#A HUNDRED ON THE DASH… GET ME CLOSE TO GOD

[stuckinapril]

i hate it when a song is mostly ass but it has those 15 seconds of pure bliss that makes enduring the whole thing worth it. why must there always be suffering before pleasure

[livwritessometimes]

Starboy - Lando Norris

: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

: Y/N and Lando celebrate his first win

: author’s note: I just couldn’t help myself! I had to write about Lando’s win 🏆 enjoy <3

: Masterlist

…

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User48 and 24,020 others

| User48 replied to your story

-> omggg yesss need a lando P1 🏆

*liked by Yourname*

landonorris added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 97,037 others

| Yourname replied to your story

-> 🧡

*liked by landonorris*

Yourname added to their story!

(No body talk to me right now! I feel like my heart will fall out of my ass)

seen by User02 and 45,920 others

| User02 replied to your story

-> YESS LANDOOO IF HE WINS ILL SHAVE MY HEAD 🪒👩🏻‍🦲

Yourname: girl wha- 😭😭 understandable ✊🏻

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User50 and 52,307 others

| User50 replied to your story

-> I’m gonna name my future child Lando Miami! Now I just need to get pregnant

Yourname: I-😃

landonorris added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 142,802 others

| Yourname replied to your story

-> so proud of you baby 🧡

*liked by landonorris*

liked by Yourname and 320,528 others

👤: mclaren

landonorris: We Did It 🏆

view all 98,525 comments

mclaren: LET’S GO LANDOOOO

*liked by landonorris*

Yourname: AHHHHHHHHH IM SO PROUD OF YOU 🫂🫂🫂🫂

-> landonorris: your support means everything 🧡🧡

-> Yourname: baby 🥺🥺 (also you have a lot of weird fans)

-> landonorris: It’s okay baby ik just look the other way 😌

maxverstappen1: Tonight we celebrate like champions!!

* liked by Yourname, kellypiquet*

-> landonorris: you know it mate

liked by kellypiquet and 75,201 others

👤: landonorris, mclaren

Yourname: Lando Nowins sorry don’t know him! So Proud of you my Papaya Boy 🧡

view all 62,437 comments

User52: Yesss queen tell them haters off 💅🏻

landonorris: Love you sweetheart 💕

*liked by Yourname*

mclaren: Yess let’s goooo 🏆 (don’t tell anyone but y/n was 🤏🏻 close to pulling a toto wolff 2021 at the garage today! It’s ok our headphones are safe 🤭)

-> Yourname: admin this was supposed to be a secret 🙂🙂

-> User57: hahahah not the admin outing y/n

liked by User98 and 21,683 others

Wagupdates: Lando Norris and Y/n L/n were seen leaving the stadium today. Fans claim the two were very touchy as they made their way towards their car.

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Yourname added to their story!

seen by landonorris and 42,652 others

| landonorris replied to your story

-> 🖤🍷

liked by Yourname and 632,120 others

👤: Yourname

landonorris: You talking ‘bout me, I don’t see the shade 🕶️

view all 314,268 comments

Yourname: 💋🙌🏻

*liked by landonorris*

User71: omggg that’s so cute they’re having date night before celebrating his win 🥹🥹

User03: ok I can see where your hands are Lando 👀 you’re not fooling anyone

liked by landonorris and 76,402 others

👤: landonorris

Yourname: My back arched like a cat, my position couldn’t stop you were hitting it 🐈‍⬛

view all 69,382 comments

landonorris: star girl ♣️

*liked by Yourname*

kellypiquet: gorgeous gorgeous girl 💫

-> Yourname: umm have you seen yourself in the mirror 🙇🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: there are children here 😃

-> Yourname: let them also learn 🤟🏻😌

-> maxverstappen1: i-🫠

francisca.cgomes: Mother 🥵

-> Yourname: Kikaaaaaa 🫂🤭

-> francisca.cgomes: ahhh can’t wait to meet you 💕

-> landonorris: but she’s mine for another hour so back off 😚

-> francisca.cgomes: damn Norris take your time 🕰️🫡

User50: not Lando having a beef with Kika over y/n 😭😭

liked by Yourname and 824,039 others

👤: Yourname, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1, pierregasly

landonorris: A hundred on the dash, get me close to God. We don't pray for love, we just pray for cars 🏎️

view all 329,104 comments

User02: Ohh wait till y/n sees the caption!

Yourname: hmm ok then

-> landonorris: baby just using the lyrics! nothing else <3

-> Yourname: You better pray for love tonight...who knows if you'll get it or not 👀

-> landonorris: Yes ma'am 🫡

danielricciardo: It was my fault I opened Instagram! should’ve just jumped off a cliff 🙂

-> charles_leclerc: +1

-> maxverstappen1: +1

-> maxfewtrell: +1

-> oscarpiastri: +1

-> georgerussell63: +1

-> lewishamilton: +1

-> fernandoalo_oficial: +1

-> carlossainz55: +1

-> alex_albon: +1

-> pierregasly: +1

-> landonorris: HATERS! each and every single one of you!! 🫵🏻

*liked by Yourname*

liked by landonorris and 92,349 others

👤: landonorris, kellypiquet, francisca.cgomes

Yourname: Dance the night away, grab somebody, drink a little more 🥂

view all 63,926 comments

landonorris: The only person who you should grab is ME! 😤

-> landonorris: wait that came out wrong

-> alex_albon: you think 😃

francisca.cgomes: Dance the night away 💃🏻

-> kellypiquet: live your life and stay young on the floor 🪩

-> Yourname: lalalalallallalalal 🎵

maxverstappen1: and that’s enough drinking for you ❌

-> Yourname: buzzkill 🐝

-> francisca.cgomes: +1

-> kellypiquet: +1

-> maxverstappen1: i- KELLY 🥲

-> landonorris: haha 🤣

-> maxverstappen1: oh you better watch your back Norris

-> landonorris: 😳

liked by User51 and 21,304 others

👤: landonorris, Yourname

F1newsupdates: Lando Norris and girlfriend, Y/n L/n, were caught by fans, who claimed things were getting quite serious in the backseat. This photo comes after the couple was seen celebrating Norris’s first win with friends and fellow drivers, including Verstappen and Gasly. Don’t know about you, but Lando Norris is definitely in for a good night!

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Yourname added to their story!

seen by landonorris and 50,628 others

| landonorris replied to your story

-> 🙈

Yourname: 🫶🏻🤭

liked by Yourname and 429,638 others

👤: Yourname

landonorris: Can’t keep my hands to myself (I mean I could, but why would I want to 🤤)

view all 184,593 comments

Yourname: 🙈🙈

-> Yourname: also he did Infact miss his flight!

-> landonorris: oops? 😅

-> mclaren: 🤦🏻‍♀️

francisca.cgomes: @/pierregasly how come you never paint my nails 🤔

-> pierregasly: Pulling out all the supplies right now!! 🫡

User72: not Pierre getting attacked out of the blue 😂😂

*liked by Yourname*

liked by landonorris and 82,932 others

👤: landonorris

Yourname: Little Lando Norris is not as little as you might think 😉

view all 63,926 comments

danielricciardo: umm ya guys so I’m gonna do delete Instagram! It was fun while it lasted ✌🏻

-> charles_leclerc: +1

-> maxfewtrell: +1

→ oscarpiastri: +1

→ georgerussell63: +1

→ lewishamilton: +1

→ fernandoalo_oficial: +1

→ carlossainz55: +1

→ alex_albon: +1

→ pierregasly: +1

-> landonorris: HATERS! you guys just can’t see me happy ✋🏻😤

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

"I Do"

Synopsis: You and Simon get married.

Warnings: Tears, swearing, fluff

A/N: don't mind me writing yet another Simon fluff. I'm addicted😭😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon took a deep breath and closed his eyes to try to calm his nerves. Johnny, who was standing beside him, patted him on the back.

"You ready, mate?" He asked his friend, flashing his signature MacTavish smile. 

Simon nodded his head, and started to shift back and forth on his feet. 

"Not getting cold feet are you?" Johnny chuckled, taking in the groom's nervousness. 

"What? God, no. I'm- I'm nervous." Simon looked abashed at his friend's comment. "I just want to see her." 

He looked around to the friends and family who were taking their seats, and this helped calm him. 

The two of you wanted a relatively small wedding, as neither of you were very big on crowded places or big events. It was just a few family and friends, and the location was a small floral garden in the outskirts of Manchester. 

He looked back at Johnny who was still watching him, and smiled. He'd asked the Scot to be his best man, before he'd even asked you to marry him. He knew he wanted his friend to be right next to him, on the most important day of his life. 

Simon's thoughts were cut short at the sound of the music starting, signaling your arrival. 

His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, and it took everything in him not to fall to his knees.

You had your hair up with a flower neatly tucked on the side. Your dress was modest, with a lace bodice and long train. You were stunning, and he'd thought you'd never looked more beautiful than you did in that moment. 

Price was walking you down the aisle, with a giant smile on his face. You lost your own father years ago, and John had been such a familial figure to you that you knew you wanted to ask him to do the honors. 

As you caught sight of your future husband, your hand, which was wrapped around Price's arm, tightened, and you felt yourself walking a bit faster. 

Simon felt tears prickling at his eyes, and he swallowed thickly as he tried to compose himself. 

You were no better, the moment being so surreal to you. Seeing the man you've loved for years, the man you were about to marry, looking incredibly dashing in his crisp gray suit.

The walk down the makeshift aisle felt like it lasted a century, and you and Price finally made your way to Simon. John kissed your forehead softly, and handed your hand to Simon. 

"You take good care of her, Simon." He warned, though the smile on his face said that he already knew he would. 

Simon nodded in reply, and turned his gaze to you. "Hi." His voice came out as a whisper, and a stray tear fell down his cheek.

"Hi." You smiled, and bit your lip softly. 

"You look so fucking beautiful, sweetheart." He raked his eyes down the length of your body, taking in every inch of your appearance.

"And you look so bloody handsome." You beamed, squeezing his hand. 

"Everyone, please be seated!" Your childhood friend, Trevor, called out. He was acting as the wedding officiant, something he told you he'd wanted to do for you since you were kids. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Simon Riley and Y/N Y/LN."

The words of your friend fell on deaf ears, as you lost yourself in Simon's eyes. He was looking back at you with such raw emotion, a look unlike you'd ever seen before. 

The two of you lost track of time as you continued staring at each other lovingly, only stopping when Trevor turned to address Simon. 

"Simon? Your vows."

Simon broke eye contact with you, as he moved to grab the sheet of paper he kept tucked in his breast pocket. You could see his hands shaking slightly from nerves as he unfolded the sheet. 

He cleared his throat, and gave you a loving glance before folding the paper back up and putting it in his pocket once more.

"I wrote my vows about a hundred times trying to find what I wanted to say. But as I'm standing here, I realized that I don't need what's written on a piece of paper to tell you what I feel." Simon took a deep breath before continuing. "Y/N. You are my everything. You were the one to show me that life is, in fact, worth living, no matter what I've been through. You've been the light in my darkness, my beacon of hope. You've thawed out this cold heart that I thought couldn't ever feel love again. I can only hope I can be a fraction of what you are to me, to you. If you'll let me, I vow to make you the happiest woman I can, for as long as we both live. I vow to be your protector, your lover, your friend, and whatever else you could ever need me to be. I love you more than you will ever know."

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you absorbed his words. In the years of being with him, he was never this open with you, so for him to say such words had your heart bursting. 

"Y/N, your vows?" Trevor looked at you, encouraging you to speak. 

You nodded as you moved to wipe away your tears. 

"Simon. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life. I couldn't have wished for a better partner in this world. I thank you for allowing me to show you the love you so greatly deserve. You are worth so much more than you could ever comprehend. I vow to always love you, through thick and thin. I vow to be the best wife, and partner I can be. And I vow to make you the happiest man I possibly can, for as long as we both shall live."

Simon choked back a small sob as he looked at you. Your words were beautiful, and he felt himself falling even deeper in love with you. It took everything in him not to kiss you then and there.

"Simon Riley, do you take Y/N, Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Trevor turned to Simon. 

Simon held your gaze as he replied "I do."

"Do you Y/N Y/L/N take Simon as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." 

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife. Simon, you may now kiss your bride."

Simon beamed down at you, with the biggest smile you'd ever seen on his face. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. 

Cheers erupted around you, as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment. From beside Simon, you could hear Johnny yelling, "Yeah! That's my boy!"

Pulling away, Simon kissed your nose lightly before saying, "Hello, Mrs. Riley."

"Hello, husband." You whispered back, your smile growing. 

Simon took your hand, and the two of you made your way back down the aisle, passing all of your friends and family shouting good wishes at you. As you walked away from the venue, Simon squeezed your hand lovingly. The two of you exchanged a warm glance, before heading off to start your forever together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: like Simon with his vows, I rewrote this thing like 100 times😭😅

[pursuitseternal]

A “Mistrial” with a happy ending (literally and smutty): Modern Faerûn AU Astarion x Tav (reincarnation) ⚖️

Astarion x F!Tav | E | 4.9k sex, modern convenience

Summary: Back in the penthouse, Astarion and Tav find happy ending… after happy ending… after happy ending💞

CW: Astarion is a mess and so is his place, cunnilingus on the counter, shower sex, male receiving oral sex, post-coital care bath, Astarion’s microwave is his favorite invention, happy endings forever.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 2…

⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️

“Gods,” Tav groaned as the elevator door closed at last. The second they were alone, riding up to his suite, he was on her. Just like old times. Thigh pressed between her legs, her hips grinding furiously for relief, craving more of him inside her. His lips consumed her own, that cold, caressing palm cupping her chin. His fangs nipped and caught her lips, little drags of their sharp points bringing just a hint of coppery blood to tease both their tongues.

Then, it dinged, sliding doors opening to his private penthouse. His arms swept her up like some bride from the magazines, carrying her into the inner gloom of his place.

With haste, he made his way in the dark, setting her down on some plush, velvety couch. Instantly crushing her beneath his wiry frame.

Even her dark vision struggled to make out the details, as if he pinned her down to keep from looking. She chuckled, suspicions raised. “Astarion….” she rasped into his kiss.

But he just kept kissing her, working on those stubborn little buttons of her shirt again.

Ignoring her.

“Astarion,” she said louder, a hand pressing on his chest. “Why won’t you turn on your lights?”

“Hmm?” he slowed just a bit as he kissed her, keeping his hips pressing his erection hard into her mound. A little faster grinding into her. Eager to pull her back under his spell. “Can’t seem to hear you over that wet cunt of yours…”

Tav gave him a humored shake of her head, wrapping her thighs around him, shoving his face with both her hands. “Earn it, my love,” she laughed, fighting against him. “I’m hungry, I need to wash myself and use your… facilities…”

“Fine,” Astarion groaned, one last grind between her legs, “if you want to get up and leave all this…” Another thrust for good measure.

“I’m sure,” she laughed, giving a buck of her hips to match him. “Let me eat and drink and… relieve myself and I’ll be ready for more all night long.”

He groaned, rolling his crimson eyes, “Bathing chamber is to the left, kitchen just over there, but I’m afraid you’ll find my stores… lacking.”

Tav slid herself free, giving his pouting lips a little placating kiss and giving his cold cheek a little pat. “Good boy,” she purred, “you won’t regret it.”

“Pretty sure I’m about to,” he cringed as she stood. Even in the dark, her elf eyes could see… everything.

“Hells bellow,” she whined and shook her head. “Astarion, you… pig.”

His grimace only grew deeper as he turned to look at her. At her own shocked gaze.

Clothes scattered, books and magazines and empty blood bottles across the floor and chairs and tables. Scraps of paper and cheap trashy novels… law books from a hundred years ago, potion bottles…

“Worse. It’s worse,” she shook her head. But then, she flashed him a sultry smirk. “Good thing you have me back, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he purred, standing from the couch, stretching as if he didn’t have an agonizingly hard erection almost popping out from his pants.

The second the door to his bathing room shut, he raced to his bedroom. A disaster, just like he had been especially these last few centuries. He quickly pushed piles of clothes under his bed, kicking them roughly, not even separating dirty from clean. He grabbed the arm-load of filthy, bloody cups from his end table, dashing to his kitchen to the already overflowing sink.

Hells, he was a mess. Just like when he first stumbled into her path next to that crash site.

And just like last time, his heart thawed, and he would get his life back in order. He glanced towards the sounds of her washing up across the room, debating how much time he had to make any effort to be presentable.

Do the dishes… check the fridge…. No. Make his bed as decent as possible. As pleasurable as possible.

He hurried back down the hall and into his room, stuffing his dresser drawers shut and stacking the random piles of books across the floor.

“You don’t need to hide it now, Astarion,” her voice purred from the door, “it’s not like I don’t know who you are… who you always have been. You may be work, my love, but it’s… pleasurable work.”

He turned slowly from where he crouched at the foot of his bed. A groan released from his throat at the sight of her—just her crisp, white button down, gaping open at the top to let her breasts swell from the opening. And those long, bare naked legs, he scanned them as he swallowed, standing as he hoped his cock hadn’t pressed his zipper open yet. He could see the little curve of her mound peeking from the hem.

“Like what you see?” she gave that sultry grin, her eyes hazy, begging him to come closer. To touch her.

To fuck her.

“Most definitely, darling,” he rasped as he crossed to grab her in his arms. But her hand stopped his mouth, freezing him on the precipice of taking what was his again.

“Tch, down boy,” she gave a little purse of her lips. “I ordered some food delivered… for me at any rate since I’m the only meal you’ll need now.”

A little whimper escaped his mouth from under her touch. Even as his hands wrapped beneath the hem of her shirt to grab those warm, rounded cheeks of her ass.

She held up her little phone, “Found a place online that makes my favorite dishes and they deliver and… before you get too nervous, I told them to hold the garlic.”

Astarion laughed as he pushed her into the hall, fingers lifting the dimmer on his lights to bathe his large, if messy, penthouse. Even cluttered, it was nothing to turn a nose up at, Tav assessed, keeping her jaw from dropping. “Sleek designs, top of the line brands…” she commented as she glanced around. “Clearly you have been doing well over the years, Astarion.”

“Financially, yes,” he preened a bit as he gave her that sidelong, desirous glance. “In every other way, I’m hoping I… improve… now that you’re… here.”

At that, Tav turned, eyes soft and kind and wet, raising herself on her bare feet to place a little kiss on his lips. Reassuring him. Loving him.

“Got anything to drink?” she whispered, a question far too mundane for the sensual tone that escaped her throat.

“The finest tap water Baldur’s Gate City has to offer?” he tried to match that lilt in her voice, even if his mind was wondering if he had any clean cups to offer as well.

She didn’t need to say a word as she crossed the room to the marble-topped island. Bared grey stone in every direction uncluttered, he watched her nod and smile as she looked around his kitchen. By far his cleanest and least used room.

But the approval instantly slimmed as she looked at his sink overflowing with used and bloodied cups. “Ummm, I know I once could wash blood from clothes and armor… but porcelain and stone might prove much harder,” she turned and smirked. Arms folded under her breasts to make them plump out all the more. Taunting him. “Once you decide to actually wash your dishes, I’d be happy to look online if you need…”

“No, no,” he grinned, trying so hard to recover some semblance of control. “After all, you’ve given me plenty of reason now to clear every surface in this place.” His face twisted into that ravenous smirk, his body drawing up to hers from behind as she looked into the sink, pressing his bulge into that bare cleft of her ass. “Clean enough to eat you off of…”

Tav groaned, bucking back slightly. “I think the phrase is just eat off of…” He eased enough for her to turn and give him all of her half-lidded hazy stare. “But I do prefer yours.”

Instantly, his hands gripped at her hips, heaving her to slide onto that cool smooth countertop. “I have always had a way with words, very skilled with my tongue, you know darling.”

Uhhh…. She let him bring her right to the edge of the island. The cold stone beneath her only made the heat between her thighs flame more. Even as he sank to his knees before her, her phone gave a little buzz. “It’s almost here… my food I mean…” but her voice was slick, her words stuck in the pool of lust that coated her throat and belly.

“Funny,” he pushed on her belly to make her recline just perfectly, “mine is already here.” Just a hint of a twist on his lips and a glint in his crimson eyes before he buried it all between her thighs. “Good thing I don’t care about messes, darling. You’re already just drenched for me…” he purred, letting his tongue barely dip between her splayed folds slowly. But at the moan that shuddered from above him, he held nothing back. Circling and sucking, he lapped her up greedily, as if he needed to keep every drop of her arousal from that stone top beneath her for himself.

Tav could have collapsed right then and there, sprawled over his kitchen like the meal she was for him. But it was too sexy a sight to neglect, the press of his nose as it disappeared between her legs, the silver mess of his curls she just had to grip as he ate every last corner of her cunt. Her body remembered it all, the little rolls of her hips in time with his tongue, the command of his hands parting her swollen lips to dive all the deeper…

The ancient dance between them, remembered at last. He was magic, true arcane power at the tip of his tongue as he caught her every burning nerve and flooded her with pleasure. She was lost, fed on and yet hungry herself, chasing the gnawing in her belly to find the fiery bliss that would spill into his mouth at last.

“Gods, my love,” she groaned, his fingers delving and pulling harder into her walls. “I’m… I’m…”

Her phone shook, vibrating on the stone beside her. An unknown number calling.

A rough, dark laugh in his throat, Astarion grabbed it from the counter and answered it. Nevermind the way her juices dripped from his chin. “Yes?” A pause as Tav buried her face in the palm of her hand to hide the egregious gasps that she was making. His eyes watched her anguish. Smirking at her agony. “Yes, the doorman will let you up.”

Click.

“Think I can make you finish before he gets here…?” Before she could pant a yes or no, his hands tore those buttons apart, sending little circles of plastic skittering loudly like rain over the marble. He dove back in, hungry and sloppy now. Voracious as he pumped his fingers and sucked her clit, he wouldn’t stop if that elevator opened and put them on full display.

Hundreds of years of barely touching another soul that wasn’t her, and all his skills came flooding back. The little way he let his fangs catch on her folds, the taste of dribbles of blood—its copper mixing with the salty tang of her arousal, it’s so devious. He couldn’t eat his fill any faster.

Her hand moved his head, goading him faster. Deeper. Shoving his nose hard into that apex of her mound. His cool breath tickled her clit as he rubbed its long point harder where she burned for more. “Close… hurry… so close…” she didn’t even need to take another breath before she erupted with a scream, his name on her lips.

Just then, the elevator dinged, so loud to her ears as she groaned, laying boneless and writhing still on his counter. But Astarion just giggled, wiping his chin on the corner of her shirt as he hurried to meet the delivery.

The poor boy’s blue eyes went wide as he braved the mess inside, distracted enough in that moment to miss the naked female strewn in his kitchen. Astarion reached into his pocket, grabbed the brown paper bag from the youth’s hand, and shoved the coin for 50 pieces into his palm. The boy’s eyes went somehow wider. That tip was earned just by him not uttering a sound, the vampire laughed as he watched the kid stare into his palm at the money until the doors shut.

Giggling, he returned to Tav’s side, her lithe form barely making progress past sitting up and rubbing her thighs together to stretch them out. “Oh my gods,” she laughed, short of air yet from her pleasure. “That was…”

“I’m glad you think so,” he smirked, setting down the bag within her reach. “Now, eat, darling…” he pulled out the plastic containers and utensils. “And, maybe, just maybe… you’ll allow me something warm and fresh as well?”

Her eyes glinted, mischievous, seductive. As if he needed any help making his cock even harder or wetter with those early drips of his seed. “As long as you don’t force me to make too much a mess… again…”

“I make no guarantees, darling,” and just like that he was back on his knees, mouth sucking on her salty thigh, bringing her blood to the surface just a bit before he…

“Mmmm,” Tav moaned as he finally bit. “Delicious.”

“Aren’t you just?” he purred against the warm softness of her skin before sucking a mouthful of her blood. She squirmed under his lips, her takeout growing decidedly colder, untouched the more he touched her.

Untasted the more he tasted her

“Suddenly not hungry?” he crooned, licking his lips as he pulled away, sated enough for now. At least in his belly if not other ways.

“Well…” she pressed her legs together again, sliding herself from the counter to land gracefully before him. “I was just thinking the food can wait… while you’ve waited hundreds of years, my love.”

His left brow arched so wryly, lips curling harder into that feral smirk. “And…?” he rasped. Goading. Prying. Leading her on.

“And… I don’t think I want to talk…” words that made him shiver with ancient recognition. “I am hungry… just not for food, anyway.”

“You dirty, little minx,” he purred, grabbing around her waist. “But look at the state of you, how can you tolerate such a sloppy mess down your legs, hmm? Does someone need to get cleaned up?”

“More tongue bath?” She practically mewled against his lips.

“I was thinking of traditional means, my darling. Why spend all this good coin on luxury when I’ve been alone? Why not... show it off for you, just a little.”

“I hope it’s cleaner than the rest,” she giggled, hand woven in his as he pulled her back towards his bedroom suite.

“Well, despite growing lax in many ways over the long grinding years…” he paused in the frame of the inner doorway, flicking on the softest of lights. “I have never once taken my grooming for granted. A well-presented face has always opened a lot of doors for me, darling.”

Tav froze at the wonder before her, at the floor to ceiling windows that held a sprawling view of the city, of sparkling lights in every direction, of sky high buildings and racing masses of people in every direction. Not that anyone could see all the way up here, his little slice of nowhere above them all. The bathing room itself was pristine, all chrome and glass and marble tiles. A massive walled shower to her left that butted up to the span of windows, a luxuriously deep tub cut so elegantly to her right. And everywhere, the finest soaps and washes and towels imaginable, all heady-scented and clean.

Just like him.

She turned, almost tearing up at how… him… it all was.

His face was like flint, flinching a bit, eyes sharp and mouth forced into a little nervous smile. “Well?” he prompted after clearing his throat.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, “just like you.” She crossed to the wall of glass, her gut dropping as she looked all the way down from such a height. “What do you do for privacy or if you should need to bathe on a sunny day?”

A flicker of his smirk on his face, and he reached to push a single button beside the door. Instantly the windows darkened to black. “Every amenity money can buy,” he purred before pressing it one more time to clear the glass once more. “But, for tonight, I’d like you to indulge in all the stimulation of your senses I can grant you.”

It was so easy to slip the remnants of her pristine shirt from her shoulders. She slid it so easily in retreat, her bare feet slapping on the tile as she made for the open door of the shower. Giving chase, hands busy tearing off his own clothes, he growled to see her already turning on the hot water, already having bubbles and drops streaming over her shoulders and down those perfect swells of her breast.

Making herself right at home…

On purpose.

And there it was, that sly, come-hither slink of her lips and bat of her eyes. Water sprayed off the wall, the vista of the metropolis sprawled beneath them as she pressed her hands against that window glass.

That pert little ass was on display, begging him to fuck her.

And Astarion didn’t need to be given permission twice. Droplets splashed down his back, steam caressing their faces even as her breath brought more moisture with her every exhale against the glass. “Please,” she moaned, a little wiggle of her cheeks enough to brush that perfect pink head of his cock as he closed in.

“Cheeky little pup,” he replied with a single laugh. His hands skated up her sides, reverent and tender. Until he reached those swaying breasts, one in each hand, gripping them greedily. So young, so lithe, she curled against him, arching to grind that rear against him, until his cock rubbed between her cheeks and the plane of his belly. Those fingers slipped over the wet trails on her belly, scoring oh so slightly over where she was burning.

Tav pressed her forehead against the cool glass, just trying to catch her breath. Moisture from her exhales painted the smooth surface before her, until her lungs locked up, just as his fingers slipped their coolness into her to flick over her clit. He touched her just a few times, just enough to get her legs spread and her ass sticking out more for him.

“Wetter than water, my darling,” he purred, sinking two and three fingers deep inside her cunt. “How delicious.”

Tav rolled her hips in time with his movements, her already swollen, sensitive nerves flaming under his cool caress. She would easily unravel in a moment… again.

“Wait,” she breathed, forcing her body to turn, no matter how bad she wanted for him to rut her into oblivion against the glass. Not yet. “You’ve been so good to me, Astarion, but I would hate for you to feel… neglected.”

“I am far from, my pet,” he crooned, taking the opportunity to trap her chin in one hand and press her flushed back against the window.

“Your bouncing, straining, weeping cock says otherwise,” she chuckled slowly, one hand barely brushing a single finger over his sticky slit to make it lurch hard at the touch.

He tried to swallow the grunt in his throat, but his body, so long starved of touch, betrayed him.

“Let me be good to you, Astarion,” she sweetly smiled, sinking on her knees to the sopping tile floor. “You haven’t had anyone to tend to you, it seems, for so long. Let me take care of you now.”

“Decades, centuries I’ve been on my own,” he whimpered as her lips just slightly drew that flushed pink head into her mouth. “Nothing came close to what I had, to how much I loved you, Tav.”

Her responding moan at his words rattled his teeth, vibrating down his shaft right to the base of his spine. Old habits reignited, his fingers spread into her damp locks, riding her head as she drew her mouth back and forth along his cock. Her own touch cradled him, pulling him closer with one hand on his ass. Making sure he kept himself going. “Gently,” he hissed as she sucked harder. Faster. Instantly, she obeyed, checking her own addiction for that salty taste and musky scent that transported her through time itself. “Good girl,” he groaned as that tongue began to take long, languorous licks down his shaft.

Shuddering, he needed to slow himself, having foregone the feeling of a tongue on his cock for so long. It would ruin him and ruin him quickly at this rate. And there was nothing he wanted more than to make that drenched cunt of hers all the more dripping once he came inside. A commanding tug in her hair, and she released; two fingers under her chin and he drew her to her feet once more.

Her lips quivered, all the pinker and fuller from their hard work. Running a thumb across them, he smirked all the more as her tongue darted out to lick its caress.

“Hungry?” he purred, leaning so close, his lips brushed her own, his thumb now pulling her chin to open that eager mouth.

“Ravenous,” she replied as she yanked him hard enough by his shoulders to make him crush her against that slippery glass. Her lips lashed to his, catching on his fangs with purpose to draw just a hint more of her blood. Fumbling as his fingers slipped on skin, he gripped at her leg until it wrapped tightly around his hips.

A growl in his throat, he guided his cock through her slick, hotter than the steaming water that trailed through the scars on his back. Just a little smile against her lips, and he sheathed himself once more. His head dropped to her shoulder, one hand pressed against the steaming window as he held nothing back now. Her nails dug into his back, cold sharp pain piercing the wash of warmth over his skin and around his cock.

The sloshing of water as the coupled, the sloppy pants he made as he pressed his head into her neck, noises echoed off the glass walls, but the only sound he could hear was wet slap after slap of his hips snapping against hers. “Darling,” he groaned, “you’re perfect… always have been…” he grunted as she arched just a bit more to have him fuck deeper, “…always will be.”

Little mewls escaped her, his fingers clawed hard into the crease of her thigh, his hand squeaking down the window as he began to lose control. His legs shook, her walls clenching hard as she arched against him one more. Those lithe fingers of hers slipped to his ass, holding hard and fast to steady herself as she rode his own thrusts through her haze of orgasm.

The way she trembled, clinging hard to him like he was the only thing in this life to keep her steady… that wash of connection, that intimacy he craved for so long… it swept him away, his whole body giving her everything. All the ache and numbness from the years alone washed in the warm flow of water.

There was only her now.

Every muscle went taught and he forgot to breathe as he fucked erratically into her. His vision swam in the wave of pleasure that consumed him, a swirl of wet and blinding dark as his face contorted in ecstasy. Pump and pump of his spend filling her again before it dripped down both their legs.

He couldn’t stand on his own two feet much longer, not with how he shook from exertion. But for her, he would make one last effort. He slipped from between her legs, hand turning the tap of the shower to stop the gentle flow of water. For her, he would steady his legs, scoop her in his arms, and caress her lips until he set her carefully in the deep white circle of his tub. He let the faucet run until they were both chest deep in bubbles and scented waters, surrounded by warmth. But there was nothing so comforting or delicious as the heat from her well-pleasured body as she cuddled into him.

Lights from the city sparkled, the best breathtaking view money could buy. But even such marvels paled in comparison to the lights dancing in her eyes, her gaze soft and sweeping over every detail of his face. Her hand stroked slowly up his cheek and into his hair.

Those crimson eyes closed, his face almost frowning, the sadness of centuries of isolation and heartbreak drained by each brush of her fingers across his soft, cold, and lustrous skin. She watched as a single tear gathered in the corner of his eye, but she didn’t say a word, sparing his pride as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Time slipped by, hardly noticed as they soaked in their love more than the waters, growing colder as their love flamed all the brighter.

Night had darkened, the waters now as chilling as his undead skin… and then Tav’s stomach rumbled so loudly, Astarion could only laugh quietly and stand from the tub, her hand cradled gently in his.

He took the fluffiest towel in his long, lithe hands and wrapped it around her back. A deep, contented sigh in his throat as she used it to slowly wipe those drops from her beautiful body. “Let’s go warm up your meal, darling,” he smiled so softly as he did the same before tucking the towel around his narrow waist. “I might have to wipe all the blood of Gale first….”

He started to leave the bathroom, Tav trailing after, wrapped snug as she frowned in tickled confusion. “G-Gale?” she stuttered as she followed him towards the kitchen.

Astarion drew up short, a bit shocked. “I’m… I’m sorry. I…” he gave the most sheepish, most embarrassed grin, hand sweeping through his damp locks to try and fluff them back up. “It’s been such a long time without… company, I took to calling the microwave… Gale…”

Tav gave a tickled, humored smirk. “Adorable. Because he makes sure your food is always warm?”

“And I can yell at him when it doesn’t work properly, yes,” he added, a rakish smirk twisting a bit as he grabbed a rag in his hand. He busied himself wiping off the largest splotches of brown from the inside of the chrome walls, watching from the corner of her eye as Tav retrieved her phone and smiled as she looked at its screen.

“I know that look,” he said, still fixing his gaze on his cleaning. “Tell me what’s caught your notice, checked your perception?”

She set the phone down and crossed quickly to hug him from behind. “I… I didn’t know… I didn’t think it would… happen. That any of,” she gestured to the room, to his half naked body wrapped tight in fluffy cotton, “this would happen.”

He turned, embracing her as she positively vibrated with something exciting. “Well?” he gave that single word its own tremor as he purred.

“When I was… assigned to this case in the City, I just… had a feeling. I applied at a firm here in town, to take a shot at moving and at being a prosecutor in Big Bad Baldur’s Gate City.” She was blushing, trying to hide her beautiful face against her shoulder.

His fingers wrapped around her chin, making her turn slowly to meet his gaze. “And?”

“I have an interview with them, two days from now…”

Astarion grinned widely, taking her container of food and tossing in his magic box to warm it. And then he grabbed her, to spin her around in joy. “Two days will be plenty, enough time for you to prepare and us to… reunite properly…”

“What about…?”

He silenced her with his lips, ignoring that hunger in his belly and groin for more of all she had to offer him. “Don’t you think twice about our silly little mistrial now. I’ll take the penalty, go on probation… I don’t care. The mistrial can be all my doing. I have more than enough coin for us to live in comfort for centuries, more than enough time to create a new, glowing reputation. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not wasting any time without you, my darling.”

Tav grinned into his kiss, his fangs tugging at her lips, but for once her hunger matched his own. Even still, even when the timer dinged as the scent of cooked food filled his penthouse for the first time ever, she couldn’t bear to break from that mouth, those hands.

Not now that they had each other once more.

[hanitos]

‧₊˚✩彡 Star Trek roof in that Wraith of Khan

Girls get loose when they hear this song

A hundred on the dash get me close to God 🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑

We don't pray for love, we just pray for cars

[seichira]

[ 12:35 ] — 20th midnight of october.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ your boyfriend comes home extremely late, after you specifically (and nicely) asked him earlier this morning not to be.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ some fluffy short scenario for rindou’s birthday!

with freezing hands caused by the intense cold winds outside, rindou haitani turns the doorknob to your shared apartment to finally get some heat in his system and cuddle up to his beautiful partner after a long day of tedious work.

the door swings open, and before he even gets to call your name like he usually does out of instinct, a huge pillow comes dashing towards him and although it completely takes him by surprise, his reflexes help him dodge the huge pillow.

“shit! what the hell?” he grumbles right before his eyes land on you, standing all alert in the middle of the living room, shooting daggers at him through your fiery eyes. not to mention one remaining pillow in your grasp that seems to be ready to be thrown at your boyfriend who should have been home before exactly thirty-five minutes ago.

he squints his eyes as if he is seeing wrong. “baby? what’s all this? why are you—” he takes a step to get to you but an especially loud yell stops him.

“don’t you dare come near me until at least one of my pillows hit you!” you fake throwing the pillow at him so he dodges again, so you say, “and don’t you even try dodging it or i swear to god, rindou haitani.”

you see, you are talking to a man who has evaded death hundreds of times. this man before you has been threatened, intimidated, and been held at gunpoint before. but he swears he has never been scared of anyone else but you.

before you came, nothing can make him stand there and just take a freaking bullet. he will do whatever it takes to save his life. but right now, as he is in front of the person he has only ever loved and the person who has got him wrapped around a finger, he closes his eyes and stands still while waiting for the hit of the throw pillow to come. and man, it did come.

he wants to laugh, though. because your threats and angry demeanor seem so bold but the throw you just aimed towards him had no bite. still, to satisfy his beloved partner, he acts pained.

“where the hell have you been?! and you have the guts to ask me what the hell, when i have been waiting for you since forever!”

still acting as if the pillow really hurt him, he slowly approaches you with a small smile on his lips that he uses when he wants to appease you.

“i’m sorry, baby. it slipped my mind and got too preoccupied in an investigation. i hurried home as soon as i remembered, though. hm?” he smirks and finally takes you in his arms.

you land a punch on his back but you do not dare break off the hug. “and you think that’s gonna make it all better, haitani? i see i have been too complacent with you, you think you can woo me easily!”

oh, he absolutely can. you talk so much but really, you love him just as much as he loves you. yes, he may give in to all of your whims, but you also cannot resist him to save your life.

“i’m sorry, my love,” he whispers and kisses your temple. “i’m here now, am i not? you really miss me that much? wanted me to come home early?”

you separate from him for a bit to face him eye-to-eye. “it’s because i didn’t want anyone to beat me to it. i wanted to greet you first but i guess ran already did, huh—”

rindou stops you with an, “oh.”

“oh,” you say right after. “you forgot?”

he nods like a clueless child, “totally had no idea it was even coming up, baby. ran is overseas so he hasn’t got the chance to bother me with it.”

all his life, he only ever celebrated his birthdays with ran. and he can’t even call it a celebration. his brother would just greet him casually and dap him up, then he will wake up to a cupcake with a candle on it. he doesn’t think he will ever get used to being loved by anybody else apart from his brother.

but here you are, looking up at him, giggling.

“does this mean i get to greet you first?”

he nods, “the privilege is all yours.”

you tiptoe and his arms are quick to wrap around your waist to help you up to place a kiss on his lips, a deep and loving one that officially demotes ran’s birthday cupcakes into second place. your kiss takes the throne of the best birthday present ever.

“happy birthday, rin. i love you.”

just when rindou haitani thinks he could not love you any more than he already does, you prove him wrong.

[hannahssimblr]

At the tail end of the day as the crowds thin out and the shops begin to close their shutters I suggest that it’s time to get back on the road. The girls grumble about it. There is still heat in the sun and while we were all having a nice conversation on the grass, I think it'd be best to get home before I’m worn out and too tired to drive. It’s been a long day already, as fun as it's been.

“Well, fine,” Jen struggles to her feet, “but I need to find a toilet before I go anywhere.”

“You should have a posh wee then,” I say, “We should all go.”

Years ago I learned the power of strolling into an establishment with the confidence of someone who deserves to be there, and because the toilets in five star hotels are better than the ones you have to pay fifty cent to use in the shopping centre across the road, those are the ones we prefer to use.

The strategy is so simple. With enough blind confidence once can stride right into the Shelbourne Hotel, past the doorman with his little top hat on him, use their toilets and their thick paper hand towels and then leave like a bandit. It turns the act of doing a piss into something with all the dangerous excitement of a bank heist. 

Evie doesn’t know what a posh wee is yet, so we decide it's best to show her. So with her hand clasped in Jen’s we hurry down the road, and slow to a casual stroll as we ascend the steps of the hotel.

I know the Shelbourne, I’ve been here enough times especially for the toilets, and other times to have awkward lunch with my maternal grandmother who would always make sure to tell me I was scruffy and make comments about how my sister was badly behaved for asking for crayons at the table. There was a family wedding here once too, of some cousin or something, at which I stuck my arm into the chocolate fountain and got it all over my sleeve. My dad had to strip me off in the men's bathroom so we could wash my shirt in the sink in front of the old guys using the urinals. 

Evie evidently has no history with this place. For a few stunned seconds she stands in the centre of the foyer, her body reflected in the gleaming marble floor and stares, and stares and stares at the chandeliers, the gilded mirrors, the extravagant bouquets of flowers with her mouth open in a little o, frozen with the shock of the luxury. 

“Evie,” Jen says gently, “The toilets are this way.”

“Oh, okay,” she lands back on earth, “I’m coming.”

“Wait until you feel their paper towels,” Jen holds the door open for Evie as they slip inside the ladies room, “I've a feeling they’ll change your life.”

They’re a while in there, so while I wait I wander around the hotel a bit. I peek into the dining room where what seems like hundreds of the country's most elderly are seated for dinner, then the lounge, where a jazz band is setting up, and finally I wander up the stairs and start opening and closing various doors just to see what’s behind them. It’s mainly empty conference rooms containing nothing remotely exciting whatsoever.

Until, on the opposite side of the landing, I spot a woman in a red dress coming through a set of double doors. Behind her the ballroom is alive with lights, music, clinking glassware and then it's all gone again behind the sweep of a door.

The girls are finishing up their posh wee as I'm coming back down the stairs, then, pausing at the bottom I blurt out “I found something.”

Jen scrunches up her face, “Oh God.” She follows me anyway, Evie in tow and trailing behind me as I dash back to the landing, following that muffled sound of music all the way to the ballroom doors. 

I ease one door open with my shoulder and let a shaft of light leak out onto the carpet. 

Evie’s eyes widen, “Wha-”

I shush her sharply, “Don’t ask, just come in,” I step aside and usher them in ahead of me, then we are standing inside witnessing the full spectrum of the extravagance, disco lights thrown over their faces, Evie's, stunned, Jen's miffed. She grabs my arm and hisses at me, “Jude! This is someone’s wedding party.” As if I somehow didn't know it already.

“Don’t worry about it,” I stroll over to a table of champagne and snatch two glasses for them, contemplating, only as a man in a crisp tailored suit eyes me disdainfully, that I might be pushing the whole ‘you can get away with anything if you’re confident enough’ thing a step too far. Oh well, I’ll just see how long it takes to get kicked out. 

I pass the glasses to the girls, and when a smartly dressed, penguin of a waiter with a plate of vol au vents comes close enough for me to take one in each hand. I might as well enjoy something free. I stuff them into my mouth one after the other like a starving dog, not sure if I even really taste them.  

“Are you supposed to be here?” Some middle aged woman says to me, getting way too close. 

“Yeah,” I reply, and stare back at her until she goes away. 

After wiping pastry crumbs off my face, I approach Evie, who has both hands on the stem of her champagne flute, gazing around the room with big inquisitive eyes. 

“What do you think?”

“A bit fancy, the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

A smile, “The champagne is really nice though.”

“Is it?” I catch myself hoping that she offers me a sip from her glass, even after the long, intensive and graphic discussion I had with my dad about what would happen to me and my car if I ever got behind the wheel after drinking. Still, the bubbles in the glass rise so enticingly to the surface.

“Do you feel weird being here?” I ask her.

“Like, in the wrong outfit?”

“I suppose.”

She raises one shoulder in a shrug, “Maybe, it’s mostly funny though, isn’t it?”

“I would agree.”

“I'm surprised we've not been chucked out.”

“We will be, soon.”

The band kicks off into a cover of an Elvis song that aunt Maureen used to blast in the kitchen when she was doing a deep clean. With all of the fancy people in their finest outfits swaying unrhythmically on the dance floor, I decide that what would make the situation much funnier is if we were there among them, shorts and t-shirts and dirty white runners. 

“Where’s Jen? Jen!” I pull her away from a conversation she’s having with an old woman who seems confused about her appearance, “You’re dancing with me now.”

“Are you drunk? You’re hardly drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Hey! You too,” and with a hand on Evie’s shoulder I march her onto the dancefloor. She’s giggling the whole way. 

“Wait, wait,” she leaves her glass onto a table and I pick it up for one sip, that’s all. She was right, it’s really nice champagne.

“Are you making me dance?”

“Shh, yes, wouldn’t you like to say that you danced in the ballroom of the Shelbourne?”

“Yeah I’ll call my mother straight away and tell her the good news. She'll be so proud of me.”

“Do you like Elvis?” holding both of her hands in mine I spin her in a wild circle, accidentally bumping her into someone else, and she gasps, “sorry! Sorry! That was an accident!” Then to me, “I don’t know, I haven’t decided.”

“If you like Elvis?” I didn’t really intend to dance with her, but here we are. I don't let go.

“I don’t think about him in terms of like or dislike, or whatever. He’s just… himself, like.”

“Suppose he is, yeah.”

We are dancing with so little grace that it ought to be humiliating, yet she’s smiling with delight at the silliness of this moment, and the coloured lights bounce over her face in a way that would be so nice to paint. I crash her into someone else, then immediately leap backwards onto some man’s foot.

“Sorry, man.”

“Excuse me, are you even supposed to be here?”

“I'm a cousin.”

The chorus kicks in and I sing it at Evie with tone deaf enthusiasm in my best Elvis voice, “Your kisses lift me higher, like the sweet song of a choir, uh huh! You light my morning sky burnin’ luh-uh-uve.”

I catch her eye the moment that her laugh fades and her face takes on a different look, one I've recognised in other people, and for one fraction of a second as I look back my brain tries to formulate a thought, or at least the beginning of one.

If I wanted to, I could-

Nope. Not interested.

I release her immediately and whirl around to dance with Jen instead.

“What's wrong with you?” She says the moment she sees my face.

“Me? Nothing. What's wrong with you?”

“I'm fine. Why do you look liked you've stopped having fun all of a sudden?”

“I haven't at all.”

“Then why are you looking all intense?”

“Hm? Who's intense?”

“You!”

“Dunno, Jen, too many questions,” I attempt to dip her but she resists with a squeal, and thankfully, it's just about enough to distract her.

From nothing, that is. Because nothing is happening. Nobody is intense except the guy on stage, singing Elvis like his life depends on it, and I am being completely normal.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[ourplesauce]

a hundred on the dash get me close to god we dont pray for love we just pray for kars

[no1frogfan]

Picking Bokuto up from the airport

Bokuto Koutarou x gn reader

Tags & warnings: very mildly sexually suggestive

Word count: ~1.2k

Notes: Oops this started as a 500 word drabble and then I blinked. Attempt FOUR to post this, thank u tags

Your eyes drift from the sea of red tail lights ahead of you to the clock on the dash.

Ugh.

It was risky to take a nap right before you had to leave for the airport. You knew that. You knew you’d probably sleep through your alarm (like always), but who could blame you? You were so tired, and in your stupor, you convinced yourself that it would be fine. But of course it wasn’t.

When your eyes shot open long after your alarm sounded, you’d rocketed out of bed, scrambled to pull some clothes on, and sprinted out of the house 20 minutes later than planned. And in your rush, you’d left your fucking phone on the bedside table.

The cars inch forward a foot or two before coming to a stop.

You tap the steering wheel with an anxious frown, craning your neck to see around the car in front, as if that would help you figure out why traffic is moving at such a glacial pace.

Bokuto’s flight landed half an hour ago. He probably didn’t check any bags, so provided nothing weird happened, he should’ve deplaned and made it to your usual pickup spot by now, which means, as long as traffic thins, he’ll only have to wait an extra — your eyes flit to the clock — 15 minutes.

You can only hope he knows to stay there and wait, even though he’s probably worried about why you’re not answering your phone.

And what’s with all the airport traffic right now? Wednesday morning is hardly prime time for flights, or so you thought. What’s worse, with heavy traffic comes impatient drivers. You’d been almost side-swiped no less than three times already because god forfuckinbid anyone actually check their blind spot before merging instead of just gunning it and hoping for the best.

“-abe!”

The cars crawl forward again and you follow closely. Another couple hundred feet and you’ll be at your usual pickup spot.

“Babe!”

Thankfully, it seems like the congestion is finally clearing up. You keep up with the flow of traffic, one eye on the car in front, and the other scanning the sidewalk for your boyfriend’s distinctive silver-and-black spiked hair. Coupled with his height, he’s usually very conspicuous.

“BABE!!!!!”

Your head snaps toward the familiar voice.

Two lanes away on the sidewalk, jogging apace with your car, is your boyfriend. He waves at you energetically and you point forward, indicating you’ll pull over up ahead as soon as you’re able.

You observe him in the rear view mirror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, watching him dodge suitcases, luggage carts, and other passengers as he makes his way to you.

You’re already bursting out of the car as he runs up. He has just enough time to toss his duffel into the back seat before whirling around to catch you launching yourself at him.

“KOU!! I’m-” Before you can get an apology out, Bokuto’s arms wrapping around you squeezes the air right out of your lungs.

“Babe! I’m so happy to see you! Kariya and Osaka were amazing!” He blurts out, bursting to tell you about his trip, “We got to play a bunch of practice matches against the Stings and the Sunbirds! The Stings have this incredible setter Kawahigashi, his sets remind me a lot of Akaashi’s actually, but his personality is completely different, and the Sunbirds have some super strong outside hitters, Fujinaka especially — Do you remember meeting him when we were on the national team together? — and they also have this super young outside now, De Armas, and wow he’s…”

Cheek pressed into his chest, huffing a lungful of his body wash mixed with the slight tang of sweat, enveloped in the warmth that creeps through the thin, long-sleeve compression shirt he likes to wear for flights (if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was purposefully making himself look extra delectable), a dopey smile crosses your face while you listen to his excited rambling.

Taking one more deep breath, you cut him off with a kiss. “Missed you Kou.”

He flashes you a brilliant smile. “I missed you too, baby!”

“We should probably go. We’re holding up the line.”

“Ok but,” Bokuto proudly whips out a black gift bag from who knows where, “open this first!”

“How about I open it when we get home?”

Evidently, that’s not good enough because he reaches inside the bag himself, pushing aside glittery silver tissue paper to pull out some folded black material. You stare at it perplexed as he delicately unfurls the fabric, absolutely vibrating while he reveals the most exquisite piece of lingerie you have ever seen.

Bokuto holds it up for display. Only in the light can you truly appreciate the stunning combination of blacks — textured matte leather, smooth shiny silk, fine mesh panels.

He’s all giddy excitement when he urges, “Try it on when we get home?”

Before you can respond or even nod, your attention is attracted by some yelling nearby.

Instinctively, you turn, only to see an audience of people staring back at you, some laughing, some holding up their phones, some hooping and hollering. Slowly, slowly, your brain is spurred into motion, looking around, deciphering the shouts, the staring, the growing crowd, but it all seems like a normal day at the airport, so—

Oh god — you’re at the airport.

You snatch the lingerie out of Bokuto’s hands, “Oh my- KOUTAROU!” and hastily stuff it back in the bag.

“You don’t like it?” He shrinks, crestfallen.

“No! Yes! Oh my god, KOU it’s not- you can’t just- you can’t just pull lingerie out at the airport!”

“Why not?”

“Because!” You sputter, trying your best now to push him into the car.

About halfway in, his movements come to an abrupt halt and you see his eyes widen in sudden understanding. “Ohhhh.”

“Yes, oh.” You grumble. At least he finally gets it.

“I’m sorry babe. But don’t worry, I understand. Akaashi explained this to me before.”

Now you’re the one confused about how Akaashi could possibly know your boyfriend would do something like this. That is, until he continues solemnly, “He said that lots of people are self-conscious about their bodies, so I have to make sure to compliment you and let you know that I think you’re attractive.”

And with that, he takes a deep breath and cries out, “I THINK YOU’RE SEXY!”

The thing with airports is that they’re built with a lot of glass and steel and cement. A lot of hard surfaces. Hard surfaces that reflect sound very well, you discover, when his declaration continues to echo an almost comically long time after he’s finished shouting, after he squeezes your hand reassuringly, after he puffs out his chest, clearly proud of himself.

“Oh my god Kou, that’s not why- just- get in the car!”

You beat a hasty retreat to the driver’s side as cheers and applause break out.

When you eventually get on the highway, and your face stops feeling so flush, and your heart stops beating so erratically, you finally answer him.

“I’d love to try it on when we get home.”

Electricity courses through you when he reaches over, eagerly kneading the fat of your inner thigh in anticipation.

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Hey there, my hiatus is over

I realize I promised to have this up a couple weeks ago, but hey at least I'm here now

Hope you all like it. And thank you so much for these messages, they really helped motivate me in the periods where I was struggling to write

----

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

A Bird in the Hand, Part 8

The civilian hobbled about the kitchen in full view of the windows, collecting cardamoms, cloves, tea leaves, ginger – before dumping them into the pot to brew. The sight was peaceful, soothing, domestic.

The assassin raised his gun and took aim.  

“[Civilian]!” The villain burst into the room grinning from ear to ear. The assassin’s aim swerved, and he halted his momentum just before firing the gun. 

“Welcome home, darling,” the civilian said, holding out a cup of tea for the villain. 

The villain took the cup and placed it on the counter, instead taking the civilian into their arms. “God it’s been a day. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of seeing you.”

The assassin paused. The villain wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He’d lost his clean line of sight on the civilian.  

The villain was too strong to kill – their shadows healed them at lightning speed. But targeting the civilian? What a perfect way to strike the Achilles Heel of the villain’s entire operation. 

The assassin tilted his head, and watched the pair. The villain held the civilian securely, the two of them practically melting into each other. The civilian sang softly, and they both floated as a single unit in the gentle river of a melody. 

The assassin once again had a clear shot on the civilian. He considered taking it despite the risk, just on the mere principle of seeing two people so happily in love while his home city burned. 

But he paused. He thought he’d caught a detail, a little movement. And while it was possible he was projecting, years of bitter work in this business had taught him to trust his instincts. 

When the villain first walked through the door, the assassin could’ve sworn he saw the civilian flinch.  

--- 

“What are you getting out of this?” the assassin asked. 

To the civilian’s credit, they didn’t scream. The assassin could see them tense, coiled and ready for a mad dash back to the house. But at least they didn’t scream. 

The assassin jumped down from the tree, close enough to be a threat to the civilian but far enough still to remain out of the sight of any henchmen. He noted the civilian’s muddy gloves, their kneeling posture, the tall yellow flowers they’d been carefully pruning piled next to them in the grass. 

“Like to garden?” the assassin said. 

“Who are you?” 

The assassin was disappointed, a little bit. His targets – the ones he actually spoke to – always asked the mundane questions. They were never perceptive enough to understand that all the “why”s and “how”s and “where did you come from”s would go unanswered. He’d sort of hoped that someone like the civilian would be different. 

“I’m someone with an interest in saving lives,” he said “Now, since I like you, I'll ask again. What are you getting out of this?”  

Evidently, the civilian was the expressive type. Their eyes flicked to their trowel, then the surrounding gardens, and lastly to the house some hundred meters away, never realizing how each movement of their retinas projected their thoughts to the assassin.  

“I’m not sure what you mean,” they said finally. 

The assassin leaned against the tree. It was a deceptive stance in which he looked relaxed and unthreatening, but could spring into action at a hair-breadth’s notice. 

“One day, [Hero] is at the top of their game," he began. "The next day, main street is nothing but craters. And then some two-bit villain that no one remembers suddenly becomes god of the city." He crouched down to meet the civilian’s gaze. "Makes you wonder if there isn't a puppeteer somewhere, holding strings."

The civilian blinked. “Did you come up with that on your own, or is that the commonly held belief about me?"

“Are you saying you didn’t shack up with [Villain] willfully?” 

The look of revulsion that crossed the civilian’s face said it all. The assassin’s grin widened. He loved being proven right. 

“Okay.” He stood up, dusting off his pants, and held his hand out to the civilian. “Let’s go.” 

The civilian glanced between the assassin’s hand and his face. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Didn’t you hear my bit about saving lives?” He reached for the civilian, but they lurched away. 

“Listen,” the civilian said. They slowly rose, their bad leg making it awkward. “You do not understand what is going on here. If I disappear, [Villain] will look for me.” 

“Most villains do,” the assassin agreed. “Feels nice to be wanted, don’t it?” He took a careful step towards the civilian, but again they moved back. 

“You’re not listening. [Villain] will kill you.” 

The assassin shrugged. He leaned forward a tiny bit more. 

“Help!” the civilian yelled. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, both equally surprised by the civilian's outburst. The civilian took in a breath. Then, louder, “Help please!” 

The assassin was gone long before the guards even entered the gardens. 

---

The civilian was a decent actor. The assassin had to give them that. 

The couple went about their evening routine like usual – a warm welcome home, dinner, an after-meal tea, and then finally cuddling. The villain’s head rested on the civilian’s chest and the civilian read a paperback, all while Sinatra played on an old record in the other room. The assassin might have even bought it, if the civilian had turned the page of their book once within the last forty-five minutes.

“I would like to discuss something,” the villain said, their eyes still closed.

The civilian’s expression twinged. “Hm?”

The villain opened their eyes, and adjusted so that they were looking the civilian in the face. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course.”

“And do you love me too?”

“Of course.”

The villain smiled, and that almost seemed like it would be the end of it. But then their hand went to the civilian’s jaw, shadows emanating from their fingertips. “So then why did my henchmen see you talking with a stranger in the gardens this afternoon?”

The civilian’s eyes widened. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I know what it is.” The villain’s shadows warped out like talons, and the civilian jerked back in pain.

“I don’t know who that person was. I wasn’t trying to leave.” The civilian’s voice was strained. “I love you too much to ever do that.”

“My dear, if only I could believe you.” The villain held the civilian down in their writhing. They leaned in until their faces were nearly touching. “What will you do to prove you are willing to stay?”

“Whatever you want. I – ” The shadows entered the civilian’s throat, choking them and cutting off their words. Tears sprang to the civilian’s eyes.

“Come now, love.” The villain lifted the civilian in their arms. “I need to show you what happens when you let your affections stray.”

And then, just before the villain reached the door, they stumbled. The movement was awkward and wobbly – one moment they were striding confidently across the room and the next their knees were on the ground. The civilian dropped to the floor with a yelp.

The villain grasped their head as though in pain. All their shadows had evaporated. "What? . . ."

“Holy fuck,” the civilian said, scrambling backwards. “Holy fuck it worked.”

The villain jerked their gaze up. “What did you do?”

The civilian burst out laughing.

"[Civilian]!" The villain tried to move forward but swooned, only just catching themself with their arms outstretched.

“Angel’s trumpet,” the civilian said, struggling to get their laughter under control. Their wild eyes went to the empty mugs on the table. “Brugmansia candida. Symptoms include difficulty with speech, delirium –” their gaze slid back to the villain, “– and paralysis. I’ve been told it also makes for a rather delicious tea.”

The assassin’s memory flashed to the tall yellow flowers the civilian had been pruning.

“You – ” The villain tried to stand up, but collapsed down again on their knees. “I’m going to kill you.”

“I doubt it.” The civilian rose from the floor wearing a triumphant grin, and limped to the opposite wall. “You never seemed quite unhinged enough to destroy your own power source.” They opened a closet door and pulled out a backpack.

"What are you doing?" the villain asked, their voice hitched in fear.

"Leaving, of course." The civilian went to the kitchen cabinets and threw in supplies. They returned and slung the bag over their shoulders. "As much as I want to stick around and see if I brewed enough to kill you, I best get going. I'll say one thing though." They leaned down and grabbed the villain's chin. "You repulse me, [Villain]. And I never once loved you."

"I will find you." The villain's limbs began shaking as they watched the civilian move away. "It will take mere weeks. Days, even! I don't care how much of this city I have to destroy." 

The civilian's footsteps paused.

The villain's words quickened, growing eager. "That's right, [Civilian]. I will ruin this city. Stay here and you save countless lives. Mothers, children, innocent people who –"

The civilian strode back and kicked the villain in the chest. "You try anything like that, and I'm killing myself." 

The assassin watched with growing respect as the civilian limped out the front door, the villain screaming their name all along the way. 

-----

Taglist:

@d-cs , @asrasmysoulmate

[galaxycunt]

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 3

Pt 1 Pt 2

Quick lil note to say I love every comment I been getting on my stuff and ilysm kissing u all mwah mwah it really makes my day

Story under the cut: angst only rn

You shared a cigarette on the deck with a crew mate, watching Buggy from afar. Sometimes if it was cold, he used to lend you the coat he was wearing right now. What a fool he made you out to be.

”Captain’s let his bird fly out the cage finally?”

”Oh, shut the fuck up.”

He only laughed, “Cabaji gets his sloppy seconds, you could do worse.”

You flicked the butt in his face, storming off below the deck. Before all this, Buggy was teaching you how to throw knives. You decided it was perfect time to imagine the empty barrel was his face.

You could think of a hundred reasons for why Buggy was bad for you, but the good times popped up. His laugh, the real one he seemed to save just for you. The way he’d protect you during a raid, shoving you downstairs in a hurry yelling at you to hide. Letting you watch his shows from the catwalk, his eyes shining brightly in the spotlight as he looked up at you.

It wasn’t romantic for most people, but things were different on the sea. After a raid on a village, he kept a small box close with him. He hid away from the crew, only coming out when you said you didn’t want to eat dinner alone. He had his moods, he was soft around you. He never told you what was in there, only his mood giving a hint to what it was. Closer than what anyone else got.

”Needs work, thank god you’re not my first wave of defense,” said a voice behind you.

”Is there more to be done, captain?”

He smiled, “nah. Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

You looked him up and down, “nice necklace.”

”Eh, gonna hock it next time we dock somewhere. Can’t figure out what put in it anyway.”

You forced a smile, “I thought even pirates loved their mama.”

“Now that’s funny.”

You nodded politely, turning to leave. Buggy stopped you, his brows furrowed like he was struggling what to say.

“I didn’t…know that..well, I don’t have to really explain myself do I?”

”Excuse me?”

”Lemme make it up to you, steal a table at Baratie, dine and dash. Something fun and exciting!”

”What? No, I’m not doing that.”

He frowned, “aw come on, you’re not turning legit now, are you?”

You smiled, “I’m not doing that with you.”

Hurt flashed across his face for only a moment, “you did it first you know.”

This confused you, having no idea what he was talking about. You sized up your captain, he was a stubborn bastard.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, so I doubt it.”

”Go clean the head.”

”You’re seriously giving me cabin boy duty?”

He nodded, causing you to groan. He smiled satisfied, he was going to make you regret sleeping with the boss. If that was how he was going to act, you were going to make him regret it too. Cabin boy was easy to pay off for shit duty.

”I’m sure there’s a way to convince your captain differently, if you wanted to be persuasive.”

Buggy stepped closer, bumping into your chest. His breath smelled of whiskey, his aura pulling you closer. It was like that when you joined his crew, amused instead of angry that you tried stealing from him. Buggy had a way with people, making them stay. You knew better.

”You don’t like me Buggy, simple as that. You made it clear more than once.”

He was at a loss for words, letting you walk away as he stood there. You held in your tears until you reached your room. The worst part about being on a ship was the lack of privacy. In your dreams, Buggy would proudly proclaim his love for you, in front of the whole world. Instead of letting you hover around him, the crew would judge you, yet you didn’t get special treatment when it came to chores.

He did give you his cabin to be alone in, and that was something you wished you had now. You cried softly, face down in your pillow. What did he mean earlier? What did you do first?

You heard your name called, ignoring it.

“You okay?”

It was your friend, petting your head softly. You gave a thumbs up, rubbing your face like nothing happened. She smiled, giving you the mug of coffee in her hand. The ship was set to sail for a small village, peaceful and full of gold. You chatted about the show, what your friend had planned.

“So what’s your plan?”

”I’ll probably still run the lights and curtains.”

”No, about him.”

You sighed, “he’s a grown ass man, he won’t apologize and I’m not gonna coddle him. We’re pirates for fuck’s sake.”

Surprisingly, Buggy still allowed you to run the lights. In the middle of the ring was the mayor, bound and gagged as Buggy made his grand entrance. He was nicer when the show ran smoothly, a little more willing to let people live.

And your mother had much bigger plans for you and your life.

Buggy glanced up at you, winking as he tortured the mayor for the key to the bank vault. He was still very handsome, sexy when he exerted his power over others. The gasps from the audience reminded you of the first time you saw his powers, it was intoxicating.

You used this opportunity to sneak away, heading towards his cabin. You weren’t sure what you wanted to find, his room was messy as always. You had some clothes left behind, deciding to take a pile. You searched around for your locket, not remembering if he kept it on today. The accordion was still in its case, you took that one too. If he was going to punish you for stealing your own things, so be it.

Realizing you never had the whole ship to yourself, you pushed your luck, snooping in his personal items. Sealed letters from someone, the name sounding familiar. Under a pile of scarves was a small box, you wondered if the locket was inside. Were you still willing to steal that damn thing from him?

You decided against it, running to your room and back to the tent before anyone noticed. You stood in the back, watching the show. The crew was probably going to stay here another couple of days, Buggy loved his adoring fans. You could escape if your luck ran out.

The show ended, Buggy noticing you near the entrance, he smiled and let you go on your way with the rest of the crew to drink. His words entered your mind again, what imagined transgression against him was he thinking of?

The crew liked putting on a small show for themselves, your friend waving as she flipped through the air. You’d miss this crew if you had to leave, Buggy couldn’t ruin this for you. You smiled, hoping to let this whole thing blow over.

You heard your name bellowed out from across the tent, Buggy marching straight toward you. The rest of the crew adverted their eyes, he was on a warpath.

You stood up straight, “yes, sir?”

”You were in my cabin. What did you take? Treasure? A map? Money?”

“My clothes. I had clothes there,” you stuttered.

He glanced around the room, “my cabin. Now.”

You nodded as you’re hurried past the crowd, embarrassed and slightly afraid. Thankful he wasn’t about to air out your relationship failures in the open. It didn’t mean anything good either way.

Buggy spun around as soon as the door closed, angry to the brim.

”You stole from me.”

”I…didn’t.”

”Yes, you did.”

”The accordion? I only took my things back.”

He waved around his room, “oh! Is that all? Nothing else? Nothing in that desk?”

You shook your head, of course he’d find out. You didn’t take anything, your only saving grace.

”I was looking for my locket,” you held up your hands, “I’m not stupid, Buggy. I only take what’s mine.”

He searched your face, the wind blowing out of his sails, he believed you.

With a laugh he shook his head, “you’re gonna be the death of me. Swear to god.”

With a nervous smile, you tried to leave. He still stopped you, lightly grabbing your arm. His eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t place, unsure if he could either.

“I would like to hear a song, if you’re willing to grant an audience. That’s how I’ll forgive you.”

You smile, “I’ll be right back then.”

The words slipped out so easily, the way your body moved too. You played in your youth, something you did to pass the time on long voyages. On your last ship, it was lost in the wreck. You couldn’t find a reason to get it replaced, feeling like you had no need to. You only told him about it once, in an inn months ago while you bathed together. He liked your singing, not surprised that you always been some sort of artist your whole life.

That day was when you realized you were in love with him.

“Captain?”

”Come in, I was just uh, setting the mood, I guess.”

The cabin was dimly lit, a sheer red scarf placed over a lamp. He held up his hands, motioning you to sit on his chair. You giggled, covering up your nerves.

“Any requests, captain?”

”Oh you can call me Buggy, and uh. I dunno, dealer’s choice.”

You could only remember a song partially, singing a song of a woman left at the altar on her wedding day. The notes were fumbled, your foot tapping next to his, he hummed along not knowing the lyrics.

You had a good time despite yourself, smiling as you made up a song on the spot. You could remember simple chords, singing about the woman from the previous song taking to the sea to cut her fiancé’s head off. Buggy laughed hard at that one.

“Beautiful!”

You smiled, “thanks, Bug.”

You got up to leave, Buggy stopping you again. He held his breath, thinking of something to say.

”You don’t have to leave so soon do you?”

He looked so sad, so lonely. You were certain it had to be projection on your part. He held out a hand, letting you place your fingers gently on his palm. You were in love with an image, one he displayed in full before you. You had doubts, and that was reason enough to leave.

”I can’t. I really can’t.”

He only nodded, letting you take your things with you. As you closed the door you hear him release a shuddering breath, matching the sob you were holding in yourself.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Story. Flashback

Previous | Next

[ID: Fifteen digitally sketched panels in sepia tones and black and white.]

[Panel 1: A tower in Balboa Park (shown in previous updates), captioned, "1920 Balboa Park." From off panel, Hare calls, "Jacky! Jaaackyyy!"]

[Panel 2: Rabbit and Hare as they appeared in 1920 (Rabbit is pre=transition, Hare is pre-accident). Rabbit, sitting on a brick wall, waves to Hare walking by and says, "Hey there! Jack ran off again, huh?" Hare says, "Bah, he's probably getting chummy with your pal, Three. He'll show up."]

[Panel 3: Hare folds his arms and closes his left eye, looking at Rabbit skeptically out of the corner of his right eye. He says, "What about you, hiding from the twins?" Rabbit looks away, smiling guiltily, and says, "Not hiding, just (ellipses) getting some air?" Hare says, "Tch, yeah, right."]

[Panel 4: Hare looks off to the left irritably and says, "I get it, though. My Pops gets on my nerves all the time! Like just the other night, he (ellipses)"]

[Panel 5: Hare looks down and grimaces uncomfortably, saying, "(ellipses) Well (ellipses)" Rabbit looks at him in concern and says encouragingly, "Yeah?"]

[Panel 6: Hare, looking downward, hurt. He says, "(ellipses) He said I walk like a girl." Rabbit says from off panel, "Oh (ellipses)"]

[Panel 7: Rabbit, half joking, half hopefully, asks, "(ellipses) Think you could teach me?" Hare glares back and says loudly, baring his rows of teeth, "No! 'Cause I don't!"]

[Panel 8: Hare and Rabbit, backs to the viewer, continue to talk. Hare says, "I mean, it's different for you. For you, it'd be a good thing." Rabbit says, "Yeah (ellipses) maybe someday."]

[Panel 9: Rabbit looks down wistfully. Hare in the background looks at her nervously, realizing his faux pas. No text.]

[Panel 10: Hare puts his hands on his hips and looks away, saying quietly, "Y-you'll get there." Then, louder, he says, "Anyway, damn, no sign of Jack, huh?" Rabbit, cheering up, says, "Gasp! You'd you pick up such foul language?]

[Panel 11: Hare points at Rabbit while grinning, and Rabbit grins back. This panel is reminiscent of one seen in a previous update where Hare couldn't remember this happening. Hare says, "Well, I can't say it 'round Jack or Skully. You, though (em-dash) I don't care if you think I'm bad!" Rabbit says, "You're bad but you're not that bad." In overlay, in Rabbit's font but apparently separate from her dialogue, reads, "Hare (ellipses)"]

[Panel 12: Vertical gradient from the yellowish sepia background to white. In overlay, Rabbit says, "Hare (ellipses) Hare!"]

[Panel 13: Present day Rabbit, staring directly at the viewer in alarm and venting steam, says, "Hare! You slept for a hundred years! It's the sky shark apocalypse!"]

[Panel 14: Present day Hare, staring blackly ahead at the viewer (Rabbit), with an ellipses indicating a silent pause.]

[Panel 15: Hare smiles in relief, beginning to tear up, and says, "Oh, thank God. sniff You're still annoying as shit [censored]." End ID]

[reminiscencez]

~jinx X fem oc~

“Reminiscence” by luvmelaniee112 on wattpad!💌

ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian lay peacefully asleep in her bed,

her dreams undisturbed until a faint whisper pierced the silence. At first, she dismissed it as part of her dream, but the whisper grew louder and closer, tugging her from slumber. Her eyes snapped open to the sight of a man dressed in all black, his face obscured by a ski mask. Panic surged through her, and she opened her mouth to scream, but his hand swiftly covered her mouth masking her screams. Fear gripped her, and she began to kick frantically.

Then, in a moment of shocking revelation, the man removed his mask. Bian's eyes widened in disbelief as she recognized the face beneath.

"Oh my god," she thought, her mind racing. It was her uncle.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at her uncle, confusion and fear swirling in her mind.

"Uncle Wyatt?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What are you doing here? What's going on?"

Wyatt's eyes were filled with a mix of urgency and sorrow. "Bian, I'm so sorry for scaring you," he said softly. "I didn't have a choice. There's something you need to know, something dangerous. I had to come to you like this to keep you safe."

Bian's mind raced with questions, but she could see the sincerity in her uncle's eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "What do you mean? What's happening?"

Wyatt glanced around the room, as if checking for unseen threats. "There's no time to explain everything now. We need to leave, immediately. Trust me, Bian. I'll explain everything once we're safe."

Despite the fear and confusion, Bian nodded. She trusted her uncle more than anyone in the world. "Okay," she said, her voice steadier. "Let's go."

Wyatt helped her out of bed, and they moved quickly and quietly through the house. "I'll be right back. Stay here," he instructed, retrieving the office key from his work bag. She rolled her eyes, fully aware that she had already been inside the office and puzzled by his insistence on keeping it such a secret. Sure, there were confidential documents in there, but she couldn't understand the need for such secrecy.

He swiftly unlocked the door and entered, closing it firmly behind him. She let out a frustrated groan. What on earth could he possibly be doing in there? Didn't he say this was an emergency?

As she waited, her mind raced with a torrent of questions. "Where on earth had he been all this time? If we were in danger, why would he leave his 13-year-old niece alone?" Bian mentally cataloged the hundreds of questions she would bombard him with later. But for now, they needed to get out of there.

He emerged from the room, his face a mask of urgency. Tossing her a duffle bag, he said, "We're going to be gone for a while. Pack some stuff."

Curiosity piqued, Bian peeked into the office to see what he was up to. She watched as he tore down posters from the walls, emptied the contents of his desk and bookshelves, and hastily shoved everything into his own bag. The room, once a cluttered sanctuary of his thoughts and plans, was now stripped bare, echoing the gravity of their situation.

Bian's heart pounded as she realized the seriousness of their predicament. She quickly gathered her belongings, her mind still swirling with unanswered questions and a growing sense of urgency. They had to move fast, and she had to trust him, even if she didn't fully understand what was happening.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

───

Bian's thoughts raced as she recalled the strangers who had mysteriously appeared in the kitchen, claiming to be searching for her uncle. Utterly bewildered, she had no idea what was happening. She dashed into the living room just in time to see her uncle exiting his office and locking the door behind him. He stared at the door for a moment, then looked down and sighed.

"Do you have everything?" he asked.

Bian nodded.

"Good, let's go," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He pulled up his mask and unlocked the front door, stepping aside to let her pass first. Even in times like these, he always maintained his manners, at least towards Bian.

He jogged down the porch steps, his eyes lingering on the house one last time before he shook his head and gave Bian a sad smile. They began walking down the road together.

"No car?" she asked, glancing around.

"We can't risk it. It's going to suck having to walk, but it's better than being caught," he replied.

"Caught?" she thought aloud. "Caught by who?"

Uncle Wyatt sighed deeply. "Well," he hesitated, searching for the right words. "There are these people... they, uh..." He struggled to explain. "They're not too fond of me," he said with a dry chuckle. "And to take precautions, for both me and you, we need to leave."

Bian realized this was her moment to bring up what had happened that one night. "The night you let me go into the city, I came home, and your office was ransacked. Did you do that?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Her uncle paused and stopped walking. "What? Ransacked? What do you mean, ransacked? Did they take anything?" he quickly asked, looking intently into her eyes.

Bian stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bian, did..they..take..anything?" Uncle Wyatt demanded, his tone urgent and filled with concern.

"I-I don't know," she stuttered, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. "The window was busted open, and there was glass all over the floor."

He sighed deeply, shaking his head in frustration. "And... the drawers to your desk were open. There were, like, files all over the place," she continued, her voice tinged with guilt, even though she knew she had no control over what had happened.

Uncle Wyatt's face grew more serious, the lines of worry etched deeper into his features. "This is bad, really bad," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "We need to move quickly and stay ahead of them."

Bian felt a pang of guilt, as if she had somehow let this happen. She knew it wasn't her fault, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on her young shoulders. She looked up at her uncle, searching for reassurance in his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Bian," he said softly, as if reading her thoughts. "We just need to be careful and stick together. We'll figure this out."

"Oh." Bian said.

"What?" he said.

"There's more I need to tell you," she said as she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort and looked the other way, avoiding eye contact.

"Bian, what is it?" he asked impatiently.

"There... there were these strange people."

His eyes furrowed.

"I woke up the day after you didn't come home," she said, slightly shooting him daggers. She didn't know when she'd forgive him for that. "There was a woman and a man in the kitchen; the man had... like some type of burns on one of his eyes? He had an orange eye and a blue eye," she shyly continued. "I know it sounds stu—"

Her uncle cut her off by holding her shoulders. "What did the woman look like? Did you talk to them?" he asked intently.

"I mean... I kind of had to talk to them."

He scoffed. "Well, what'd you say then?" he said, almost annoyed.

"I had no other choice, okay? I had to talk to them. They were freaking standing in front of me!" she yelled.

She looked up into the sky. "The woman had a metal prosthetic arm," she said, confirming his fear.

"Shit," her uncle murmured.

"They said you had some debt you needed to make up or something. They were looking for you."

"And... I told them you went missing," she said, looking at the ground, embarrassed.

"Are you serious right now?" her uncle yelled at her. "What the hell did I tell you about not talking to strangers?" he yelled out once again.

Bian flinched at his tone, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know what else to do. They were in our house, Uncle Wyatt! I was scared."

Wyatt took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know, Bian. I'm sorry for yelling. It's just... those people are dangerous. You have to be careful."

She nodded, wiping her tears. "What are we going to do now?"

Wyatt looked out at the night sky, his mind racing. "We need to find a safe place for you. Somewhere they can't find you."

"But what about you?" Bian asked, her voice trembling.

"I'll handle them. I just need you to be safe," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Bian shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving you. We're

in this together."

Wyatt's face hardened, his voice dropping to a grave tone. "I'm sorry, Bian. I can't have them hurting you. I don't think you understand what these people are capable of."

"You're going to stay with a good friend of mine, okay?" he continued, trying to mask the fear in his eyes.

Bian rolled her eyes and shrugged, her defiance palpable. "He has a kid around your age," Wyatt added, hoping to soften the blow.

That piqued her interest for a moment, but the anger quickly resurfaced. She scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So what, you're just gonna leave me again?" She smiled, but it was a smile of disbelief, not joy.

"I—" Wyatt began, but she cut him off sharply.

"You know, I thought you died!" Her voice cracked, the pain evident. "You said you'd never leave me. You lied!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty street. She stopped walking, her body trembling with rage and sorrow.

"You left me! What if they came and fucking killed me?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. The raw emotion in her voice was like a knife to Wyatt's heart.

Wyatt stood there, stunned. He had never seen her this mad, this hurt. "I really thought you were just going to be another version of my parents," she cried out, her voice breaking.

He took a step towards her, his arms outstretched, but she recoiled. "Don't touch me," she spat, her eyes narrowing in anger.

She secured her bag once again, her hands shaking, and began walking ahead of him, sniffling. Wyatt watched her go, his heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that he had shattered the fragile trust she had placed in him.

──⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*••*¨*•.¸¸☆*･

~ 1790 words~

If this interested you and you would like to read the rest of the book, Its called “ Reminiscence” By luvmelaniee112 .

💋

Authors note: oh shieeeeet this is angstyyyy. Her uncle is a friggin liar😡 I get it, hes trying to help but cmonnnn. ALSO SILCO AND SEVIKA?? OH GODDDD HE BETTER PREPARE FOR WAR

[nishicchikouchi]

It has occured to me that it is time that I made this, so here it is.

Do you like fantasy in modern setting? Do you like an OP protagonist that moves behind the scenes? A protagonist who's one of the biggest unreliable narrator I have seen? A protagonist who like to sacrifice themselves? Do you like found family? Do you like a great world building? Then this novel is for you!

Introducing, 명문고 EX급 조연의 리플레이 or EX-Rank Supporting Role's Replay in a Prestigious Highschool

Description:

After clearing the final chapter of the national game, I became a nameless supporting character in the game. An EX-level supporting role that can not be measured outside of the standard and is of an unknown level.

FIRSTLY, the MC, Jo Euishin!

Since I also read the mtl of this novel, his name is also translated as Cho Euishin, God of Condolences, God of Joy, etc. Lol its pretty funny cuz his name gets translated to various names, but if one were to follow the official korean romanization, the accurate translation would be Jo Uisin.

This guy, to descibe in a sentence, another self-sacrificing and a dash of in-denial kind of character. He won't hesitate to get hurt if it means that he can protect the people precious to him, but at the same time, he tries to distance himself to people who wants or is too close to them. Like come on, this guys' sole hoobae who treats him like an older brother, he can only treat as a hoobae not as a younger brother.

Even having that kind of attitude, Jo Euishin was able to form a lot of close connections in the novel, and those connections make me scream, I love them a lot!

Jo Euishin, despite having no self-awareness to relationships connected to himself, is pretty aware of connections and has a deep understanding of human behaviour of those around him, so he gives good advice.

Overall, Jo Euishin is a character who cares for others deeply but doesn't care about his well-being as much as he loves the people he cares about.

The Plot

So, as the summary indicated, our protagonist, Jo Euishin, played a game called Player Meister Highschool, PMH for short, and he got transmigrated in another world. After finishing the final chapter of the game while he's on the verge of dying, he hears that he's a suitable candidate and became the supporting role character controlled in the game. But PMH absolutely sucked because every playable character died, having a bad ending, and the final chapter contained a very hopeless ending.

After he gets transmigrated to another world, right of the bat, he was translated into the prologue setting where, four applicants (he's one of them), and the supervisor gets killed by a rampaging enemy.

After he gets through that hurdle, he comes to an understanding that he didn't transmigrate into the game world, but actually, in another world where everything is real, and swore to move to make his playable characters and the world to have a happy ending.

The plot revolves around the the MC's life, while being enrolled in Eungwang High, the main setting of the story. He meets the game's female lead and male lead there (which he sincerely hopes get together), the playable characters, and the npc's that appeared in the game.

PMH had a lot of plot holes when Euishin played it, but as he lives in the world he's currently at and solves the main problems that occured in the game, he discovers that there's more to everything and there's a ton of stuff hidden and the questions Euishin had to the mysterious stuff that happened in the game got answered one by one.

The story progress is a bit slow, but I assure you that everything is written the way they are for a reason. Even if the story is slow, the arc progression when it happens is a bit fast cause the battle itself was short. One of the arc's that happened spanned at least a hundred chapters before it closed, containing the preparations and various battles, but when everything happened, it lasted only for 5 hours in that world. So, it is slow and fast.

Currently, they're at the end of their 1st semester in their 2nd year by the time I'm writing this, and the novel has over a thousand chapters (1113 chapters).

The Worldbuilding

There are some complicated stuff in the world building that needs to be explained, but if explained in detail, you'd be able to appreciate the story more. It doesn't actually pose a problem since most of the time, when something is introduced, it gets explained sooner or later in the story.

The way the novel is written is amazing. If you pay attention to the smallest of details, the ways the characters are introduced, the POV changes, in the latter parts of the story, you can almost predict what could happen, but somehow even if you do, its exciting, because the writer writes foreshadawing so well. They add the hints sometimes unnoticable, sometimes blatant, and when you make the connection when a reveal happens, it so hecking good.

The MC's abilities

Jo Euishin's abilities are a bit overpowered, even in terms of a world where Higher Beings (or gods) and Non-Humans exist. That world has a ranking in terms of abilities, and Euishin's powers rank very high. I'll probably spoil a lot if I explore his abilities in this, so I won't explain too much aside from that, but His Gwangrim, which is an ability every person in the world who has supernatural powers have and is unique to each person, Jo Euishin's Gwangrim, "Player's Trajectory" lets him be able to use his Playable Characters' abilities. One of his abilities caused prophecies in that world to be erased.

He's also highly intelligent, and when he makes plans, it's very elaborate that sometimes he perfectly predicts how the opponents would move.

Lastly, where can you read it?

This novel does not have an official english tranlation, but the official raws can be found on the following sites:

Ridibooks

Kakaopage

Munpia

I assure you the translation of this novel plays a big part in why people drop it, but the novel is very much a hidden gem and you won't regret it if you continue to read despite the bad translation.

I'd like to recommend it to every moots or followers I have that has read orv, lcf, and tsctir, and enjoyed them, as EX-Rank kind of contains elements of those novels, but still doesn't feel repetitive and still has a unique storyline.

If you decide to give it a try, thank you! If you're a reader who dropped it, this is your sign to pick it up and read it again~

Thanks for your time, and have fun reading~

[ohtobemare]

having big tc thots today, and this is something i've wanted to play around with for a couple of weeks. Days of Thunder, 1990. Cole Trickle. 90s Tom Cruise. need i explain? so here's a teaser of something i may potentially work on. thoughts?

Redline

(Teaser)

"Cole! Cole, honey, can you hear me–? Let go of me, I wanna talk to them–COLE!"

Harry shoves her away from the mic hard enough that she slams into the faceless body with enough force to rattle her teeth, without apology.

Daytona heat all but rolls under the denim draped heavy across her shoulders. She can't even feel her own heart that racehorses against her ribs, can't hear past the roar of a gasping, on-their-feet crowd. Has all but forgotten how to breathe, even with Harry's iron grip now, somehow, on her forearm.

His low tones remind her with rhythmic examples of what she's supposed to copycat.

"In, out....that's right, darlin', in....out...." but it's lost when sunlight hits the gleaming, steel rail of the ambulance gurney. Taxiing the only thing she ever remembers caring about, the last six months.

Unable to look past the blood and rubber and black exhaust that's painted him like a work of art, her eyes weld to the EMT taking scissors to his prized SuperFlo suit. He loved that logo, the look of the get up.

He loves. Present tense.

She forces herself to remember he's, divinely, alive.

"Can't ask for a sponsor with a better look, sweetheart."

Every one of her internal organs make a mad dash up into her ribs when the gurney cuts sharply to angle by Harry and the rest of the pit. All but jumping the partition, Harry tosses the headset to the tar beside the familiar denim jacket. He hauls her over with him.

Breathless, trembling, and every organ all but screaming the same Pleasedon'tlethimdieGodpleasedon'tlethimbedead, her hands wrap home around the gurney's rail as it slides up beside her. No doubt the timing of God allowing her a moment in the mess the Firecracker has become.

The rail's surprisingly warm. No surprise, really. It's one hundred and eight degrees in the shade on this track.

It's Harry who manages to speak first, eyes flicking to the EMT ripping open the familiar suit.

"What've we got, doc?”

Half registering the fact this woman is an EMT, not a doctor this situations so desperately needs, she bends deeply over the rail. Hustles along the gurney that hasn't stopped moving like a pace car since it had scooped his body off the track.

Fingers slipping across the mess on his face, the familiar touch prompts a reaction. Eyes shifting back and forth rapidly behind closed eyes, his head lolls into the touch, heavily. Lips part with a soft moan that's more pain than recognition, though the attempt is there. From here she can feel his heart redlining in his chest. Against her fingers.

Matching hers, pace for pace. Like always.

"Cole. Baby, it's me–"

And his eyes flutter open, fan of lashes and all. There's instant recognition. That cocksure smile, the little light in the corner of his eyes. Sparkle of an ego that's too big to drive, too big for this whole world.

Fat, hot tears slip down her own face, to the mess his suit has become. The EMT has already cut through his underclothes, his skin is flaming. There's a scent of gas in the air, of exhaust. Steel, rubber. Familiar, all of it, but there's the sharp sting of antiseptic. Something coppery, almost.

It's blood. So much damn blood.

His smile grows when her eyes shift to consider his state. A quiet "Hi," is all he manages, lifting a slow hand to rub a curl between his fingers.

"Get her out of here!"

Wanting to respond, the EMT smacks his hand down and shoves her off the gurney as if it'll bite. Stumbling foot over foot, it's Harry's strong arm catching her elbow and tugging her along that sets her after them in long, purposeful strides. Strides that feel heavy, uneasy. Like walking on wobbly noodles. It takes every ounce of willpower she possesses.

She's swallowing air faster than she's breathing. Hiccups come, then sniffles. It's impossible to keep the race of thoughts lapping her brain at bay, and they begin to filter through her mouth without so much as a breath.

"Harry, is he–? I wanna––"

"I know, darlin'," his voice is certain. More certain than she's ever heard Cole's best friend be, when he's not cussing the pit out or chewing Cole a new ass through the mic. Jaw set, the vein in his neck strains with the effort of hauling her at elbow through the massive crowds that have gathered to see Cole to his shiny new ambulance ride. "I'm gonna get us there, that's a promise."

And Harry keeps his promises, almost all of them. That's something Cole had assured her, a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. It's hard to remember.

Has. He has assured her. He's alive.

Remembering is really the only thing the two of them have.

divider by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

taglist: @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @soulmates8 @chicomonks @books-are-escapes @sarahsmi13s @cassiemitchell @lovinglyeternal @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @lavenderbradshaw @bradleybeachbabe @roosters-girl @footprintsinthesxnd @chaoticassidy @roosterisdaddy36 @callsignharper @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ohgodnotagainn @moonchild-cupcake @aviatorobsessed @kmc1989 @imp-number-3 @your-local-crzy-lady @horserad-ish @bisexual-watermelons @mongoosesthings @gothidecorem @philcoulson-redtapeninja @itsgoghtime

[jodjuya]

Coming to Harvest Moon from Stardew Valley is certainly an interesting experience.

Trying out 'Tale of Two Towns'. Never played any Harvest Moon titles before now, but I've got a couple hundred Stardew hours under my belt.

I'm tickled pink that you can accost the wildlife. It's just so funny being able to snatch up a random duck from the river and then yeet it at a bear while it (the duck) is busy making anger emotes at you. 🤣

I'm sad you can't steal the wildlife though. Can't put a duck in my pocket. 😭

But I can put a boulder as big as my oversized chibi head into my pocket just fine. I guess boulders don't fight back as hard as waterfowl do...

I hit "save draft" on this post, and THIS is the very first thing I see on my dash. How serendipitous. 🤣

It's so funny that the farmer responds to all dialogue with a musical note. My man out here whistling and beeping like R2-D2. Non-verbal King.

Only a single turnip seed to start my farming career with. At least they gave me a ripe field to harvest right off the bat...

But I don't get paid from the shipping bin right away, so I have no cash to buy seeds. Probably should have tried to sell my crops directly to a store. Is that possible I wonder...

I enjoy how much sheer mobility this farmer has. Goes up and down these mountains leaping over every obstacle like he's Super Mario

Catching lots of insects on my walk. Wonder if I can sell them in the shipping bin... 🤔

Found bamboo. Wonder if I can feed a wild panda with it... 🤔

I leveled up via picking up grasshoppers and putting them into my pocket 😂

Haha, I can sell all of the insects I picked up, and the fish and crabs I caught with my bare hands. Excellent!

Ah! So all my other starter seeds were just in the storage chest! Hooray!

Did leveling up actually do anything to my character? Do I have statistics or something? 🤔

The goddess of vegetables: "you're now on a Mission From God to win the monthly cooking competition!"

Grrr. There are message board requests for literally every single thing I gathered on the mountain yesterday and then shipped for cash... 🤦🏻‍♂️

Oh well, at least I got $3k out of it and can put that cash towards seeds...

The seed shop is closed on Tuesdays... Eat a bag of dicks, old man... 😒

Dr Ayame is a dominatrix.

Having the Town Hall give you directions to different people's houses is a feature I FUCKING LOVE!

Oh okay wow, fertilizers do not work how I expected!

Found some honeycomb. It says to "put it into a hive to get honey". Where do I get a hive from? 🤔

I really really really REALLY wish my stupid farmer would stop reeling in shock every time I make him do hard work. Stop interrupting my furrows you stupid piece of shit!