around you. Ten minutes ‘til your weekend was finally yours.

Still, you could think of worse places to spend your Saturday, watching as the two newest arrivals - brother Boxer puppies, Thor and Loki - chased one another’s tails round their pen. The residents here shattered your heart and made it feel so full at all once; some having the most horrendous skin-and-bone start to their lives on the streets, others lasting only a couple of months with a family after being purchased as a barely thought-out Christmas gift. Gaining their trust could be hard, but it was worth it every damn time; nothing was more rewarding than those wet puppy kisses after hours of gentle coaxing.

“I’m heading out, hon,” Mo calls out to you with a wave from the makeshift office at the end of the kennels. “See you Monday!”, you reply with genuine enthusiasm, as you watch your boss head off in the direction of her house. You loved Mo; she had a way with all animals that you were sure would guarantee her entry to the pearly gates one day.

She curated a home for the dogs here that you were more than happy to assist with. Being just the two of you, things could get a little intense, but you were fond of each other, and had no qualms about alternating who would close up on the weekend.

A couple more minutes go by as you absent-mindedly check off the few remaining tasks on your list, head more full of the decision of which Ben & Jerry’s flavour to pick up at the gas station on the way home. It’s then you hear the crunch of the gravel outside as a car pulls up; silently cursing as you note the time. 5:01pm.

Sighing, hating the notion of turning anyone away, you dust down the front of your cutoffs the best you can and chewing your lip uncertainly. You guess you can spare some time; if these people are serious about adoption, it’s a win-win situation for everyone involved. The traffic through the shelter was steady, but you could always be doing better. It’s sad to see a dog go - of course it was - but seeing them head off with their new family was all the reward you needed in the world.

A pair of footsteps and muted chatter come round the corner from the parking lot, and suddenly you’re doing everything you can not to openly stare at the man approaching you on the concrete, a girl of around five or six that you can only imagine to be his young daughter swinging off his hand.

It’s not that he’s especially tall or anything. But man, is he broad. Strong shoulders under his denim shirt, biceps nudging lovingly against his sleeves. Not the kind of muscle from the gym, though; no, this guy clearly spends his days outside doing something physical, judging by the dust on his boots and the worn material of his jeans at the kneecaps. The idea of him, sweaty and shirtless and perhaps a hammer in hand, has you feeling like you need to grip the walkway rail a little harder. Pathetic, you reprimand yourself internally. You don’t think you’ve been this bowled over by a gorgeous man since your grandmother sat you down to watch Indiana Jones as a kid.

You sneak a look at the smattering of hair at the base of his thick neck; his rugged jawline, beard creeping over just so. He runs a hand through his curls, and he catches you staring. Fuck. He looks back down at his daughter; and you’re all at sea after looking into his eyes. Darkest brown, drinking you in. You draw yourself up to your fullest height and grip the broom a little harder as they reach you. It wouldn’t do to be caught - again - staring at him like some lovestruck teenager.

“We’re too late, ain’t we?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in anticipation of your response. “Not at all!” you smile, perhaps a little too brightly, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you by the quirk of his brow. “This one was none too happy with me makin’ her wait till the weekend to come here, so thank you for seein’ us,” he murmurs, gesturing to the girl beside him as she grins at you shyly, one front tooth missing.

You introduce yourself to them both, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach as his large hand envelops yours easily. “‘m Joel, and this here is my daughter, Sarah,” he nods affectionately towards the young girl; her eyes already shining with excitement as she catches sight of the two Boxer puppies gambolling around behind you. “Would you like to meet them?” you ask Sarah, and she nods so enthusiastically you worry her head may fall off.

“We have an enclosed meadow out back,” you point your thumb behind you, “and we can take these little guys over there, if you’d like?” you offer, and Joel grins. “Only if it ain’t too much trouble, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that Southern drawl, and suddenly you feel all your earlier desire to head home evaporate like a creek in the summertime. You assure him it’s fine; and with both puppies soon under your arms with practiced ease, you head over to the meadow, Joel and Sarah in tow.

You find you hit it off with him instantly; first asking the important questions such as their living situation, if they’ve owned a dog before, or if they have any other pets at home. “Quite the questionnaire, darlin’,” he chuckles lowly, arms folded over his chest as you both watch Sarah giggling, legs crossed in the sunshine as the puppies climb all over her. He, in turn, takes it upon himself to ask you how long you’ve worked here, what it is you enjoy about it the most. Realising you’re here for the long haul - and not being one bit mad about it - you gesture Joel to sit at a bench with you; averting your eyes when his thighs stretch over the wood opposite you. Get it together.

“Sarah certainly seems to be a dog lover,” you smile to distract yourself, and Joel hums his agreement. “Would you be prepared to take on a puppy?”, you ask. “I’m sure you’re aware, but they do require extensive training - potty, obedience and socialisation.” Joel raises his eyebrows then, biting back a smile. “Ya think I’m gonna be able to walk away from here without one?” he says, indicating the scene before you both. “Just more questions I have to ask,” you tease lightly. Joel shrugs in defeat; rolling his shoulders, your eyes drawn to the sliver of chest hair peeking at you next to the buttons on his shirt. Stop, you remind yourself for the third time.

“It’s Sarah’s birthday soon, and I wanted to make this one special for her,” he confesses, and you hate to say it, but it needs to be done. “Joel.. Can I be frank?” you start, and those eyebrows are raised again. “I thought ya already told me your name, back there,” he points back towards the shelter, trying not to grin. “Funny,” you admit, before pressing on. “We have a lot of families coming through here; wanting to make a birthday or a Christmas special. I’m not doubting your commitment, but I’ve seen too many dogs dumped back at the shelter with little to no explanation after the excitement wears off,” you say, watching Loki snooze on Sarah’s knee whilst Thor tries to pull at the laces on her sneakers.

“Can you see where I’m coming from?” you ask tentatively; hoping not to come off as a total asshole to this man for more reasons than one. Joel exhales heavily, a calloused hand coming up to scrub over his face. He follows your gaze towards his daughter; and it’s then that you notice the true adoration in his eyes - he looks tired; exhausted, even - but the love there. Jeez. It’s really something. It makes you think of the opposite you saw in your own father: a dark road you’d rather not go down.

He begins to tell you it’s the first birthday since Sarah’s mom died after a short illness. They were divorced, but had joint custody, Joel mostly taking over on weekends. He’s trying to nail the whole solo parenting thing - trying, but feeling like he’s failing. He admits regretting not asking his late ex-wife so many things; how to care for their daughter’s hair full time, how to manage to get her to school and then to soccer practice without being late, how to essentially keep her alive, happy, safe. It’s then that you stop him; a gentle hand on his forearm. “I’d say you’re already doing better than you think,” you offer, not shy of your smile this time.

“I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all of this,” he admits, “ya must just have that kinda face.” And you tell him it’s true; your grandmother always said you were an old soul, with a face people just wanted to open up to with no preamble, no filter. Maybe that’s why you and Mo get along so much, you ponder for a moment. “My mom died, too,” you say quietly, Thor having wandered over to the two of you, sniffing round Joel’s boots before slumping belly-up in the shade. “My dad - he, uh, he wasn’t so great. And not in the way you think you’re not great. He truly was the definition of an asshole,” you try not to shiver, despite the cloudless blue sky above you.

“‘m sorry that happened to ya,” Joel mutters, eyes on his knuckles as they flex instinctively. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “was a long time ago. I had my grandma, we did just fine. If you want my take.. There’s so many lousy parents in this world, and it’s better to have been loved fully, despite the loss that can and will come, than never at all,” you surmise; nodding your head toward his daughter, flat on her back in the grass with Loki on her chest, her eyes closed in a picture of perfect peace. The sight makes you smile.

When you turn to face Joel, you find him looking at you intently, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. It’s covered in scars; some faded with time, others fresher, just scabbing over. “I’m gonna ask ya for two chances,” he says, full bottom lip between his teeth. Your head cocks to one side, interest suitably piqued. “Is that so?” you ask, a fluttering in your chest that you can’t quite seem to stall. He nods, and you roll your eyes, biting back a laugh. “One,” he begins, “you give us a shot at this adoption. That girl needs someone else around who ain’t her daddy, and I promise ya I’d do right by that dog,” he points over to Sarah and Loki; his daughter whispering conspiratorially in the puppy’s ear. “I do think we have a winner there,” you admit, hands up in defeat.

“Two,” Joel continues, “could I ask ya on a date, darlin’? Assumin’ you’re not spoken for?” he asks, quieter than before. Almost.. shyly. It seems strange; like a skin he wants to shed, only used to being the most commanding person in the room. “Ya know, to keep an eye on our progress ‘n everythin’,” he adds quickly, before you can open your mouth. You feel your belly squirming at the idea of seeing this man again; your gaze drawn once more to his hands as they brace against the bench, wondering how they’d feel if he cupped your face between them right before he kissed you, then splayed against your ribcage, thumbs just brushing the underside of your breasts..

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice jolts you from your reverie, “ya can say no to me, but ‘m afraid you’ll have to be the one tellin’ her,” he whispers, Sarah ambling over to join you both, puppy asleep in her arms. “Do I need to give him back now?” she asks politely, her daddy’s brown eyes blinking at you earnestly. “No, I believe he’s yours to keep, after we do some paperwork,” you grin, “but I might stop by soon to see how he’s getting on. Would that be okay?” you ask, and her face opens up like a butterfly, elation sewn into her features. “Yeah, that would be okay,” she muses shyly as she falls into Joel’s side. He wraps an arm around her, and presses a kiss to her hair. He winks at you, then; and you have a feeling both chances will end up coming good.

#ahhhhhh omg #anyway #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #sarah miller fanfic #sarah miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction

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layton-heritage-posts · 9 months

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Good Morning, Good Day, Good Evening or, if you're sleep schedule is as horrid as mine, good night! LHP here, and I'm happy to say that we just got some

BREAKING LAYTON NEWS!

As you all probably remember, it has already been confirmed that Level-5 will be at the Tokyo Game Show this year, and that we will get updates on Professor Layton and the New World of Steam. After they fed us these crumbs we finally have an actual schedule for what we can expect and when we can expect it!

Here you can see the complete schedule for all of Level-5 presentations during the TGS. It seems like we’ll be getting Layton stuff on three separate occasions, one on the 23th and two on the 24th September! I’ll be going over what we know of each of these presentations so far now, but before I’ll do that, please keep in mind that mistranslations are not unlikely and that you can check out these posts for yourself here, here aaaand here.

With that out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff!

23.09, 12:45 - 13:25 JST:

First up we have something titled: “How to make a memorable mystery game” where it seems like Akihiro Hino, with Kazutaka Kodaka as his guest, will talk about both of their respective games, probably making a deep dive into the behind the scenes part of game making and the process of creating a good mystery game.

Kazatuka Kodaka is known for both the Danganronpa Series and his more recent game Raincode, so it definitely will be interesting to see these two talk about their experiences.

Next up:

24.09, 10:30-11:00 JST:

This one is titled “Professor Layton explanation special”, this time having Fujikawa Q as a guest.

Fujikawa has stated that he is a big fan of the Layton series and wanted to talk about what makes the series so great and why it has a special charm. Interesting here is that it is supposed to be in the form of a quiz in which both the viewers and the visitors can participate so you know I’ll definitely watch that so I can once again proof my completely healthy and normal obsession with these games.

And last but by god not least we have:

28.09, 12:35 - 13:00 JST:

“Professor Layton x QuizKnock Puzzle Stage”, featuring two people from QuizKnock, the new group behind the puzzles of this game. These two guests are Kurari P and Masaaki Yamamoto, and like before they once again plan to let both Viewers and visitors participate in here.

But now here’s one last gold nugget of information. Level-5 said that they might release a Video that’s a must see for Layton fans. And if that doesn’t get you at least a little bit excited I don’t know what will.

#breaking Layton news #Professor Layton #not a heritage post #god I’m late with this one sorry #I really hope no one has beat me to it so far

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arteastica · 5 months

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (23)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.5k

“C-commander, you’re going to make me c-come.” You warned for the last time before letting yourself go. Where? Well, that was for him to decide, because your legs had stopped responding a long time ago. But you didn’t need them anyway; with his nails buried in your back and his dick, deep between your legs, you weren’t going anywhere. At least not anywhere he didn’t decide.

Like a starved soul waiting to be spoon-fed, you opened your mouth wide, a silent moan escaping your lips as you were about to taste the sweet orgasm he had so prettily gift-wrapped for you. Indulgent like thick cocoa in oversized cups, comforting like cinnamon upon custard, forbidden like molasses at midnight, or messy like melting ice cream dripping down your fingers. What would he taste like today?

You would’ve found out, if only he had stayed.

Because, without allowing time for confusion or emptiness to happen, he pulled out, slipped his arm under your waist, and turned you around, making you sit back up on the desk, where you finally came eye to eye with him, and the sweaty streaks of sunshine sticking to his forehead despite the unforgiving temperatures lurking outside your window.

His breathing was labored and ragged, like an elaborate quilt. Warm. Homelike. Handmade. But that was something you both had in common. Your chests, rising and falling against each other; your faces, so close you were stealing each other’s oxygen; his lips, hovering over yours, reminding you of butterflies fluttering around a marigold garden; making you realize how long it had been since the last time you kissed; and your folds, desperately dripping and clenching around the overwhelming emptiness, reminding you of how ready you were for that to change.

You lifted a hand up to his face, pulling him closer; your eyes staring into his, blue like the sky after a storm.

Or perhaps, the storm was just on its way.

Strong arm still wrapped around your waist, he smoothly glided back into you; his lush eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging slightly open, as your walls squeezed his swollen member. Suffocating him. Just the way he liked it.

Feeble, sheepish whimpers escaped your lips at the gentle intrusion. As gentle as the raindrops now tapping on the window, announcing the last rainfall of the winter.

Or maybe, the first one of the spring.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted against your lips, before finally closing the distance between you.

And even if he hadn’t spelled out the words for you, you could taste them in his kiss. You could taste it all, even though the tea you had prepared for him remained untouched at the other end of the desk. You could taste the lemon, bitter like regret, yet also fresh like new beginnings. And there was also the honeycomb, nostalgic like a sunset, yet sweet like the waltz your tongues were dancing inside your mouth. A slow, gentle waltz under the rain. His tongue, in perfect synchrony with whatever magic his dick was performing inside you, making you moan against his lips, just in case he didn’t know how good he was making you feel.

And the sensation of your mouth stuffed with his tongue and your pussy, with his cock, quickly became too overwhelming for your poor body to bear; your insides crumbling like sand as a sinking feeling took over. Not the type that precedes a bad day however, but the floaty, funny type you always experienced when jumping from treetops during ODM practice. And even though you were perfectly safe there, held in place by his arm around your waist, and your legs around his hips, you felt like you were free-falling, plummeting down into something unknown. And like so, you pulled away, deciding to wrap your arms around his neck instead, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, where you felt the safest.

“Me too.” You whispered against the damp collar of his shirt. “I promise there’s no one else, Erwin.” Finally able to lay your worries down on his chest, as you let your weight fall against him. “Only you.” And you felt his grip tighten at your words, bringing you impossibly closer to him. “Yes, I’m yours. Only yours. A-always yours.” You repeated over an over, answering the question his cock was relentlessly asking, as it stabbed you repeatedly. “I belong to you and no- no one else mmmhh~ I don’t want anyone else inside me but you.” You closed your eyes, now saturated with tears, not knowing if it was because of how much you missed him, or because of how big he was.

But whatever the reason, your words caused his thrusts to hasten, and his nails to bury even deeper in the thick flesh around your hips, burning your skin like the hot iron they use to mark animals. And you called his name for good measure, just in case he needed further confirmation that you were his. You called his name as repeatedly as the drops falling from the sky outside. You called his name as fireworks exploded all over your body; your back arching against the muscular arm he kept around you, your head thrown all the way back, and your breasts in full display, like a ceremonial feast offered to a king.

And when your muscles stopped spasming, you collapsed on him, desperately gasping for air against his neck, as if you had just come back to life after almost drowning. And you honestly didn’t know if the moisture on his shirt was coming from his skin or your eyes.

While your forehead took a much needed rest against his shoulder, you looked down to find him still buried into you, your sweet nectar spilling out of your hole, dripping down his thighs like honey, messily sliding down the glossy wood of his desk.

And you looked up at him through heavy eyelids, a fucked out smile on your lips, silently asking if he too found it beautiful, the mess you had created. And this time, for the first time in days, he smiled too. His hand temporarily leaving the abused skin of your hips to tuck sweaty strands behind you ear.

Please fuck me again.

“Please stay.” You requested softly, clenching around him, hoping he wouldn’t pull out. Hoping things would stay as they were right now. Between the two of you. Trapped in your little bubble. His eyes like the clear sky reflected in a stream, like gentle sun rays tickling your skin, on a Sunday morning, just a little before noon.

I love you. Your lips quivered, tempted to let the words spill. I love you, Commander. But you didn’t want the bubble to burst. You wanted to stay forever trapped inside with him. Together. As one.

I love you, Erwin.

“Please keep making love to me.”

I love you so much.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips just as his hips started to move again. Unhurriedly, gently, indulgently. Like stirring thick cocoa together, by the kitchen window, on a snowy night.

You held his face as he sucked on your bottom lip, as his tongue savored all his favorite flavors on yours, as his lips condensed a million thoughts into a moment. And not long after, when the pace of his thrusts hastened again, you pulled away, not wanting to miss a second of his face when he came, something so captivating and artistic it belonged in a museum. Truly a masterpiece. His temples covered with salty dew as he panted for air, forehead resting against yours. And you had never been this grateful for the unforgiving training that scouts had to go through. You had never been this grateful for that early morning run he never skipped. Because there was no doubt in your mind that he could fuck you all night long. You had no stamina left, but he did, and that’s all that mattered. After all, his body was the one doing all the hard work, and yours just needed to bounce and react.

“Command-”

“I missed you.” As breathless as you currently were, your heart couldn’t afford the luxury of skipping a beat. Yet it did, your entire body choosing to stay silent, just in case he said it again. Because, the thing is, you really needed to hear those three words again. From those very lips that were now hovering over yours. “I missed you so bad.” He ran his thumb across your cheek, his touch as soothing as the gentle breeze from a faraway childhood summer. “Those days were the worst.” He paused, intently scanning your features as if carving them inside his memory. “Realizing I was no longer on the receiving end of that smile.” His thumb found your bottom lip, and caressed it gently. “Asking myself if I was losing you every time you closed the door behind you.”

“Erwin.” His sweet name on your lips, and salty droplets on your eyes. “I want to be with you.”

Forever. You added in your head, remembering the cabin in the woods. By the stream, a faraway windmill as your closest neighbor, the climbing hydrangea guarding the door, and the stepping stones leading up the hill, where the sycamore was always waiting, in front of the snow-capped mountains, the wooden swing below and its musical creak, its only company. Forwards, backwards, forwards and then backwards again. Never getting tired. And neither do you. But how could you? Waking up next to him every day, his bare back beneath the morning light; and making love, your only plan for the weekend. And if it only existed in a fantasy, why could you describe it in such detail? If it wasn’t in your future, then why could you see it all? Smell it all. Hear it all.

Feel it all.

“So do I.” He answered, his eyes like a sunlit lake, and his eyebrows like the evergreen foliage surrounding it.

“Erwin.” You used his name again, as if it was a promise; your voice impossibly breathy as his hips continued its satisfying dance, that by now had grown more and more erratic, telling you that it was near. You could tell, even if words didn’t forecast it: The cloudburst about to happen between your legs.

He buried his nails even deeper in the abused flesh of your hips, presumably looking for some form of stability as his movements became more and more unsteady. And he was so hard it must hurt. So hard you had to stare, not wanting to miss a second of that spectacular finale: his rich, indulgent cream, the sweet result of your lovemaking, a recipe you had created together, splattering everywhere like fresh paint once he pulled out.

But the thing is, he wasn’t pulling out. You looked back up at him, searching for an explanation, not wanting to get your hopes up, since you didn’t know how ephemeral his mistake would be. But it didn’t look like a mistake. Not when he was staring at you like that, so intently, as if he was fully aware of his actions.

You looked down again. He was going to come; there was no doubt. You felt it inside, and it would happen any time now.

“You look the prettiest when you’re happy.” He said all of a sudden, his voice a mixture of grunts and labored breaths, and his lips curving into the sweetest smile he had given you yet. And maybe it was that, or the window behind him, or the fact that it had also been raining back then, but your mind traveled to the very first day you met. So many nights ago. He had told you to come in, and then apologized for how boring and repetitive your days were about to get. All while smiling, just like today.

Oh, if only you knew back then.

“I want to make you happy.” He said, his eyes wrapping your naked body like the softest of silks, and his smile feeling like a promise, one you couldn’t wait to kiss.

“You already do.” You replied, voice filled with sweet adoration, just mere seconds before he collapsed on you, forehead resting against your shoulder, as you ran soothing fingers through his hair, completely drenched, almost as if he had been fucking you under the pouring rain instead.

I love you. “You did so well for me.” You whispered against his forehead, holding him like you wished you could for the rest of your days, and closed your eyes, enjoying the tickling of his breath against your neck, as well as that of his warm cream sliding down your belly. Someday, maybe in the not so distant future, it would be inside instead.

Or maybe not.

But you didn’t feel like entertaining uncertainty tonight. Not when you finally had him in your arms like this.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and the words tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. His fingertips were drawing soothing patterns on the tender flesh of your hips, but the tone of his voice told you that bruises and hickeys weren’t the only thing he was apologizing about.

“Erwin, I swear there’s nothing between him an-”

“Shhh.” He hushed you softly, leaving his comfortable spot on the crook of your neck so he could look into your eyes. His cheeks were so red, perhaps from being under the sun all day. But you liked to think it was from fucking you so hard just moments ago. “It was never your fault, yet I blamed you for it without even asking you first.”

“You can ask me now.”

“You already gave me your answer.” He smiled, and even though you still wondered what had led him to believe there was something between you and Leon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight and pushing the question to the back of your mind. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against his shoulder. Maybe you could try asking him again some other time.

“I’m sorry too.” You said, and even though you were only wearing your underwear, in his embrace, you had no complaints about the cold. “For pulling away all of a sudden, for leaving you in the dark.”

“You can tell me now.”

“Not now.” But maybe some other time. Because, like you said, you didn’t feel like bursting the bubble with your explanations and concerns.

And maybe you were on the same page, because he didn’t pry any further. Instead, he silently caressed your bruised hips and thighs. “I promise I’ll be more gentle next time.”

Next time. You liked that. You liked how those words sounded on his lips.

You took a look at the red skin his fingertips were tracing, skin that would surely be turning purple in the coming days, and smiled teasingly, realizing you hadn’t felt playful in a long time, so the feeling was as foreign as it was welcome. “I guess someone did miss me, after all.”

“You have no idea.” He replied, wistfulness in his words, as you pulled him back to your chest.

next chapter

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