#I was just trying new style and made a wrong turn somewhere

[isilwhore]

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[iluvzaddies]

soft yandere!wanderer headcannons

warnings: none

the wanderer had many names: kabukimono, kunikuzushi, scaramouche, the balladeer.

after he lost a battle with the well-known traveler, he became the wanderer, a puppet with no strings. a puppet with a different style and his very own anemo vision.

he changed for the better and it was all thanks to nahida, the traveler, and you.

you helped him retrieve his memories along with nahida and the traveler.

you helped out only a bit, but still, he was grateful.

he would feel indescribable emotions whenever you were around. at first, he thought there was something wrong with him, but discovered what he was feeling was in fact love.

“love” was a foreign word to him. ever since his birth, he never once experienced love. his creator, the almighty shogun or the god of eternity, saw no worth in him and discarded him like trash.

sure, he had met a few friends, but neither of them filled the void of loneliness in his heart because they either died or abandoned him.

he wanted to forget his past and focus on the present, so he tried his best not to act in a way he would back when he was a harbinger.

he wanted to shower you in gifts as thanks, but that would be a problem since he wasn’t acquainted with the fatui anymore, meaning he had no mora and would have to make mora independently somewhere.

“sc– i mean, wanderer, what are you doing?” you asked, furrowing your brows, as you saw the ex-harbinger behind a fruit stand.

“oh… i’m just trying out a new job... figured i’d have to do something to make a living since i’m not in the fatui anymore.” he felt his face heat up at the sight of you. just one look at you was enough to make him flustered. “so, this is what sumerians do to make mora? sell pieces of fruit?”

”yeah, i guess. you can try selling jewelry too or make mora off of dancing.” you imagined him, an ex-harbinger, dancing for mora. the thought made you chuckle.

“dancing? for mora? how would that benefit anyone?”

“benefit? people just like that sorta stuff. it’s entertaining for them.”

“i see. do you like that sort of stuff?”

the way he asked that question was adorable.

oh no, did you just find him adorable? he literally tried to kill you, nahida and the traveler not too long ago. how could you find him adorable?

“i– i do like watching dances. nilou’s my favorite dancer. i make sure not to miss out on any sabzeruz festivals or just any sumerian festivals.” you rubbed the back of your neck.

“hm.” he looked like he was actually considering it.

“hey, wanderer, (y/n).” nahida greeted, approaching the both of you.

“oh, nahida! it’s nice to see you again.”

“it’s nice to see you too, (y/n). i’d like to thank you once more for your help back then. traveler and i really appreciated the gesture.” nahida smiled at you then turned to wanderer. “how have you been faring, wanderer?”

“tch, it’s you again–“ he stopped, remembering he wasn’t supposed to act like his arrogant, aggressive self before (at least in front of you). “i mean i’m fine. selling fruit isn’t too hard.” it wasn’t as hard as shedding blood every single day.

“i’m glad you’re doing well.” nahida put a hand on her chest.

“well, i got to go now. you guys continue talking. goodluck with your new job, wanderer. see you around, nahida.” you said, giving them a wave, and left before wanderer could say anything else.

“you have feelings for her, don’t you?” nahida noticed his expression turn from soft to irritated. “i can see the longing look in your eyes.”

“shut up. you ruined everything with your presence.” he grumbled.

he watched as you were getting further and further away from him.

you would be his someday. he’d make sure of that. and once you were his, he wouldn’t ever spend a day apart from you. he would treat you so well. he would shower you in gifts (using his self-earned mora), take you out on “dates” (a human activity where you bring your partner to eat somewhere beautiful, he learned) and eventually confess his feelings to you.

if you return his feelings, oh that would make him the happiest puppet alive. he would happily sweep you off your feet and start a brand new life together with you.

[mxigo]

soul sick | part 1

SERIES SYNOPSIS: It’s hard enough watching the male that holds your heart pine for another woman, one that is the definition of beauty and grace, but to watch him fall for another yet again after you feel the mating bond snap into place is its own hell. A hell that makes you dangerously ill.

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: you get ready to go out with Azriel after his check in with the Illyrian camps, but things don’t go as planned.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, swearing. a relatively tame first chapter

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

NEXT CHAPTER

a.n. if i get anything wrong i’m blaming it on my shit memory and the fact that i haven’t finished acowar and haven’t read acofas and acosf. really just going off what i remember and what i’ve read in other fics. enjoy!

It has been three months since Feyre’s sisters were Made and subsequently brought to the Night Court. You’ve done what you could in aiding their transition to fae life, even getting as far as calling Nesta a friend, cold façade and all. But while you have gained a friend, you’re beginning to lose your best friend, and the male that you love, all at the same time.

It first started with him checking in for a second after the two of you had come back from being out and about in Velaris, then it turned to him apologetically explaining that he already had plans with Elain for the evening, and now, you hardly see him at all anymore.

It’s become more often than not that he spends his time with Elain, leaving you on the back burner, as a second thought to his plans now. You have other friends, yes, but you don’t remember a day where you haven’t at least sent notes back and forth to each other since you became close. It’s like you’re missing a part of you, something that is supposed to be there but isn’t anymore, and your body knows it. Why did it have to be him? She has a mate waiting for her for crying out loud, one who you can tell just genuinely wants to know her, and Azriel is entertaining her, knowing full well what her position is.

Guilt eats at you for these jealous feelings, knowing that the girl has been through so much when her entire life was ripped away and was literally turned into something that she was taught her entire life to fear. You want to be accepting and carefree about the situation, but it is literally impossible when you catch him looking at her with the intense adoration that you have yearned for decades for, and she has simply swooped in and stole him from you.

But tonight, you and Azriel have plans to go out into Velaris for the night for dinner. It’s your tradition that you’ve had for years to catch up after his return from his visits to the Illyrian camps, something to help him unwind. You just hope that for a single night that you can forget about it.

The new dress you bought just yesterday is a beautiful deep burgundy color, the hem falling just above your mid-thigh, long-sleeved, and the neckline plunges lower than what you are used to wearing. You were able to find a pair of nude heels that fit you perfectly in a corner shop. You were even successful in keeping your hair styled for the occasion. It was safe to say that you looked stunning, and there was a glimmer of hope that it wouldn’t be left unnoticed by him.

The heels’ click echoes off the paneled hallway as you scramble to finish getting ready, knowing that you need to leave. You stride into your bedroom, beelining for the jewelry tree on your vanity. Considering the colors that you’re wearing, you think a gold set would be the best, and you know exactly which to wear. Gently, you pick up the teardrop Alexandrite earrings and necklace that Azriel had bought you after one of his trips to the Summer Court. The gem’s color shifts between purple and green depending on the light source, easily making them your favorite pieces.

It hurts a bit when you try to put the earrings in, meeting a bit of resistance as it’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, but you’re able to get them through without too much trouble. The necklace thankfully clasps easily around your neck, the pendant falling in the middle of your chest. The delicate gold glitters in the candlelight, making you smile at the memory of Azriel giving it to you. With a shack of your head, you snap out of the memory’s haze, misting yourself with perfume as a last thought before leaving your bedroom.

The click of your heels echoes off the buildings lining the road as you make your way to Rhys’ townhouse to meet Azriel for drinks before dinner. The night’s cool breeze causes your flesh to break out in goose bumps, but it feels nice over all.

The door unlocks as you turn the knob, and the house becomes alight as you enter. The candles flicker to life to bring the house into a cozy atmosphere, and even the fireplace roars to life to stave off the last of the early spring chill.

The grandfather clock in the foyer chimes, signaling the turn of the hour at seven o’clock. Your heart flutters, excitement filling you knowing that he’ll be here any minute. You make your way into the kitchen, pulling out Azriel’s favorite whiskey and your favorite liqueur, grabbing two tumblers out of the cabinet to set it all out on the table.

Minutes tick by as you wait for him to winnow into the kitchen like he always does, a soft smile on his face as he holds out his elbow like the gentleman he is to winnow you wherever you want to go. You settle into a cushioned seat in the adjoining living room, picking up a book that has been left out and flipping open to the page that you had left on.

Those couple of minutes turn into five, then into fifteen, and then by thirty minutes, you’re constantly glancing between the clock and the kitchen, anxiety eating away at you. Azriel has never been late like this before, and if he’s ever late, it’s only by no more than five. Your stomach rumbles as hunger makes itself known, and you set down the book on the table to stand up. Maybe something happened that’s causing him to be late, but there’s a little voice that’s whispering to you, saying that he’s forgotten about you, that he’s preoccupied by a certain sister.

You shake your head, setting the book back into its spot to stand up and head back into the kitchen. You pour a drink and watch as the dark amber liquid swirls into the cup before settling around the ice. More minutes pass as you finish the drink only to pour another, still waiting, hoping that he will pop into the room, spewing apologies as he tries to explain why he was so late.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, it is Rhys that winnows into the kitchen, startling you so bad you nearly fall off the stool.

“Mother, Rhys, give a girl a warning before you snap in like that,” you joke, righting yourself up. Your eyes meet his, and you’re confused because he’s confused, staring at you like you are crazy.

“What are you doing here? Are you meeting someone?” he asks, his head tilted slightly as he stares still.

There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you want so badly to be wrong about what’s happening.

“I’m meeting Az here. We’re supposed to be going out tonight like we always do when he comes back from the camps, but he’s late. Have you seen him by chance?” A look passes over Rhys’ face, and you recognize that look immediately, your face dropping, heart hammering as you wait for those few words.

“Oh, sweetheart, he left the House with Elain,” he whispered, like you would shatter at just those words, and you suppose you do.

Your breathing stutters, and it’s like the world goes fuzzy, the sounds muted as your breaks cracks. Never in all the years have you been friends with Azriel has he ever forgotten about your nights out when he comes back, let alone either forgetting or just flat out choosing to spend it with another female and not tell you. And of course, it’s with Elain.

Your lungs shake as you take your next breath, reality coming back into focus as you realize that Rhys is still in front of you, worry etched across his face as he too realizes what has happened. You knock back the rest of your drink, and your hands shake as you pick up the glasses to take care of them and to put the bottles away. In an effort to try to get Rhys to go away, to be alone, you put on a fake smile, looking at him.

“Oh, well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected that we’d be going out tonight without checking in with him to see if he was free. That’s my mistake, but thank you for telling me, Rhys. I’ll clean up here and I’ll get going,” you try, but he just shakes his head.

“Nonsense. Leave it, I’ll take care of it later. Let me take you home.”

“Honestly, Rhys, I’m ok. It’s just a misunderstanding on my part. And my home isn’t far from here at all, and the night is nice. You don’t need to winnow me,” you insisted, already done with rinsing out the glasses and putting them away. But your voice is shaking ever so slightly, sick to your stomach, and you know that Rhys notices.

He grimaces, debating with himself on what to do.

“If you’re sure,” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and you nod. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

“No! No, you don’t have to do that. Seriously, Rhys, it’s not a big deal,” you beg, and finally, he relents.

He nods once before stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“You’ll let me know if you change your mind, right,” he asks.

“Of course,” you promise, and he pops back out of the house, leaving you to truly process the situation.

He took Elain out instead. He left you, that same voice whispers, louder this time. Tears sting your eyes, and a half-sob rips out of your lungs, a hand flying up to your mouth to prevent any more from leaving. But you’re fruitless in your efforts to contain your emotions as tears start spilling over, splattering onto the table.

You leave the townhouse in a flurry, harshly wiping at the tears. The house goes dark behind you and the lock snicks shut, leaving you in the night’s chill. Then all at once, your face crumbles as your emotions make themselves known. You try to reason with yourself that there’s no reason to be upset because it was true when you told Rhys that you never did confirm with Azriel if he didn’t already have plans, you just assumed.

But you never have to check in, he has always been there.

“Fuck,” you whisper, walking down the cobbled road back to your townhouse, furiously wiping away the stray tears.

The walk back is quiet for the most part, and you’re thankful that you don’t run into anyone. You would never let yourself live it down if someone saw you in the state that you’re in. You almost make it back, but as you look up, your heart drops and your veins fill with ice as you recognize two figures walking your way. They are so enraptured with each other that they haven’t noticed you yet, so you quickly move over to the edge of the road, hopefully giving yourself enough space that they don’t see you.

You continue walking, arms crossed, and hair falling around you to shield your face, and you’ve just passed them when you spare a glance, making eye contact with him.

Fuck. You walk faster, eyes trained on the ground.

“Y/N?” he calls out, but you keep walking, quickening your pace.

“Y/N! Hey, wait,” he shouts, and this time catches up with you.

A calloused hand closes itself around your arm, effectively stopping you. You whip your head around to face him, and he looks at you in confusion. His form towers over you, and you’re so close you can smell the cologne wafting off of him. You watch as his face crumbles while he looks you over, and it almost seems like he’s panicking.

“Please, just allow me a moment to explain,” he begs, but you shake your head, eyes screwing shut to prevent him seeing the frustrated tears.

“It’s fine, Az, really. I just wish you would have told me instead of having Rhys be the one to tell me where you were,” you whisper, your eyes now trained on his chest, still avoiding his eyes.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s confrontation. Even if all you want is for someone to feel what you’re feeling, and to confront them about what they’ve done, you can never bring yourself to do it, to hurt them like they had hurt you. So right now, you just want him to let you go so you can let yourself fall apart and piece yourself back together in the comfort of your home.

He is helpless as he sees you put up your walls, trying to keep your emotions in check by shutting them off entirely. It’s something that he’s never been on the receiving end of, and it crushes him to know that he’s who caused this.

A cold whisper ghosts over your wrist, and you look down to find a shadow caressing you anxiously, but it only makes you even more upset, the corners of your lips forcefully tugging down and eyes burning. Blood thunders in your ears, and you can feel your hands shaking, and no doubt Azriel can feel it too, which just makes you panic harder.

“Please, let me go I just want to go home.”

“Y/N,”

“No, Az. Just—”

“Azriel? Is everything ok?” A soft, ethereal voice breaks the moment, your eyes snapping over to the culprit.

You’re horrified as she walks over, the object of your ire making herself known. She looks absolutely breath taking dressed up, and you can’t help but understand for a moment why he would choose her over yourself. She’s absolutely perfect, and you’re… not.

She stops just behind him, placing a delicate pale hand on his back, looking up at him with worried eyes. His gaze snaps from you to her, and it makes you sick as you watch his face soften for her. You take the moment of weakness to rip your wrist away, giving yourself a step to breathe.

Azriel looks between the two of you, confliction painting his face as he tries to decide what to do, but you don’t give him the chance.

“I used to believe that you wouldn’t go as far as this, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

He reels back like he was physically slapped, looking back at you in astonishment.

“What is that supposed to mean,” he begs, his eyes wide as his grip grows tighter around your wrist, but if you say what you want to say, you’re going to irreparably damage your relationship with him. Despite how you feel, that’s the last thing that you want.

You sigh, closing your eyes and shaking your head, just wanting the conversation to end. “It doesn’t matter. Enjoy your night, Azriel.”

You spin around and high tail it away from him. Although you just want to be left alone, it still makes your heart break even more when he doesn’t try to come after you.

The guilt eats at you again knowing that you ruined his and Elain’s night, but that selfish part of you is glad that you did and made him feel like shit.

Thankfully, you make it back home before you lose it, sobs racking your body as it all comes out. The pain of being pushed aside for someone else yet again comes to a head from tonight’s events. In a fury, you rip off the dress and heels, slinging them somewhere to be found later. You all but drop your jewelry onto the vanity, letting it clatter against the dark wood top. Tears still pour out of your eyes as you rifle through your liquor cabinet, pushing to the back to grab a bottle of dark and strong whiskey, but you slam the door shut as the thought of whiskey being Azriel’s favorite pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.

So instead, you crawl into bed for the night, staining your white sheets with your black-tinted tears.

-

Heavy thudding at your door drags you from sleep, making you groan as you have to peel open your eyes. The sun is blocked out by the thick curtains, confusing you even further as you try to figure out what time it could be. A headache makes itself known, pulsing behind your eyes causing you to groan as you sit up. The thudding continues, and you can’t help but snap.

“Give me a Mother-damned second! Fuck!” You slip from the sheets, stumbling across the room to get to your dresser. You pull a pair of pants and a t-shirt from a drawer, throwing on them on as you make your way to the door. You pray it’s not Azriel, but it’s more than likely it is. He’s the last one you want to see right now. Hopefully, he’s smart enough to stay away for a little while so you can cool off, allowing the whole situation to blow over.

You yank the door open, squinting at the bright sunlight, but they snap awake when you see Mor and Cassian in front of you instead, the latter standing against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“Uh…” You’re at a loss for words, guilty for the way that you had screamed at them.

“Get ready, we’re going to lunch, and you’re going to tell us why Azriel came home like his fucking puppy died,” Mor says, inviting herself in and grabbing you to lead you to your room. You look back at Cassian, eyes begging for help, but he just shrugs. Bastard.

The blonde immediately starts riffling through your wardrobe, picking through dresses and outfits, but you’re not sure what she has in mind. You allow yourself to flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Cassian’s footsteps announce his entrance as he takes a seat on your love seat.

“What’s this?”

You pick your head up to see Mor holding your dress that you left in a ball on the floor. Your face flickers for a moment before you reign it back it, allowing the emotionless mask to take place.

“Nothing,” you whisper, letting your head fall back onto the bed.

It’s silent for a moment as Mor and Cassian look between themselves then back to you. It’s obvious something happened between you two last night, and the story won’t come easy from either of you.

The bed dips as both of your friends sit on the edge, one on either side as the flop down next to you. They remain quiet, but the tension and everything that you’ve been feeling makes your chin tremble, and you bite your lip to try and conceal it. But the tears sting at your eyes anyways, making the ceiling go blurry.

You sit up, digging your elbows into your knees, heaving a great sob. A small hand rests itself on your back, rubbing in circles as you allow yourself to finally fall apart.

“He fucking stood me up,” you choke out. “We always go out when he comes back from the camps. I got dressed up and everything, waited at the townhouse for a half hour just for Rhys to show up and tell me he wasn’t coming. Then I ran into him with Elain on the street on my walk home.”

They’re silent as they let you recount what happened last night, Mor’s face twisting as she watches one of her closest friends fall apart in front of her.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Cassian whispers, but you just shake your head.

“It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not fucking fine. He’s either blind or just outright stupid to not see what he’s doing to you.” Cassian’s face is set in a scowl as he thinks about his friend’s behavior after Elain came into the picture.

He knows that his brother has a history of fawning over unavailable women, but for him to entertain one who already has a mate, one that lives with them and wants to engage with her nonetheless, makes him question if Azriel is really that ignorant to the entire situation. It’s not exactly a secret that you harbor feelings for the shadowsinger, but he has been oblivious to the way that you look at him, and Cassian can only imagine how you are with him when no one else is watching.

Mor’s heart breaks while she is helpless watching your face crumble and tears drip off your chin. There’s been a lot that has brought you down, but nothing like this. You keep a strong face around your friends, always trying to be a happy and fun person to be around, letting yourself be the shoulder to lean on when they need it.

Although Mor was the first obstacle between you and Azriel, she was always a good friend to you since you first joined the Inner Circle decades ago. Her warm and confident nature brought you out of your shell when she introduced you to everyone on that fateful night at Rita’s, which in turn brought you to Azriel.

You let your feelings ruin it all, the voice whispers, if you had just kept your feelings in check then you wouldn’t be in this position.

Then, with a deep breath, the mask comes back.

You wipe your face of the tear tracks, sniffling to try and clear your sinuses before looking at Mor and Cassian with a watery smile.

“So, what were you guys saying about lunch?”

A look passes between your friends before looking back at you.

“Well, we thought today would be a good day to try that new place on the Sidra for lunch,” Cassian answers, a slight smile on his face.

“I would love to. Will you two help me pick something to wear?”

“What else would we be here for, angel,” Mor giggles, standing up and taking you with her.

I’m so lucky to have them as friends.

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 31:

I watched it begin again…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

Info: in this story, Mattia Binotto is 2023 still team principle of Ferrari; Fred Vasseur will take over in 2024!

"I thought we’re here to train…" I mumbled and plopped down in an armchair in front of the huge fireplace of the ski resort we were staying in.

"We just want a little footage of your training!" Elijah said "Just one more day and we’ll be gone, I promise!"

He walked away and I sighed, right as Charles sat down next to me, a frown on his face.

"What’s wrong?" I sat up and looked at him.

"Nothing." he said and I raised an eyebrow "Okay… so umm. Someone from the factory, who works on the new car said it’s made to fit Carlos’ driving style. And I kinda knew that already. Mattia said that they will switch between my preferences and his, but the guy said it’s like completely accustomed to Carlos’ driving style. Not just tending more towards his preferences."

"So the car is completely made for him? That’s what you’re saying?" I asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I don’t know. Maybe it’s not that bad at all?"

"You wouldn’t be this worried if that wouldn’t be that bad at all…" I stated matter of factly.

"I don’t know. I have to drive it first. But yeah… it kinda worries me." he sighed.

"So you were closer than ever on winning the championship last year, but instead of continuing this momentum they designed a car for him? Who gave a flying fuck about his team in more than one race last year? Cool." I shook my head.

"You guys coming?" JK said behind us and I nodded.

"You know what? You’re right! You have to drive it first." I smiled at Charles encouraging and got up, pulling him with me "Now come on. I’m starving!"

We followed Andrea, JK, Joris and Antoine to the restaurant and sat down. I could see how tense Charles was the whole evening. Trying his best to not show how worried he really was, but whenever he smiled it didn’t quite reach his eyes and he was more quiet than usually. Whenever the others started to talk about the upcoming season I tried my best to change topics, not wanting to add onto Charles already growing anxiety. But when we were back in our hotel room and he sat down on the sofa, staring outside, not saying anything I sat down next to him.

"Charles?" I took his hand in mine and he looked up "Talk to me. What’s going on? It’s not just that the car might be more suitable for Carlos… that’s something you can work with, I know you! There’s more… come on!"

He looked out the window again, closing his eyes for a moment before he turned his head.

"There’s something going on at Ferrari… with Carlos and his family. I don’t know what, but last year, I was too early for a meeting and walked into the room with Mattia, Laurent, Carlos, his dad, his cousin and two Spaniards I knew from somewhere, but I just didn’t know where from… well yeah they all stared at me like I interrupted a secret meeting and the two Spaniards left then immediately. Mia found out that these two are from Santander… what would they have to talk about? Then I heard some mechanics talk about the pressure on Ferrari from Santander to deliver the right result, that was after Monza…"

"Which you won?" I added and he nodded.

"Yeah, so I wasn’t sure what that meant… I often saw Carlos’ dad and his cousin talking to Mattia and Laurent, in the corner of the garage, like they wanted no one listening? Maybe I’m just paranoid? Maybe there’s nothing big going on… but I don’t know… sometimes I feel like I’m fighting my own team…" he sighed.

"Because you are, sometimes at least… last year were so many awfully wrong strategy calls, mostly for you and whenever you said something you were silenced. Just look at Silverstone, how Mattia treated you afterwards when you were rightfully frustrated with them letting Carlos do whatever he wanted and then giving him the better strategy! They took away a win from your hands." I said and he leaned back into the pillows, closing his eyes "I don’t like criticising Ferrari constantly, but I had to do it, because they fucked up, again and again and unfortunately mostly your races…"

We sat in silence for a while, Charles deep in his thoughts and me rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

"I can see it, you know? Every time you criticise Ferrari. Your eyes giving it away. You hate it. It hurts you. But I know why you do it. For me." Charles looked into my eyes, almost as if he was looking into my soul.

"I will always love Ferrari. I will always be a fan deep down in my heart. That won’t change. It’s our dream. Always was." I whispered and he nodded, kissing my forehead.

"And in another life. Another universe. We would live our dream. Together. But in this world, this team isn’t ready for a female driver. They’re not ready for you. They’re still stuck in their old fashioned ways. It sucks that the gender of a driver plays a bigger part than the talent of them."

"It doesn’t matter. You made it. And I made it as well. Different. But still." I smiled and he tilted my head up, his eyes locking on mine.

"Exactly. We both made it. We both drive in Formula 1. We both are F1 race winners. And this year we both fight for the championship! A new season begins and we will be better than ever!" he was determined and I nodded.

"Hell yes we will!"

After three more days of powering through work out sessions and training in the snow it was time to head to Neuburg, or in Charles case Maranello. I was excited to see the new car, see the new developments and was keen on getting into the simulator first things first. But the first days were filled with sponsor meetings, analysing the data of the last season, seat fitting and photo shoots with our new race suit and team kits. After the last photoshoot Julie signalled me to follow her and she brought us to one of the lounge rooms.

"Here, I’ve got something for you…" she smiled as we walked inside "Fan letters."

"Fan letters?"

"Fan letters!" Julie repeated and pointed at the box on the table.

"And they’re all for me?" I asked, eyes wide.

"Yup. And don’t worry, we checked them all through. It’s just letters and some gifts."

"Checked them? Who am I? You really think people care enough about me to send me what? A letter bomb?" I chuckled but Julie just shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry. You don’t have to open all of them. Just pick out some and we’ll film a little clip."

"No! Are you kidding me? People took some time out of their day to write me! I will read every single one!" I shook my head and sat down, grabbing the first letter "I have nothing else to do anyways!"

"Alright. I’ll check in later to film you. Have fun."

I only nodded and already read the first letter. I was touched by all the sweet and kind messages from fans all over the world, opening letter after letter. I opened up the next one, pulled the paper out of the envelope and as soon as I read the letter I dropped it. That couldn’t be. How could he know that I would read all my fan letters? How could he be so sure I would pick his letter out of the hundred or more in front of me. I crumbled up the piece of paper. Grabbing the next letter. Trying to get rid of that sickening feeling inside my stomach. Just to be gutted again, three letters later. I checked the envelope of the first letter, it was the same. Frantically searching through the box I found another 41 letters, 43 in total. I ripped them open. The letter was the same in every single one:

Happy New Year, Lizzie.

2022 was only the beginning…

This year I’m coming for everything if you won’t do what I say.

I didn’t need a name to know who wrote the letters. Salva Diaz. It was too quiet after Japan. He didn’t try to contact me in any way. Didn’t post anything about me. He went radio silent. And a gullible and optimistic part of me thought it was over. He had enough of this cat and mouse play. But of course I was wrong. So wrong. I stuffed the envelops frantically in my bag, when I heard Julie approaching, putting on a fake smile.

"Alright, let’s pick out some nice ones and open them, read them through, show it to the camera a little, say something to your fans and then that’s it." she said and I nodded, doing exactly what she said.

"This one here is from Nicole, 9 years old from Denmark. Thank you for your sweet words! And thank you even more for this beautiful drawing." I turned the letter so Julie could film the picture of the little girl "I will put it in my drivers room!" I opened up the next one, two bracelets falling out, along with a letter, I read it and smiled "Thank you Celeste! I make sure Charles gets his bracelet!" I showed Julie the two matching bracelets and slipped one over my wrist "I love it!" I picked two more letters and Julie was happy, stopping the filming.

"Perfect! You’re officially dismissed for today. Tomorrow you’ll be in the simulator, Pete wanted me to let you know! See you tomorrow, Lizzie!" she smiled and left.

I grabbed my stuff and left the factory immediately. Making my way to the hotel room. Pacing back and forth. I had to focus on the preparations of the new season, but instead my head was in shambles about what Diaz wanted exactly from me. His banning from the paddock was his own fault, I couldn’t do anything about it anymore and he knew it. What did he want now? As I racked my brain about what he could want from me, my phone rang and I flinched. Charles. I took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the sickening feeling inside my stomach that followed me back from the factory, after I opened up the first letter of Diaz.

"Hey Charlie bear." my voice overly sweet.

"Ewww. No. Absolutely not. Stop calling me that!" he laughed and I sat down "How are you? How’s the new car?"

"I’m okay. A little tired. The last days were draining… but I haven’t been in the simulator or anything till now. Tomorrow though, I’ll give it a go. What about your car?" I asked and he sighed.

"Hmm. Not so sure. It’s a bit too early to give a final answer? It looks okayish? I’m worried about the rear though… I don’t know. I haven’t driven it as of now, so yeah." his voice not really confident.

"We all know that Carlos likes understeery cars, whereas you’re more into oversteery ones… I honestly don’t know how they want to compromise on that?"

"We’ll see I guess."

"Hmm. I’m just happy that Valtteri and I prefer both an oversteer car…" I sighed.

"I would love to have you as my teammate! Our driving style is so similar and we both have the same preferences when it comes to our car set up." he chuckled a little although I knew that he wasn’t just joking around.

"I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Maybe the car isn’t that bad? You just wait sunshine, you just wait!"

"Very funny." he laughed and I did as well "I can’t believe that it’s already almost time to pack up and leave for Bahrain."

"Yeah… in a week we will present our cars, then do some more testings and then it’s go time… I’m just sorry that we won’t be here for Liams birthday." I mumbled.

"Yeah, that sucks… but he’s a big boy, he understands!" Charles tried to cheer me up a little.

"I know, but still. I will see him on Benjis birthday though. Dad said they will come here."

"You know that I’m trying to come as well! But as of now, I’m not so sure I can make it…" he sounded defeated.

"It’s okay. No one’s mad or anything."

"Okay." he sighed "I gotta go now, sponsor dinner, yay… I’ll text you later, okay?"

"Alright. I would say have fun, but I know you won’t, so… I hope it won’t take too long!" I said encouragingly "Oh and Charles? Let’s wait until you tested the car. Maybe it will surprise you and will be good in the end. You never know."

"I hope you’re right, cara mia!"

I waited for Charles in the car park, taking selfies with some fans, signing shirts and caps when I saw him approaching. Head hung low, hair messy, no team shirt or cap on. He tried to draw as little attention as possible, just wanted to leave the track.

"Thank you guys! Have an amazing night!" I smiled at the fans and unlocked the car, getting inside. I drove straight up to Charles and ushered him inside, then I turned around and drove by the baffled fans, screaming for Charles.

"Thank you." he whispered and leaned back in his seat, looking outside.

I didn’t reply, only took his hand in mine and squeezed it.

"The tests looked so promising, even though I’m not entirely comfortable in the car. It looked good… the start? Amazing. Our pace didn’t match with that of Red Bull so Checo overtaking me was just a matter of time… but still. P3 would be a good result in a car that doesn’t suit me much… and then? Poof. Mechanical failure. Nice one. Good start of the season that was supposed to be our season!" he ranted after a while "And I thought quali yesterday was bad."

"It’s only the first race of a very long season, Charles! Focus on the positive things! The car doesn’t suit your driving style, you’re not really comfortable in it, but you still managed to start from P3! You overtook Checo right at the start and held onto that P2 for 26 laps! You would’ve finished that race on the podium if not for the car being a bitch! That was just a small bump on the road! In two weeks you’ll be back on top again!" I stopped the car and looked at him "Now come on. I’m hungry and we have now two weeks off!" I got out of the car, handing over my keys and waited for Charles to follow me "Let’s not think about the race for now, okay?"

"Okay…" he sighed dramatically and grabbed my hand, pulling me to his side, when some fans recognised us "Well it looks like our midnight snack has to wait…"

I woke up to the smell of some delicious food and clattering sounds from the kitchen. I turned around, searching blindly for my phone on the nightstand. 11:27. I sat up immediately. I couldn’t remember a day where I slept that long. Swinging my legs off of the bed I stretched. Feeling a little tense after the first race weekend of the season. I made my way into the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water, brushing my teeth. When I stepped out again I grabbed Charles hoodie and pulled it over my head, following his cursing into the kitchen. He stood in his sweatpants only at the stove, his back to me. The kitchen island full of pastries, bread rolls, fruit salad, plates full of cheese, honey and jam, a huge stack of pancakes and waffles. A full buffet of all of my favourite breakfast items. Even a jug full of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"If the food tastes as great as the cook looks… mhhh delicious!" I teased and Charles flinched.

"Fucking hell." he whispered underneath his breath and turned around "I wanted to surprise you!" he pouted a little and I smiled sheepishly as he turned off the stove, walking around the island and pulled me into his arms "Happy birthday, cara mia." he whispered in my ear and kissed my temple "Well, I made breakfast…"

"Oh no you didn’t? Really?" I laughed and he pinched my hip "Thank you Charlie bear. It looks amazing! All of it!" I kissed his cheek and he smiled.

"And don’t worry! I also made eggs!" he laughed and walked back to the stove, shovelling the scrambled eggs into a bowl, setting it down in front of me.

"You are perfect! And I’m impressed! Look at what you did! And my kitchen is still fully intact! You didn’t burn down the building! Nothing looks burned! Amazing job, I’d say!"

"I tried my best for you! And now come on! Cooking makes hungry!" he poured me some orange juice and I loaded up my plate.

"So we’re having a cheat day today…" I chuckled and Charles shrugged his shoulders.

"I won’t tell JK if you’re not telling Andrea."

I looked at him for a moment, trying the pancakes that were surprisingly good and nodded.

"You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister!"

After having a little from everything, I was full and shoved my plate away, looking over at Charles, who smiled at me.

"You go ahead and take a long shower, or maybe a bath? I take care of the kitchen and then we can do whatever you want to, I only reserved us a table for later tonight, at Antonio’s. So you tell me what you want to do." he stood up and I thought for a moment.

"How about we just have a nice and relaxed day and stay in? Watching a movie? Doing some bed activities?" I wiggled my eyebrows and Charles smirked.

"Sounds good to me… maybe I’ll join you under the shower when I’m done here, when you take your time…" he kissed my cheek and I got up, stretching a little.

"I think that can be arranged." I smiled and walked back into my bedroom "But don’t take too long, or I’m starting without you…"

"Don’t you dare, cara mia!"

"As much as I enjoyed this… but I think we should get up and dress up! Your phone almost explodes and mine as well… they’re all asking why you’re not picking up, they want to congratulate you." Charles laughed.

"Text them we’re busy. We want to start round four!" I groaned and he leaned over me.

"Let’s get up. I’ll give you your present and then you can FaceTime Liam, he insists on seeing you, and then after that… we can go for round four, maybe five? Depends on how fast we are…" he nudged my nose with his and I sighed.

"Okay…" he smiled and kissed the tip of my nose, before he pushed himself up, walking into the bathroom "What a cute little butt." I purred and he turned around "But that front view…" I whistled and Charles raised an eyebrow.

"Cara mia, you are a greedy, little minx! Get your cute little ass out of bed now and dress up!" he chuckled and I got out of bed, following him.

"I need a little shower as well, I’ll join you." I got in behind him and he groaned.

"You’re making this really not that easy for me…" he turned around and I laughed.

"I just wanted to take a shower?" I tried to look as innocent as possible at him and he burst out laughing.

"That won’t work!" he gently pushed me against the tiles, kissing my neck down to my collarbone, all the way up on the other side. I moaned a little, grabbing his hair as he kissed along my jaw, when he suddenly pulled away and opened the door, stepping outside. Leaving me heavily breathing against the wall "I told you it won’t work." he smirked, wrapping a towel around his hip, leaving the bathroom.

"That was unfair!" I shouted but only heard him laughing. Frustrated I washed myself and then got out and dressed up. Walking back into the living room where Charles sat on the sofa, waiting for me. He patted the space next to him and I sat down.

"Happy birthday, cara mia!" he said again, kissing my cheek and handing me a little red box.

I opened the box and found a necklace, very fine and subtle, just the way I liked it, a little pendant attached with what looked like...

"Coordinates?" I asked and looked up and Charles smiled.

"Yeah…" he answered and I took my phone out "It’s where everything began…"

I opened Google Maps and typed the coordinates in. 47°34'19.5"N 7°21'57.2"E

The karting track in Sundgau. Where we met for the very first time. In April 2006.

"Charles…" I almost choked up and looked at him.

"Turn it around…" he said and with a shaking hand I turned the pendant.

Where my forever began. 8/4/2006. 08:37.

"You remembered the time?" I sniffled and he nodded.

"I remember everything…" he whispered and he wiped the tears from my cheeks. I closed the distance between us and kissed him "I take from that, you like it?"

"I love it, that’s a difference. Big difference! Merci, mon cœur!" I hugged him and he chuckled a little.

"But that’s not all…" he said after a moment and I sighed.

"Of course it’s not…" I rolled my eyes playfully.

"You know me just too well!" he laughed and got up "Okay, for this one you have to close your eyes!"

"Okay?" I did as told and closed my eyes, waiting for Charles signal to open them again.

"SURPRISE!" a lot of voices screamed and I opened my eyes, right in time for Liam and Benji to tackle me into the pillows of my sofa.

"Happy Birthday!" they both kissed my cheeks and I hugged them close, looking up at my parents, Sissy, Shima and the two Daniels.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked and got up, leaving the boys on the sofa.

"It’s your birthday?" Mum said and hugged me "Happy birthday, sweetheart." she kissed my cheek.

"My turn now!" Dad pushed Mum gently away and pulled me in his arms, almost crushing me "Happy birthday, my little owl! I don’t care how old you’re turning! For me, you’ll always be my little girl!"

"Thanks Pops!" I whispered and he pulled away, kissing my head.

"Thank you guys so much!" I smiled at them, once everyone had congratulated me, and then looked at Charles who stood at the kitchen island, a beautiful cake on display, sparklers sparkling away. He waved me over and as soon as I stood next to him they all began to sing, the door opening, Arthur and Pascale arriving with some bottles of champagne. I smiled and wiped a tear from my cheek. Together with Charles I blower the candles out and they all cheered for me, while Dad and Danny Ric opened up the champagne, pouring everyone a glass.

"Lizzie, my sweet girl, happy birthday!" Pascale kissed both my cheeks and hugged me.

"Thank you so much for coming! All of you!" I smiled and Arthur pulled me to his side, kissing my cheek.

"Happy birthday, Lizzie." he smiled and I bumped my hip a little against his.

"Thanks Arthi!"

"Who wants some cake?" Charles asked and Liam and Benji jumped excitedly up and down "Alright, two slices for the boys, coming right up."

"Biiiig slices!" Benji said and Liam nodded.

"We’re going out for dinner later on! So no biiiig slices!" Sissy said and they pouted a little.

"Okaaaaay."

"We’re are we going?" Arthur asked and I looked at Charles.

"Still Antonio’s! Don’t worry!" he chuckled and I smiled. He knew me all too well. Birthday dinner at Antonio’s was an old tradition of ours. It didn’t matter when we got the time to go, but always around our birthdays we would have dinner there. With a full stomach and a content smile on my face I rummaged through my kitchen drawers, looking for a lighter when I finally found one. I lit up the candle and walked over to the sofa, where Charles was sitting, zapping through the channels. As he saw me approaching he looked up and choked.

"Cara mia…" he whispered as I sat the cupcake, a golden H and a single lit up candle on it, down on the coffee table in front of me.

"It’s not just my birthday…" I said quietly and cupped his cheek, wiping away a stray tear "Come on. Together. Like he always let us do it…"

"Happy Birthday, Papa." Charles whispered and we blew out the candle. We watched the smoke dissolve into thin air and he turned his head, looking at me "Thank you, Lizzie." then he kissed me gently, before pulling me into a tight hug.

"Happy Birthday, Hervé."

"Lizzie, your season started not as good as last year, from podium to barely into the points. Was the good start last season maybe just beginners luck?" the first question of the day and I already was over it.

"Last year I had a bit of luck, with the cars in front of me having some issues. This year I had to start from P17 after I got impeded and failed to set a good time. So I’d say from P17 to P10 is not that bad." I tried to stay as calm as possible.

"Your boyfriend didn’t have the best start as well, with retiring from a podium place?"

"No, he didn’t."

"And this weekend he has to already serve a ten place grid penalty because he needed a new ICE?"

"First of all, he didn’t need a new ICE, he needed new control electronics. And second, is there a question in this statement for me to answer?" I was more than annoyed at this point.

"How does he feel?"

"Delighted." I inwardly rolled my eyes "But you know what? Why don’t you ask him that yourself? Yeah? Thank you!" I walked away and Julie sighed "Sorry."

"No it’s fine. That dude was an idiot. We wait for Sky UK." she looked ahead and I nodded "Alright. Let’s go." we walked over and fortunately the questions weren’t as stupid as the ones from before and I even joked a little with Nathalie Pinkham.

"Alright. That’s it for today." Julie lead me away and I was more than happy to leave the media pen.

"Thank god. Another question about my beginners luck last season and I would’ve lost it…" I sighed and she patted my arm.

"Yeah some idiots always have to ask stupid questions… funny that it’s mostly just men…" she shrugged her shoulders and I chuckled.

"I wonder why… although the interviewer from Canal+ was also a little… well yeah you know what I mean." I chuckled.

"Shitty? Bitchy? Annoying?" Julie laughed.

"All of that."

"Did she ask one question about this weekend?"

"Nope, not a single one. Only about Charles and I." I rolled my eyes.

"You do the talking on track, as always!" Julie nudged my shoulder and I laughed.

"I will try."

"So P12 for Charles, which means P2 for you tomorrow." Crafty smiled and I nodded.

"Yeah. A shame really. He did amazing though and I’m sure he’ll be catching up quickly."

"Just like Max?"

"Just like Max, from P15? Yeah? P15."

"The Audi looked a little more unpredictable around here than expected? What’s in for you tomorrow?"

"We’ll see I guess. We’re lacking race pace. That’s our biggest issue. Also our tyre management might be a factor."

"Thank you Lizzie!"

I walked to Charles, who was waiting for me, pulling me to his side.

"You did amazing! Don’t worry about the penalty, you’ll make up for it." I smiled at him and he sighed.

"Yeah, if my car makes it to the finish line." he chuckled a little.

"Don’t worry, I’ll push you over it."

"Thank you! How very nice of you!" he kissed my cheek and then pulled away "See you later?"

"Yup. I’ll wait for you. Your meetings always take way longer than ours…" I teased.

"That’s because we are a Top 3 team." he winked.

"Ouch. Although I’d say that’s because you talk about all the strategies you could fuck up…"

"Okay, I kinda deserved that." he laughed and squeezed my hand one last time before he walked away.

"How’s he doing?" Felix asked as soon as I entered the garage.

"Surprisingly good."

Felix cocked an eyebrow and I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Maybe he’s the Ferrari we have to be worried about tomorrow then?" he chuckled right as Valtteri entered the garage.

"Don’t worry, I’ll hold him up for a while!" he nudged my shoulder and I laughed.

"I’m more worried about Max. He’s seething! And when there’s one thing you don’t want behind you, it’s a pissed off Max. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about…"

"A pissed off Max was often behind you then back in karting?" Valtteri asked.

"More often than he would like to admit." I wiggled my eyebrows "Mostly because he was Mad Max and got penalties left and right… but anyways."

They laughed and we walked back together to discuss our strategy for the race ahead.

I got off the scooter and walked the rest up to our garage, frustration seeping through me. I pulled my helmet off and apologised to the team before I sat down for a moment, emptying an entire bottle of water.

"Ready?" Julie asked and I nodded, following her into the media pen. When I walked in, I clapped Alex on the shoulder and he turned around.

"What was that?" he asked and I just shrugged my shoulders, shaking my head.

"Lizzie. Sky UK first." Julie nudged ne towards Rachel Brooks and she smiled at me.

"Hey, Lizzie. Sorry to see you here already. Can you tell us what happened there?"

"I honestly don’t know? The most experienced driver on the grid totally misjudged the space he left me and clipped my front wing. Wouldn’t be that bad but the endplate got stuck under my front suspension so I had to retire. It’s a shame, really. I was doing quite good after the pit stop, making my way through the field, maybe this weekend a podium would’ve been possible… it’s like this. I can’t change it now unfortunately."

"There was a bit of confusion as it seemed, whether or not you should continue and come back to the pits or retire?"

"Yeah, the plate hit a sensor so the data the pit wall had was a bit confusing at first. But retiring was the best option, to avoid further damage."

"Your overall feedback of this weekend?"

"It’s still early in the season, but the feeling of the car was better this weekend. The pace was there, the tyre deg was better. I’d say we’re going in the right direction."

"Thank you Lizzie! See you in Australia!" Rachel smiled and I switched to the next interview, doing a full round and then returned back to the garage, 15 laps still to go. I unzipped my suit and rolled it down around my waist, taking the head phones Matt was offering me. Charles was doing his best to make it through the grid. But the pace just wasn’t there to get any further than P7 in the end. When he climbed out of his car I saw the disappointment on his face. Our team meeting wasn’t taking that long, Valtteri brought home some points for us, finishing in P8, but other than that there wasn’t too much to talk about. When I left, it was surprisingly Charles who waited for me at the car, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"That was fucked. Didn’t he see you?" he sighed and I shrugged.

"I don’t know. You heard him. It’s a racing incident, he shouldn’t even get a penalty in his opinion… so yeah." I said as Charles opened my door and closing it as soon as I was inside.

"Typical." Charles mumbled as he got in the car as well "You wanna go out tonight? Or stay in?"

"I don’t know. Honestly I’m not in the mood to socialise? It’s just so annoying! When one thing works out, some shit happens during the race. It’s a fucking circle."

"Staying in it is." Charles chuckled.

"No! If you want to go out, then go! Really! I can stay alone!" I looked at him.

"I was honestly hoping you would say you want to stay in…" he said sheepishly, grabbing my thigh "Our hotel has this huge infinity pool on the roof. It’s open 24/7 but at this time it’s mostly empty because it’s only accessible from the VIP floors. So what do you say? You. Me. A little midnight swim?"

"I don’t have a swimsuit with me…" I sighed and Charles squeezed my thigh.

"Who says you need one."

"Thanks man, I really appreciate it!" Charles thanked the hotel employee and the doors were closed. I watched how he walked up the stairs to the terrace with a smug smile on his face "The roof is ours for the next hours."

"I’m not even going to ask how you did that…" I chuckled, pulling the bathrobe tighter around my body "I honestly didn’t expect it to be this windy and fresh in the middle of the desert."

"Well, it’s the middle of the night." Charles chuckled and walked towards the bar, leaning over and pulling out a bottle of champagne and a bowl full of strawberries.

"You’re full of surprises, Mr. Leclerc." I said as he plopped down next to me, feeding me a strawberry.

"I try to impress you whenever I can…" he leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine "What do you say? Fancy a little swim?"

"Hmm… absolutely." I put my lips on his, sharing the taste of strawberries.

Charles cupped my cheek with one hand, while the other snaked down, pulling at the bathrobe string, untying the knot I made. When it fell open he slid his hand inside and I flinched a little, his hand cold from carrying the champagne bottle. He smirked and tugged at my bottom lip, before pushing the bathrobe of my shoulders. He kissed his way along my jaw, down the column of my neck, nipping at my collarbone. The bathrobe was gliding down my body, pooling around my waist. I untied his bathrobe, pushing it down his shoulders, as he stood up abruptly, his robe falling to the ground. He grabbed the bowl of strawberries and the bottle of champagne, setting them down on the edge of the pool before he turned around, picking me up.

"No! NO! You’re not jumping in there! I warn you Charles! I will-…" I began but it was already too late. Charles held me tight in his arms when he pulled me up again, water splashing around everywhere. I glared at him but he only laughed, kissing my forehead. I snuggled into him, expecting to be cold at any moment, but the water was surprisingly warm. Charles saw the confused expression on my face.

"It’s a heated pool… I might’ve asked to turn up the temperature a little." he chuckled and I kissed his cheek.

"You really thought of everything, didn’t you?" I beamed at him.

"Just trying to make everything as perfect as possible for you, cara mia." he whispered.

"You’re doing a good job. A very, very good job!" I replied and he brought me to the edge of the pool, a little ledge to sit on going around the pool wall. I looked over all the lights of the city while Charles opened up the champagne with a loud pop.

"Shit, I forgot glasses!" he sighed but I grabbed the bottle and took a big swig, face scrunching up "Very glamorous."

"You know me, I’m no lady." I shrugged my shoulders, taking another sip, before I handed him the bottle.

"But you look like one." he winked, or rather failed to do so and I chuckled. After taking a few gulps of champagne he sat the bottle down and sat behind me, pulling me into his lap and kissed my shoulder "This is way better than going out."

"Absolutely." I turned a little, snaking my hand around his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips almost touching, as I smirked leaning in even more, just to pull away, biting into a strawberry. Charles watched as a drop of the juice ran down my throat and groaned "Mhhh they’re so damn sweet." I picked up another strawberry, feeding it to him.

"Not bad, but I know something that would taste even sweeter." Charles whispered, his hot breath fanning over my ear "So much sweeter…" goosebumps erupted on my skin and I gasped, when he dragged his fingers through my folds.

"Charles…" I breathed out and he left open mouthed kisses down my neck, I closed my eyes, basking in the feeling.

"Yes, pretty girl?" he chuckled when I arched my back, grinding into his hand, moaning softly "Just tell me what you want…" my head began to swirl, when I felt his hard length pressed against my thigh.

"I want-… I want…" I began but had to stop when a wave of pleasure spread through my body. I grabbed his hand, pulling it closer to my core, moving with him "Please…"

"Please what?" I almost could hear him grinning "Come on…"

"Stop teasing!" I puffed out.

"Okay, okay…" he laughed and pulled his hand away and I huffed "Stop pouting!" he turned me in his lap, settling me down with my legs spread on his thighs "Ready?" he whispered and I nodded hastily.

"Yes!" I breathed out and a heatwave of pleasure spread through my body, a loud moan emanating from within my throat.

"Shhh! Not that loud, pretty girl! Do you want the whole hotel to hear us?" he groaned and the feeling of his muscular chest pressed against mine mad me clench "Careful… or I might think you’re into it…"

Charles POV:

I was pacing back and forth, waiting for Lewis‘ text when Lizzie walked in.

"I hate it!" she groaned and plopped down, head first, into the sofa.

"What’s going on?" I asked and sat beside her, turning her to look at me.

"Where should I start?" she sighed, raising her hands dramatically and I chuckled. She sat up and climbed into my lap, clinging onto me.

"Come on, tell me what’s bothering my little grumpy koala." I pinched her waist.

"I hate this racing calendar! I don’t like it to sit around for two weeks between races, going back and forth around the globe! Can’t they make it like we’re going in one way? Starting in Australia and working our way through until we’re ending the season in South America? No! Of course not! So now we have Australia next week and then almost an entire month until Baku!" she ranted.

"I know, they don’t think the calendar through… or rather not environmentally." I agreed with her.

"And then Miami! Why couldn’t that be a little earlier? Then I might’ve had a chance to get tickets! But no! First the calendar and then Ticketmaster spit in my soup!"

"What tickets?" I played dumb and she immediately pushed herself off of me.

"What tickets? WHAT TICKETS? Are you serious! I’ve been talking for weeks about The Era’s Tour! TAYLOR SWIFT!" she was fuming.

"Oh! Yeah! Of course! So no tickets because the website didn’t work and when it worked again all shows that would’ve worked out for you…" she glared at me "… for us were sold out! What a bummer!"

"What a bummer? No! Not just a bummer! It’s more like the end of the world!" she sighed again and I pulled her back into my lap.

"I know that sucks, but did you check for the shows after Australia? I mean, it’s like you said, we have almost a month between Melbourne and Baku?" Nope. All sold out. I already checked.

"That was the first thing I’ve checked right after they cancelled China! Nope." she mumbled.

"I’m sorry, cara mia! But that’s just her tour in the USA? Maybe she’ll be in Europe? Asia? South America? I’m sure we’ll find a way to see her! I’ll even help you and log in myself as soon as new tour dates are announced!" I cupped her cheeks, looking at her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really!" I promised her right when I saw a text incoming from Lewis "You will see her concert!" I picked up my phone and read the text "I promise you!"

"Thank you! You’re a good boyfriend!" she giggled and kissed my cheek as I texted Lewis back.

I sat at the piano, writing down notes when I felt like someone was watching me, I grinned and sat up, playing my melody.

"You know, I can feel you staring…" I said quietly and Lizzie chuckled a little, before she hugged me from behind.

"Did you compose that?" she asked and I nodded "It’s beautiful."

"It’s not ready yet… just an idea…"

"But a beautiful idea." she kissed the top of my head and sat down on the sofa.

"We’ll see… when’s the car coming?" I asked her and turned on the stool.

"In thirty minutes. Everything’s packed. Joris will be here any minute. We’ll pick up Andrea on the way and JK is already in Australia." Lizzie stretched a little and yawned "I really hope that I can sleep in the plane…"

"You didn’t sleep last night pretty well, felt you stirring around quite a lot?" I got up and sat down beside her, pulling her into me and leaning back.

"Yeah…" Lizzie hummed and I gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up "The doc said I might get a little fuzzy and anxious… after what happened last year in Melbourne… I guess he’s right."

"You mean, what happened with us?" I asked and she nodded slowly "I’m sorry…"

"What for? I was the one who left you at the airport, after you just saved my ass…" she looked at me with wide eyes.

"But I kissed you…"

"Yeah and it was a pretty damn good kiss that made me feel woozy for days! And I hated it!" she laughed but then looked at me "No seriously, it had to happen and I’m glad it did! Because look at where we’re now!"

"I guess you’re right." I nodded and kissed her cheek "Now come on. We gotta go soon!" I pulled her up with me and we got ready when Joris texted that he was downstairs where our car was already waiting.

I climbed out of the car, frustrated. Not just that I messed up Q1 and Q2, no, for some reason I was held up by Carlos for the whole first sector in my first run in Q3 and then couldn’t get my shit together for my second run. Just another miscommunication or whatever mishap and my own mistakes lead to a start from P7 in tomorrow’s race. I sat down my helmet and watched a replay of Lizzie walking behind the barrier towards the pit lane on the screens, her head hung low. I didn’t see what happened to her, just saw her car stuck in the gravel at one point. I walked outside the garage to look for her. She stood at the Audi pit wall, helmet still on, talking to Felix who squeezed her shoulder. She shook her head and then proceeded to walk into her garage. I passed her up and grabbed her hand.

"Hey." I said and she turned her head slightly "What happened?"

"That idiot just got back on track without looking! That’s what happened! And I had to brake and steer around him! With cold tyres! They locked up and I spun out!" she was seething, throwing her gloves on the table, then she pulled off her helmet "I swear it’s always him! And you know what? He probably won’t even get punished. Like always!" the way she looked and talked, I knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Did he spun out or why was he off track?" I asked her and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I don’t know. I was going around the corner when Pete said that he would be on the right, outside of track, just so that I know and as I rounded the corner he just… god how can he be so fucking stupid?" she threw her helmet on a cart and I saw how a lot of heads were turning.

"I get that you’re frustrated, but Lizzie, calm down. There’s cameras everywhere…" I said and pushed her inside the garage into the back "Calm down, okay?"

"I can’t calm down for fucks sake! It’s always the same!" she took a water bottle and downed it.

"I know it sucks! But you can’t change it now, okay? Do your talking on track!" I tried to cheer her up but she only chuckled.

"Yeah? How many times do I have to do the talking on track?"

"I’m afraid forever?" I grabbed her by the waist, pulling her in "It’s like this. Now, let’s go and have some fun with the media."

"Fun… yay…" she rolled her eyes.

"Come on!" I pulled her with me, Mia and Julie already waiting for us.

"Just hope and pray that he’s not there. I don’t know what I’ll say or do…" Lizzie mumbled and we laughed.

"Don’t worry, he was still deep in conversation with his dad and Mattia when I left." Mia said and gave me a pointed look, I sighed.

"What was that? Why are you looking like that?" Lizzie asked and I shook my head.

"Nothing. Don’t worry about it, cara mia." I said as we arrived in the media pen, Mia and Julie busy doing their job, looking for a spot for us.

"Are you sure?" she asked and I nodded, when Julie called her over.

"I think your needed."

"You too!" she smiled at me when Mia waved me over. I squeezed her hand and she walked off.

"Charles, P7 for you tomorrow. What went wrong today?" Danica Patrick asked.

"I wasn't on it. I wasn't driving well. I wasn't putting everything together, so that was my fault." I sighed.

"It seemed like there was some confusion in terms of track position between you and Carlos?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know what happened in the second run of Q3, whether it was a miscommunication with Carlos or whatever, but I found myself behind him for the whole first sector, which wasn't great. It’s like this sometimes. We'll speak at the debrief about that to try and improve those situations." I said when out of the blue Lizzie stormed over and hugged me "That’s new." I chuckled.

"I’m so sorry! I was so mad about my messed up quali that I didn’t even ask about yours! Fuck! I’m sorry, Charles." she whispered and I smiled, she pulled away and gave me a kiss when her eyes widened and she blushed, looking at me, then Danica as if she just now realised where she was "Oh my god! Fuck! I- I’m sorry! Really!" she said hastily and then sauntered off, stopping next to Julie to continue her interview, cheeks still slightly red.

"Now that was cute." Danica smiled at me.

"I didn’t mind it at all." I laughed.

"Last question. What do you think is possible tomorrow?"

"I think our car is good enough to fight for a podium? So yeah, that’s the goal. That should be doable."

I heard the door unlocking, soft steps towards me. Then Lizzie hugging me from behind, not saying anything until I finished playing.

"You’re done?" she whispered and I hummed.

"Yeah…"

"It’s beautiful. Really. I can’t believe that you actually will release it! I will listen to my boyfriend’s music on Spotify!" she kissed the side of my head and I chuckled a little.

"You’ll probably be my only listener." I said and she scoffed.

"Oh please! You have the most loyal fans out there! They will listen to it 24/7!" she laughed and stepped next to me "I’m serious! And if not? Then l’ll listen to it on repeat for the rest for my life!"

"Oh god no! I don’t want you to get depressed!" I groaned and pulled her down in my lap.

"I’m a Ferrari fan at heart. I know a thing or two about being depressed. Not to mention the emotional rollercoaster of being your fan…" she said and I gasped.

"Cara mia! My poor, little heart!"

"You’ll be fine!" she laughed, got up and plopped down on the sofa.

I got up as well and grabbed my phone, texting Jean from Verdigris. I sat next to Lizzie in silence for a while when I got a notification.

"It will be released at midnight." I said and she did a little happy dance.

"So, what’s the title?" Lizzie asked and I handed her my phone, she looked at it and sighed "I’m sorry." she whispered, kissing my cheek.

"It’s okay. I’m over it. The song helped me. I know it wasn’t Lances fault. It wasn’t my phone. Racing incident… it’s like this." I smiled sadly at her, thinking back to the race in Melbourne 2 weeks ago. The race that ended for me already in lap 1.

"It still sucks…" she took my hands in hers and squeezed them.

"It does. But next up is Baku… I should do good there!" I said determined and Lizzie nodded.

"Hell yeah!"

I packed my suitcase, making sure to not forget anything when I got a text from Charles, asking when I would pick him up. I checked the time and texted back, focusing back on packing. When I was sure I had everything, I dressed up, grabbed my suitcase and bag and switched off the light in the bathroom and bedroom. I then checked if all the remaining lights were out, threw my phone and headphones in my bag and slipped on my shoes. Right when I was about to leave my phone rang and I fished it back out of my bag.

"I’m on my way!" I sighed, rolling my suitcase out the door, switching off the light in the hallway.

"Passport?" Charles chuckled and I cursed, switching the light back on, running inside "Why don’t you just put your passport into your bag?"

"Because I’m not using the same bag all the time?" I rolled my eyes, opening the drawer, grabbing my passport.

"Alright. You got it now? Then I’ll see you in a bit." he said and hung up.

I locked the door and waited for the elevator, getting in. As I was already late, I kept on hitting the button for the underground parking garage again and again.

"Come on! Faster!" I groaned, jumping out of the elevator the second the doors opened, hurrying to my car. The moment I looked at it I stopped dead in my tracks.

A single red rose, stuck under the windshield wiper. The red of the rose was such a stark contrast to the white of my car. Almost like a droplet of blood in a field of snow. On unsteady legs I walked the last steps to my car. Shaky hand outstretched to pick off the rose. No note attached. No note under the windshield wiper. No nothing. I looked around, checking if any of the other cars had a rose as well. No. Just mine. It couldn’t be from Charles. He knew I didn’t like red roses. No. That rose. That was someone else. I unlocked the car, opened the hood and threw my suitcase in, then I got inside. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. He must’ve slipped inside when someone else left or entered the garage. When I opened my eyes again and started the car I flinched. When I looked into the rear view mirror I saw Diaz’ message for me: in bold red letters on my rear window: I can see you. I jumped out of the car, walked to the back and began to wipe off the paint with my sleeve, smearing it all over the window. Frantically I tried to get rid of the paint, get rid of Diaz’ presence. When it was mostly gone I looked at my sleeves. The red paint stained my sweater. I pulled it off. Grabbed the rose from the passenger seat and threw both items in the rubbish bin, before sitting back down in the car. I tried to calm myself down, driving off. But my hands were trembling. I shouldn’t drive like this, so I pulled over and leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes. A wave of nausea hit me but I tried to breathe through it. Suddenly someone knocked on my window and I flinched.

"FUCK!" I almost screamed and looked to the side, a little girl looking at me. I rolled my window down "What?" I said way more harshly than intended and she made big eyes and shook her head.

"No-nothing. Sorry." she walked away hastily and I groaned.

Great. I just blew off steam at an innocent girl. Good job. I opened up the door and scrambled out of the car, my legs still shaky.

"Hey! Umm- excuse me!" I walked towards the girl who stood next to what looked like her parents. She stared at me with big eyes, hiding behind her mothers legs "I’m really sorry for snapping at you like that! It’s just. You scared me a little and I’m late and I-… you know what? Doesn’t matter. Nothing of that is an excuse to snap at you! I’m really, really sorry!" I kneeled down in front of her and she slowly stepped around her mother "What’s your name?"

"Amelie." she whispered and I smiled at her.

"What a beautiful name! Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"I like your name too." she giggled.

"What? Really? Thank you!" she nodded and then reached inside her pocket, pulling out a bracelet, handing it to me "Did you do that yourself?" I took the bracelet and looked at it "Yeah? It’s so pretty!" I put it on and her smile got even bigger.

"I like your bracelets!" she said and I held out my hand for her to look at some of the fan bracelets I accumulated over the past months, but also some of my own.

"Which one do you like the most?" I asked her and she pointed at the rose gold one with a tiny heart "Good choice!" I took it off and secured it tightly around her wrist, she made big eyes and looked at me.

"Oh! No! She can’t- we can’t take that!" Amelie’s mother said but I shook my head.

"It looks way better on you anyway!"

"Can I take a picture with you?" the little girl asked shyly.

"Of course!" I put my arm around her father took a picture of us.

"Thank you!" Amelie smiled and hugged me.

"No, thank you for the beautiful bracelet!" I said and got up.

"Thank you! Really! All she talks about are Charles and you!" her mother said and I laughed.

"That’s also my favourites topic, you know!" I winked at the little girl.

"Good luck in Baku!"

"Thank you!" with a last wave I walked back to my car and got inside. The remnants of Diaz message still visible on my rear window. I started the engine and drove off, trying to ground myself, knowing that Charles would be suspicious if he would see me in my current state.

I pulled over in front of his house where he already stood, shaking his head. He stored his suitcase inside and then opened the door.

"I thought you’re German! Punctual!" he chuckled and got inside, careful to not step on my beg on the floor. Then he leaned over, kissing me. He pulled away immediately, looking at me "Why did you cry?"

"What?" I drove off, looking at the street ahead.

"You cried! Why? What happened?" he kept on staring at me.

"How do you wanna know if I cried?" I chuckled.

"I’ve seen the tears streak on your cheeks and your lips tasted salty. Like tears. Your eyes are a little puffy and red. So? Why did you cry?" he was persistent.

"Taylor Swift." I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"Taylor Swift?"

"Taylor Swift. That’s why I was so late! When I was getting ready I scrolled through Insta and someone uploaded a clip from The Era’s Tour… and yeah I might’ve cried because I will never ever gonna see her live in concert because of our job… don’t look at me like that!" I lied and he looked at me for a moment, before he relaxed back in the seat.

"My little drama queen." he laughed as he looked out the window "Now hurry up, or Max will fly without us."

"Yes, Sir!" I said, speeding away towards the heliport. Hoping Charles wouldn’t see the stains of the red paint on the rear window, I tried to distract him "So, Baku… what do you think? Can you do the three consecutive poles?"

"We’ll see I guess." he shrugged his shoulders, right as I steered onto the parking lot of the heliport.

"Yeah… but I believe in you!" I turned off the engine and looked at him, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he leaned in.

"Then I can do it."

Chapter 31 - Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the 2023 Formula 1 World Championship… full of racing, love, drama and trauma… 👀🙌

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3 @maeve-wileyy @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[punsmaster69]

20/FEB/20XX

papyrus adjusts the collar of my undershirt, and tugs at the edges of the argyle sweater he's summoned for me from the dark, unorganized depths of my dresser.

"I'M AWARE THAT YOUR STANDARDS REGARDING FORMAL ATTIRE ARE PARTICULARLY LOW..."

he straightens my collar a bit more.

"BUT EVEN AN INDOLENT SKELETON SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULD TRY TO LOOK AT LEAST SOMEWHAT PRESENTABLE ON YOUR FIRST OFFICIAL DATE WITH YOUR NEW GIRLFRIEND!"

that word, which he hasn't let me correct him on.

that word, which i don't have proof to still deny being right or wrong, just yet.

"valentine's day doesn't count, huh?"

"OF COURSE IT DOESN'T!"

"NOT IF THE OFFICIAL PARTNER TITLE ONLY CAME ABOUT MID-PROCESS OF THAT ONE."

hands on hips, leaned forward; he discerningly stares at my collar for a few more moments. i push his hands away as he reaches for it again.

"it's definitely fine, bro."

replacing his hands to where they were on his hips, he steps back.

"...I'LL HAVE TO IRON THAT SHIRT LATER."

giving my appearance one last inspection -

crouching in front of me to pick a ball of fur from my shoulder.

-papyrus deems my attire now "date" ready.

"YOU STILL SEEM ANXIOUS."

"I CAN LEND YOU MY DATING MANUAL IF YOU'D LIKE!!"

"..i'll be ok. thanks for the offer, bro. and for all this."

i gestured to the outfit.

"SHE'LL CERTAINLY BE IMPRESSED BY YOUR OUTING-RELEVANT LOOK!"

with a proud stance.

"should one usually have a specific outfit for going to a café?"

"WHAT? OF COURSE YOU SHOULD! A PREPARED SKELETON HAS AN OUTFIT FOR EVERY OCCASION!!"

poking his exposed sternum through the slit at the top of his shirt, i looked him straight in the sockets.

"what's the occasion for this one?"

breaking the stare, his gaze fixated itself anywhere else as he repressed a flustered look.

"I-IT'S JUST A REGULAR OUTFIT! FOR DOING REGULAR ANYTHING-THINGS!! EXPLICITLY NON-SPECIFIC."

"did mtt put you up to this?"

"NO!"

at his side this time, i poked the shiny star design across the black fabric of the shirt.

"seems like a very 'mettaton' choice."

"HE DIDN'T PICK THIS OUT FOR ME."

"did you pick it out for 𝘩𝘪𝘮?"

"A-"

entirely freezing.

"N-NO!!"

"METTATON AND I ARE BOTH FASHIONABLE MONSTERS, OUR FASHION STYLES ARE BOUND TO OVERLAP SOMETIMES!!!"

"so where're you two going toda-"

papyrus shoved me to the front door.

"YOU'RE JUST STALLING!! GO, ALREADY!!!!"

"ok, ok. have fun with your crush-"

the front door was slammed behind me. i heard a side window open, followed by the fading sound of a skeleton running off somewhere.

——

i read the page.

i read the page again.

i read the page a third time.

i realize this isn't working.

instead of reading the same page over and over while hoping the words suddenly stick this time, i set aside my book and pull my cup of coffee closer. i pretend like i'm taking a break to watch the town through the window.

when i look up, she's doing the same.

"Not a very busy day, is it?"

"it's hard to say small towns ever are."

"True as that may be, it really is too nice for as few monsters to be about as there are."

"yeah, why isn't everyone outside enjoying the sun? like us?"

"...Our plans were made 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 knowing of the weather's plan to be nice. We do not count."

"our plans to sit quietly and read?"

we both turned our heads to our set aside books.

a smile crept across her face.

"...It seems neither of us were 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥-y for sitting quietly at the moment, were we?"

"don't have the 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦-ience for stories right now, unfortunately."

"I must confess - I was reading a while before you arrived."

"late, sorry."

"Fashionably late."

i flicked the collar papyrus was so set on straightening this morning with my thumb.

"paps insisted i be."

"Oh? Has he been attempting to adjust your wardrobe? It would explain the shift in clothing choices lately."

i decide that's why.

"yeah, he says i should try to look 'at least somewhat presentable' on.."

deciding immediately on a word change -

"somewhat presentable with you rather than just having my jacket n' shorts all the time."

"With me?"

"how i'm constantly embarrassing such a pretty lady with my drab attire in public, y'know."

"I would not consider your... 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 dressing style embarrassing. In anything you wear, I find you to be just as charming."

maybe my face got a little warm.

"..Though."

she leaned to the side to see around the table, so her eyes could make their way up the entirety of my outfit. extra effort was made to ignore how long it felt like her gaze lingered.

"I certainly approve of Papyrus' choices today. Cannot complain in that regard."

"..maybe i oughta take some more of his suggestions then."

"It is good, of course..."

she made an obvious once-over at my outfit again. i distracted myself by tapping my coffee cup a few times and taking a long sip.

"..But I wonder if it would look even better on my bedroom floor?"

coffee came out of my nose.

my reaction sent her into a laughing fit.

"Hehe- Sorry, sorry. I had heard that one recently and the chance to use it now was much too tempting."

"speakin' of floors, that..."

hiding my face with my hand was all i could do.

"heh, definitely floored me."

"Apologies again."

"s'alright. it was a good one, i'll give you that."

taking a deep breath and shoving my hands into my pockets.

"inserted with appropriate timing and all."

something in my pocket brushed against my right hand.

"Well.. 'appropriate' is subjective."

peeking at the object, i stopped.

"It wasn't really 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 in any manner."

i stared at the text on the object in my right hand.

"COUPLE'S DISCOUNT BRACELET" stared back.

"..Sans?"

my attention was snapped back to toriel.

"sorry. what's up?"

"Have I made you uncomfortable? I'm very s-"

"no, it's..."

opening my hand on the table to drop the rubbery bracelet between us.

toriel's eyes widened before she sheepishly pulled her matching one from her pocket.

for a guy without a stomach, it sure did feel like butterflies.

the question i've been too cowardly to ask outright gnawed at me.

i stuttered... 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 out.

"......a-are we..?"

tori undid the rubber latch on one of the bracelets and connected it with the other. keeping eye contact with me, she tugged on the interlocked bracelets and cocked her head slightly.

i nodded.

turning the bands over in her hands, toriel contemplated something.

"...I would like for you to be able to ask."

"if we're-"

"To be partners."

everything in me felt like it had been paused.

i couldn't get any words to come out.

all i could hear was my soul racing.

i clenched my fists, and...

"......"

couldn't look her in the eyes any longer.

she put her hands over my own.

"Then I will wait for you."

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

ok what about soft moments w the main six???

The Arcana HCs: the best part of the day with M6

~ @godslayer143 requested something like this too, I think their words were "romantic tidbits throughout the day" and something about that phrasing made me melt. anyways here you go, much love from - brainrot ~

Julian

Every evening you spend with him is a gift

He's got the kind of anxious energy that peaks in the late mornings and he likes to fill his day with things to do and people to talk to and places to see

He really mellows out when the sun begins to set, and that's when he comes home and realizes that he's forgotten to eat a meal or hydrate (he's trying, he promises, he just gets distracted) and that's when you've learned to have your time free to catch your breath together

Sometimes this looks like having a hot plate of food ready or a cool glass of lemonade, sometimes it means sitting next to him and asking about his day while he strips off all the heavy outer layers of his clothing and lets the day's sweat air out

Those little moments of grounding become the thing he measures his days with and you will never fully understand how much he appreciates them

He in turn likes to make you feel special, every night is date night

Maybe it's drinks at the Raven, maybe it's attending or watching him perform a play at the community theater, maybe it's a walk on the beach while he tells you about his days at sea

He's a hopeless romantic, and he's hopelessly romantic for you

Asra

If mid-morning wasn't your favorite time of day before, it is now

Because that is when they wake up

You've got your own schedule to keep but now you know to be free around 10 AM and have some tea on hand

They're the most refreshed when they wake up, the light is golden and the air is warm, the day is full of the unknown, every muscle is relaxed from sleep, and when they start to emerge from their pile of sheets and pillows the first thing they get to look at is you

There is nothing wrong with being a naturally guarded person, but these are the moments when he can be completely open with you and he treasures each one

Drowsy cuddles are the best, the lines from the pillow are pressed into their cheek, they have the fluffiest bedhead, their clothes are rumpled, and they're fixing you with the most lovesick gaze

You have never seen dimples look so soft, he's pressing chaste little kisses to whatever part of you he can reach and murmuring sleepy sweet nothings just to watch you blush

He's going to spend the rest of the day trying to make you feel as loved as waking up to you did for him

It'll be creative little gestures, a little note on the counter, your favorite drink in the coolbox, maybe a surprise date rambling through the alleyways until you find a new place to eat

Nadia

Late nights with her are unparalleled

She is fully dedicated to taking care of Vesuvia, and her days are tightly scheduled with meetings and committees and important dinners

But once Vesuvia's asleep, she can dedicate all her attention to you

You know being around people and maintaining a city's well-being is tiring, so you like to gather everything she needs to relax with you

You got Portia to write down her evening routine in detail, so when Nadia's finally finished her state dinner you have her bath drawn and your hands free to de-style and brush and wash her hair

Once you're both in your dressing gowns you'll go somewhere quiet to enjoy the night view

A lot of the time it's a slow walk through the wilder parts of the palace gardens, breathing in the cool night air, talking about the day and checking in with each other

Often it's going up to the contemplation tower and opening the windows, sharing a nightcap and stargazing

The sleep she gets after nights with you is restful and dreamless, and it makes her want to give you the same peace it brings her

She may be busy, but you will always be her priority and she makes sure you know that

Muriel

Early mornings with Muriel are spectacular

Unless you're the type to go to bed a few hours after sunrise, he is definitely up before you are

He has chickens to feed, and a host of protective wards to refresh

And now, he has you to make breakfast with

It takes some effort to consistently open your eyes as the sun is rising and he's just returning from his walk around the perimeter, but it's worth it to cook next to him

You've been adding new items to the menu besides just eggs, and now you two have the perfect synchronized dance as you assemble a breakfast of yogurt, nuts, fruit, and bread

You'll sit together in the doorway, watching the sun rise and mist clear, snuggled next to him for warmth in the morning chill with Inanna laying over your feet

These are the moments that tell Muriel that all is right in the world, something he rarely experienced before he met you

He used to sleep to escape the discomfort of going through life, but now he looks forward to waking up so he can begin a new day with you

He in turn wants you to feel empowered to make whatever decisions you want to, and will happily sit down with you in the evenings with a hot drink and listen to you tell him all your thoughts

Portia

You have a lunchtime tradition with her

It's one of the few points in the day that you can plan on having free, without expecting to have something you want to do with it besides eat with each other

Mornings are an organized rush to get out the door, and evenings are full of social activities, but lunch is one hour to sit and eat with minimal interruptions

You take turns packing a picnic and you'll meet up wherever works - in the palace gardens if you're in Vesuvia, on the ship deck if you're on a trip, on the front steps of the cottage if it's your day off

She makes the best sandwiches and Asra taught you the skill of perfect tea brewing, and there's always baked goods somewhere

She'll kick off her shoes and sit in the sun, her hair shining and her face steadily freckling, blue eyes twinkling as she schemes for your evening plans and belly laughing about all the funny things she's heard and seen so far

As someone whose schedule is organized around other people's activities, you organizing your schedule around time with her means the world to her

She wants you to always feel as relevant and important as you make her, and it shows. Whatever challenge you want to take on, she's putting her all into it right next to you

Lucio

He's at his best in the afternoons

He is a naturally early riser, but he's a naturally early riser who doesn't like mornings, so he tends to pout his way through the first several hours of the day

Evenings are when he really comes alive, which means he's too energetic to stop and connect

Afternoons are when he's just been rejuvenated by lunch, when the air is nice and warm and the day is at its busiest, when there is still work to be done and therefore a task to focus on

When you're on the road with him, it means swinging your clasped hands between the two of you as he teaches you the rowdiest drinking songs and tells you of the mischief he got up to as a kid

Since your childhood memories are faint at best, he likes to retell his childhood like you were a part of it, and imagine what sort of youth he'd have had with you

On off days, it means a sparring session, practicing footwork, strengthening your grip, learning new techniques

He's beautiful in his element like this, golden hair and arm glinting in the sun, a rosy glow across his face, and his sharp, proud smile as he compliments your hard work

You were quick to recognize and encourage the good in him, and he is determined to do the same for you in every way he can

[daystarvoyage]

Hi! I read somewhere about someone not liking Luz's ending since she "didn't grow as a person" at the end of the owl house. They said that she only became more depressed or traumatized but she's still the same cheerful and helpful girl like in the first episode of season 1. Do you agree?

Hello Hope you have a great day from the brown sugar queen, I know it’s late by the time you get this so ima clear a lot,

time for the tea.

Now i have all the love and heart for my girl Luz Noceda but lemme me tell you her personality made me look at how she was handled gave me a SIDE-EYE besides that,

Yes, i agree on this, definitely,

I felt That the crew wanted to do so much with the show but felt they had no idea writing Luz, however they too had there drawbacks, Yes I LOVE LUZS CHARACTER AND SHE IS SELFLESS A GOOD FRIEND (even if it’s the wrong person) Loyal, and cheerful. How we get moments that

Luz's character can be bastardized!

i feel fans try to view her as this bubbly girl boss, we know and love, however we overlook her flaws cause of discourse. she’s this impressionable, unruly, explosive girl with self imaging issues & unresolved grief, that effected her lifestyle.

I truly do depict her as a girl failure which ill get to a list of reasons, I’ll be getting into

EDITED its Masculization

heres a term masculinization comes to her character writing, style-wise, cause this word has been used throughout the animation to the point it’s a trope.

Now let’s get down to reasons why, she gets to the way she is.

Luz wants to do so much for others, that she hasn't practiced learning about self-love and acceptance, it all backtracks in her past of her deceased father & trying to relate to earth kids with opposite interests that can be harmful.

I felt they truly had fun time to an extent how they can push her in a negative direction, (this goes for hunter which I’ll do a post/video soon.)

how they wanted her to be more of an edge lord along the series run, (and the proper writing of the show didn’t help.)

Heck to the point in season 3, she never interacted with anyone on earth in her school, which is concerning, cause that can lead to self-harm or failed relationships, also known people as kikimora or talking to her other friends in season 3 coulda gave her a wake up call.

ALSO CAN WE BRING UP LYING TO HER LOVE ONES OUT OF NO WHERE! Season 1

DRAGGING THEM THROUGH MORTAL PERIL IN SEASON 2!

AND NO NEURODIVERAGENCE DOESNT EXCUSE BAD BEHAVIOR OR BLACK FEATURES BEING MINIMIZED.

2.They should've let a POC (person of color) write Luz cause of how she turned out Personality-wise throughout the series, which I rewatched, along critic videos and yes even in season 3 they decided to make her some shonen wannabe edge lord,(A wannabe Pokemon Goh But more emo.)

Luz's is flawed, as a character & written wise, felt the show didn’t know how to write for POC, cause fans who are another ethnicity might view this, and say oh, where portrayed as this etc, but without our black features or even how where portrayed in society in social norms.

Yes I did a post on her fashion & wardrobe and how it affects a character, boy they got my girl looking a hobo at times. ( and the good so called hair symbolism could’ve made Luz even better.)

ALSO (I may be ranting but hope ya listen)

Hated how they tried to Mary Sue her at certain episodes when she's faced with problems or issues that can affect everyone in dire times, for example,

her willingness to learn magic, which she can be impressionable and wanting Praise for the wrong reasons, but To be loved I Understand.

She is a person wanting acceptance and tolerance ( which that whole wanting to be understood season 3 dialogue could've been for season 1), just to be liked by a new world, would have fleshed out her character more, and given the viewers and her friends reasoning why she does staggering things.

also when she wanted to get to learn magic from her sensei, Knowing Eda knew how unpredictable & reckless at times luz can be, but Eda has her issues. throughout 4 episodes I think its been dragged out she has done stupid things to put others in harm's way even OWLBERT.

3.she can act nonchalant & ambivalent in dire situations, (to the point her friends should've Gotten angry with her actions, GUS AND WILLOW PERIOD) But don't worry all that's being glazed with the Mary Sue trope, discourse, & her being submissive to amity,

which she can take many stabbings and hits for a cause you know all is well with a Good ship. INSERT SARCASM

tragically i do feel she ended up a girl failure, But they Try hard at girl bossing her up, cause she was put in situations where she didn't have dire punishments and consequences. plus excepting a power she had no choice accepting at the season finale,

Comment below for more, about how Luz should be improved or the fact the series could've written her better.

Hopes this answers all your questions, have a great starlight day. glad we can unlock the topic with a key, & sip some tea.

A VIDEO I DID DOWN BELOW FOR MORE ON LUZ.

[madman479r]

Peter brings home a stray

Felicia let out a tired sigh as she entered her apartment, well, her and Peter's apartment. She wasn't going to let her spider live in that festering shithole he called an apartment so she invited him to live with her at her place.

Anyway, Felicia stepped foot in her home and stretched, feeling the tension around her muscles leave along with the relieved sigh she gave out.

Only then did she notice 'Peter' in the kitchen, his back to her, but his suit was different.

Instead of the red and blue tights, it was red all over and he wore what looked like a light blue hoodie over it with torn off sleeves and a larger spider emblem across the torso. He also had a large belt around his waist and ankle pouches.

It seemed like he had yet to notice her so she leaned on the kitchen doorway and admired the view, specifically the ass.

"Hmm, Spider. Trying a new look?" She asked, breaking the silence.

'Peter' spun around and looked at her with wide eyes, as if he was caught somewhere he shouldn't be. "Uh...?" He dumbly muttered, sounding confused on what to say or do.

Felicia didn't pay much mind, walking over with a sway of her hips. "Not my choice of style, think it should have some black, but as long as it shows off that spectacular behind, I'm all for it." She smirked.

'Peter's' eyes darted all over, backing away like a cornered animal, still at a loss for words "i-i-I- uuuuuh!"

Felicia started to wonder what was wrong with her boyfriend and leaned into him. "What's wrong? Don't tell me I still get you all worked up and flustered." Felicia whispered into 'Peter's' ear.

The sound of the bathroom door opening and a familiar voice made the woman pause dead in her tracks. "Oh. Hey, Felicia!"

That voice was familiar when it shouldn't be because the owner of that voice was right in front of her.

Felicia slowly turned around to see... Peter by the kitchen door.

Felicia looked in front of her again and saw 'Peter'.

Looked back behind her and saw Peter.

In front of her. 'Peter'.

Behind her. Peter

She did the motion a few more times before looking at the Peter in the doorway and calmly said. "Peter... what the fuck?"

Peter, if that even who the fuck he was, noticed the other 'Peter' and his eyes widened. Not in confusion or fear, but understanding.

"Oh! Yeah I was waiting for you to get here but I needed the bathroom, just my luck you get home when I'm busy." Peter joked and cleared his throat as he noticed his girlfriend's unamused face.

"Uh, Felicia, meet my clone. Ben Reilly." Peter introduced.

Felicia turned back to this 'Ben' who stood there, mouth agape and speechless.

Felicia stared at the clone for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. She nearly kissed someone who wasn't Peter. Doesn't matter if it was clone, that was unacceptable in her eyes.

Her eyes wandered to his hair and Felicia knew exactly what to do.

*10 minutes later.*

Peter stood outside the bathroom door, listening in as the taps ran water and mist came out from under the door. Ben's pained grunts heard over the running water. "Please! Please God have mercy!" His clone begged.

"Felicia, go easy on him! He doesn't deserve this!" Peter urged.

Inside the bathroom, Felicia had a stern look on her face as she scrubbed Ben's head, holding the clone in place even as he tried to escape her claws. A open pack of blonde hair dye sitting close by.

"Not making that mistake again. Not making that mistake again." Felicia repeatedly muttered to herself, scaring Ben all the more.

***Omake***

Felicia sat on her sofa watching TV, it was one of those nights she just wanted be a couch potato. Besides, Peter was patrolling with Ben tonight, so it wasn't like he was alone.

It took a while, but Felicia had grown used to seeing Ben around. She couldn't very well tell Peter to get rid of him, not when Ben just reminded her of Peter too much and Peter had considered the clone his brother. The pair even managed to help Ben get a place to live, which Peter visited frequently to check up on his brother.

Ben was just confused about who he was, sure he had Peter's memories but he was like a lost, uncertain child in a big scary world and Peter, bless his heart, wasn't going to let his brother be all alone like he was.

Ben even helped them out a lot, it paid off having two spider-men, allowed Peter to be able to relax and slow down.

Yeah. Felicia decided that Ben was a good thing in their lives.

The sound of the balcony window door sliding open altered her on Peter's arrival, so she got up from the couch and turned to greet her boyfriend...

Only to once again see two Spider-men standing before her, one was her boyfriend as evidenced by the red and blue spandex.

But the other wore a mostly red suit but was black around the shoulders, collar and mask with ruby red lenses.

Peter removed his mask with a smile. "Felicia! I'd like you to meet my other clone, Kaine!" He excitedly introduce as the other spider-man removed his own mask.

His face was a lot less friendly, having what looked like a permanent frown on his face along with a scar that ran across his face, starting from the right side of his forehead and down diagonally towards his left chin.

Felicia stared at Kaine for a few seconds before heading towards her bedroom, only to re-emerge with a electric shaver in hand. "We can do this easy or hard. What would you prefer?"

"Felicia!" Peter cried out.

"Try it." Kaine growled.

"Kaine!" Peter exclaimed.

*20 MINUTES AND STRUGGLING LATER*

Kaine looked at himself in the mirror, running a hand over his now buzz cut hair. "... Damnit. It looks cool." He hated to admit.

[just-a-space-rabbit]

Henchman's homework 😐📝🐕

Based on this prompt by: @heroes-villains-side-blog TW: none!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Supervillain ate my homework…” Henchman said flatly. They felt so stupid hearing their own words, but what else were they going to do? lie? 

Professor looked up from their several piles of paperwork with a raised eyebrow. ‘Why am I doing this?’ Henchman thought. ‘Clearly Professor did not believe that, because why would they!’ 

“Is Supervillain your dog's name…? Or…?” Professor asked, confused.

Henchman twisted uncomfortably on the spot, their face were not really showing any clear emotions, before mumbling a small “no… ”

Professor just looked at them stunned for a while. The excuse was one thing, but the fact that the excuse was coming from Henchman of all people. That's another level. “So you are really trying to tell me that Supervillain, THE SUPERVILLAIN ate your homework?” 

Henchman bit their lip, not meeting Professors eyes as they nodded. Internally they began to curse themself. ‘How am I even going to explain this without outing myself as a villain? Can’t just go all. ‘Yeah, Scientist had an experiment gone wrong making all this mess!’ This was such a dumb idea, I should have just taken the fail grade instead!’ 

“I… Henchman, you cannot possibly think that I can believe that?” Professor said, while trying their best not to sound too harsh on them. “Firstly, how did Supervillain even eat your homework? Or for a better question, why would Supervillain eat your homework?”

A small silence fell in-between the two as Henchman froze trying to form a single sentence. Finally there was a small nervous sound as Henchman asked them “He… he turned into a dog?”

“What?”

“A Big Dog! Giant even! Might have been one of Scientist's experiments that went badly wrong, turning Supervillain into it… or something like that… I don’t know….” Henchman added even more nerves as the professor's confused look began to stress them out. ‘Oh god this is not going to end well…’

“Ok, that is certainly an interesting story, but how did that end up with your homework being eaten?”

At those words all the color drained from Henchman’s face as they tried to find the least suspicious words they could. “Well, I… um… my home was caught in the crossfire,” they said. “I had just come home from printing my homework at the library.” Which was technically true, as they lived at Supervillain’s lair. But the library was really just the office room. 

“When Supervillain just burst through the door and ate it! Before they left, running off to cause mayhem somewhere else… It was on the news!” They said before adding, “not them eating my homework! But Supervillain, as a dog, was on the news… so you might have seen it.”

“Do I look like someone that has time to watch the news recently?” Professor said as they were getting frustrated at this outlandish story. 

Henchman's eyes glanced away for a second, onto the professor's desk that was filled with coffee cups and exam papers. “I guess not… hang on a moment.” Henchman said, before they dragged out their phone typing away. “Here it is,” they said, handing the phone over to Professor. 

The photo cover of the article showed what looked to be a giant dog, it was towering over the hero that it was mid fighting, or playing? The dog was covered in a ripped up supersuit with but the outline and color did seem to match Supervillain’s logo on it.

There was an inaudible noise as Professor looked further into the article. “Well, that is certainly something…” they said, trying to get back on track. “HANG ON!” they suddenly yelled. “If you were printing the homework, then why didn’t you just print a new one?”

“Oh… yeah… that” Henchman said as they opened their mail styled bag bringing out what seemed to be some form of electronic junk. “Supervillain also ate my laptop. Sadly the part they ate had the harddrive on it and I had not made a backup…”

Professor stared at the laptop in disbelief for what felt like ages. The laptop that had very clear, and very giant teeth marks outlining a missing chunk. Snapping back into the present there was a small  “Um, Henchman?”

“Yes, professor?”

“Why did you not start with showing me that?” they asked, trying to fold back the flood gate of questions.

“I... I did not think about that…”

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie⁓

This week i've doubled the usual post, just 'cause i feel the urge to catch up with the chapters on AO3.

I've liked writing this part, jumping between feelings, digging a little into this kink i find interesting. I would like to explore it just a little futher, but i need to...contextualize it (at least from Ghost's point of view. I don't think he's a "kink" kinda guy. I'll convince him somehow).

I can see how my english writing style is still a bit rough compared to how i write in italian (wow, i'm goddamn Captain Obvious). I would like to improve, to let it be more fluent, more descriptive, more...melodious? Does it make sense?

So I'll keep on.

Like, forever. I hope.

It's a curse. I'm cursing all of you to read my work for the eternity.

Sowwy

DISCLAIMER (Does someone read them?): how Dom/Sub relationship work (not an expert, but a fan); unrealistic military life (i don't know what i'm doing, but i'm doing it); bad jokes; yelling (again); leather collar (fastest apparition ever); unsubordination, but make it somehow tolerable; Soap and Gaz doing a great job being normal in this chaos; now you've got a roommate; Ghost tries to be nice (we've got you gorgeous, we know you're doing your best).

................................

Fifth part here:

................................

The morning after, Soap runs at you with breakfast already made (he learned how to make your chocolate oatmeal) and an official communication with your name on it.

«…what in the actual-?»

«No comment» the Sergeant swallows chocolate and coffee together, thrilled and suspicious at the same time while you're going to faint in front of what seems to be a threat of imminent death.

You turn and fold the communication letter in every angle, almost expecting to find a tiny "that was a joke, lol" written somewhere. But you don't.

«Waitwaitwait»

Gaz spawns behind you, sipping his morning tea; he looks at the sheet with a critical sight. «You must have fucked up so bad this time, little one»

«I've done nothing wrong!» you burst, watering the table with the hair you thought you would have time to dry.

«But here we are:» Soap points at the sheet as if he's Sherlock Holmes in front of evidence «You've been  officially included in the special operation team's selection…will take place under the supervision… blah blah blah… of Task Force 141 . It's written right here» he signs at the exact line. 

«No»

You waste no time denying the obviousness. The communication is sent away from you on the table.

«No» you repeat, convincing yourself. «I can't. I'm just…i can't»

«'S not a matter of will. Ye've been called, laddie» 

«Cooper and Allan will be there too…» Gaz reads on the list: five names are written, five promising soldiers who are gonna be tested on the field, and maybe will end up being a new special task force. Five reliable people.

You don't understand why the hell someone put you in there.

You fit a big spoonful of oatmeal in your mouth, chewing hopelessly. 

«Why? I don't want to, I'm good being a rookie, I'm too green for this…»

«Maybe» Soap gives you his most sarcastic smile «'S 'cause  someone threw herself in that risky mission in the middle of weapons traffic…if ye know what i mean»

You sigh. Your wet hair dances on the table as you almost slam your forehead next to the oatmeal mug, hoping to accidentally give your stupid brain some damage.

«Is like someone's trying badly to keep an eye on you»

Gaz's speech awakens you. 

«…whaddya mean?»

«Special training's normal shit that happens from time to time. But this wasn't expected, we'd been told 'bout it this morning, just like you. I bet he rushed up everything, and put your name on it»

« He who??» your hand grip the table. «Gaz don't be an ass, just spit the name out!»

«You know who I'm talking 'bout». And he smiles: he smiles like a dick since he knows well you're not gonna like the news, but he just enjoys your red face so much that he tastes every second before spelling with heart-shaped lips:

«Ghost»

You're screaming internally till the morning.

And he,  he , is standing there, in front of you,  he  who's just managed to turn your quiet soldier's life into a little training nightmare.

You want to slap your own face so badly for having thought about doing the heroine for one goddamn mission.  One . You didn't even think it was so hard as a mission, you've done it by guts, and now you're stuck in that training, and you know it's because of  him .

'Cause Gaz told you, after half an hour of interrogation, that  he  is, in fact, one of whom decides which recruit submits for the training.

You're dying, sitting next to a guy you've barely talked to since you're at the base, and who's looking at you…oddly.

Like he's studying you. Like he's waiting for you to…confess something.

With just a slap of his hands, Ghost manages to have everyone's full attention, and the meeting starts.

It goes on for a whole hour and a half: one hour and a half of specific technical terms, workout powerpoints, tactical expectations and probable missions to be done (if the recruit's team will show itself reliable). 

Your brain's 68% melted, 30% asleep and 2% trying to concentrate an hate-beam on the Lt. thick ass.

«Hey, uhm…»

You're about to run away from the meeting room as soon as possible when your brand new desk-mate approaches you with a grin you don't really appreciate. He seems almost amused for whatever reasons, but you don't have time to waste and just glare at him with the most annoyed: «Aha?» a human has ever said.

«He made you a big surprise, didn't he?»

You frown. 

«Who?»

«Lt. I heard a fight in his office recently…it was you, right? You two don't really get along well, are you?»

And that's the exact moment you become suspicious. Your eyes sharpen under the pressure of the distinct feeling he's going to get at a point you don't want to go with him to. 

«Eavesdrop is not polite» you mutter, containing your will to punch him in that stupid grin he's stretching his mouth with.

«I was passing by…ya know-»

«No. I don't»

You move beyond him, focusing on the door. It's already been a terrible day, and all you want is your bed. Not even the dinner, not even Bernadette's joke about her sister's future husband. A  bed .

And it leaves you quite nervous seeing your roommate standing in front of your door as you approach the way to your personal, hoped-for night heaven.

Bernie and her glorious gel-greased red ponytail are waiting for you, tapping her toes on the ground. Female's base section is tiny, and you're glad some God has found you a room with a normal human being with a goddamn deep sleep schedule.

«Oi» you wave at her. She doesn't seem amused. «Don't tell me there's something wrong with the bed sheets again, please»

«Bed sheets are good enough» she murmurs, patting you on the head (she's a tall girl). «Is something…different»

«Whaddya mean?»

She escorts you into the room, closing the door behind you as she's about to tell you some incredible secret about how the aliens are among us.

But she doesn't. She shows you something else.

And your blood freezes.

Next meeting is the morning after, just right before the first training session under Task Force 141 supervision.

There are twenty minutes left before the start, and you're already rushing through the base with your pocket stuffed with something metaphorically heavy. 

You slam the door open with enough force to dismantle the hinges, and your eyes search for one of the three men around the desk crowded with documents.

Johnny's about to wave at you, but his hands stop in the middle as he sees you walking like a rampage toward Ghost.

You aim at him with eyes so cold he could hibernate. 

«I want you to stop » you speak crystal clear under the rage and the exasperation « now, whatever game you're playin' with me»

Soap and Gaz are freezed at the other side of the table, considering themselves lucky to have a solid desk between them and your rusty, piercing voice. Ghost, though…

He falls of a tree.

He can't even manage to keep a stern voice as he says: «…what?» looking at you rummaging in your pocket just to throw something in his hands.

And he finds himself holding a goddamn leather collar, complete with metal chain.

In any other scenario of your life you'd rather jump from a window to check if it was possible to glide on the grass instead of putting together that show. But, oh well, you're neither a flying squirrel, nor a fortune-teller.

And there you are, stone solid against Ghost, who's lost the speaking skills and seems to be in the middle of a math problem resolution with his inner demon.

His eyelids glitch at you a couple of times, but you don't give him time to reply, not this time. 

«Do me a big favor -would ya?- and  go to hell . Thank you so much»

You don't even care if tomorrow someone will send you to fuck yourself away from the base, since you've yelled to a goddamn Lieutenant as if he is your cat-lady neighbor who complain about noises at four pm. 

This is the end of your patience, the end of you being nice, calm and collected; the end of you trying to not be so direct about what it's happening between the two of you.

'Cause it sounds so clear in your head that it was  him who left that stupid joke of a collar in front of your room, that you didn't even think about other possible suspects.

And so, the meeting starts with him being completely silent, sat and still as a statue, while Soap and Gaz don't even know what they're speaking about since they should have done just the training part of the day.

Ghost's looking at the recruits, so intensively, so vividly you can feel his eyes scanning all of you, and you don't give a damn about it.

He can just go where you've sent him, and rest in peace.

The walk toward your room is a forced march on disassembled legs. Task force did its best to organize a training to destroy every inch of flesh and bones, but it was so  good  to unload the stress with physical pain that you can't even complain.

You're about to go for the door knob, ready to disappear in bed, when a known voice reaches you with an embarrassed: 

«Hey»

You turn: and the goddamn eavesdropper from the training is behind you, and you're already preparing to yell the hell out of him but…he's evidently uncomfortable. He doesn't even look at you as he almost bows his head saying:

«…I-i came just to…apologize. I'm sorry for having bothered you. It was just a joke, i didn't mean…» He kinda starts to justify something, making a step forward that immediately dies. «Sorry, i…i-i just wanted to have some fun, it was a joke. Sorry» he ends up muttering, mumbling with eyes buried in the ground.

Your jaw drops. You're about to grab him by the neck and give his skim a peeling session on the wall, but you spit an hard and sharp:

«The collar. It was… you ?»

And he left you like this, with no more words, nearly running away from your sight, so embarrassed he could have dug by himself a hole to hide in the pavement.

Next day, he isn't even at the meeting with the Task force.

You can't deny you were about to skipp the daily training too. 

You feel slightly, almost imperceptibly, just a tiny bit  bad . But it's the "tiny bit" that makes you pretend to be part of the seat in the meeting room, just an innocent piece of plastic, so well hidden in the chair.

The specific, vivid memory of you rushing to your superior, slapping that damn collar in his hands as if the joke was his responsibility, is kinda cursing your mind in a black, noisy cloud of embarrassment. Oh, and that smart little brain of yours is also reminding you how proud you were to send him to hell.

You decide to become a turtle, digging the neck into the shirt collar.

FUCK , it's the only, big, huge sign you're throwing at yourself, so focused on melting on the chair that you don't even feel his presence next to you.

«'Ve told ya we've got a dignity in here»

You jump, raise your eyes and suddenly bury them again on the floor. Ghost is standing on your left, not even looking at you, and you silently thank him for his sensitivity (if that's even a matter of sensitivity). 

You're collecting some sensible excuses, trying to look like an adult, a responsible one, but he surprises you with a sudden:

«I'm sorry»

He's the second one in half a day who gives you an apology, but if the first one was unexpected, this is almost incomprehensible; and without getting aware, you're looking at him in surprise.

«Taking into consideration a shithead like that for a new task force project… I wasn't that forward-looking. Should have identified a scumbag from the start»   

He speaks so sternly but so…easily, as if he's telling you about how many peanuts he'd eaten at breakfast. Then he sighs, about to go away; and you don't know  how , but you find the boldness to shout out a rushed:

«I'm…I apologize. I  need to… I'm sorry» you murmur, feeling like a stupid child excusing a broken vase. 

«'S ok»

You can hear your heart skipping a couple beats. Your eyes widen as you sense the slightest amount of what you classify as  warmness in his words. 

It doesn't last that long, as he adds: «But we're not done with this»

«…no, I-I can understand sir-»

«We need to talk». The "need" part is silently underlined, but the "we" is just a replacement for a more impellent "I", since it is  him who's burning his neurons, crashing them together to let them cooperate like in the good old days, when he succeeded in avoiding unnecessary emotions from the sunrise to the dawn. And he really thought he would be able to spend his whole life with the "I care for you" part of his brain on strike, as he really used to.

You're ruining his plans. And he can't allow himself to grow softer.

That is what boils in his guts for the whole morning, making him so absent-minded he almost shot Gaz on the training field.

"War's not a place for sentimentalism. There's no place for enjoying love here, we can't get compromised"

He repeats it as a mantra, waiting for you in Price's spare office (since his has got the door to be repaired. It may be that he made a hole in it out of anger).

He doesn't even know  why they give him an office. He's not a bloody secretary.

«Sir?»

He jerks at the door, relaxing a bit when he sees it's just you: you, who're avoiding his direct sight; you who're still sweaty and panting from the training; you, with the t-shirt that exposes the bandage on your arm, reminding that stupid infiltration mission you shouldn't even get involved in the first place.

You, who call him  sir just when feeling uneasy. 

«Come in. Sit»

His voice does his best to modulate a softer tone, failing miserably, with the result of making him more nervous. He goes searching in a drawer, and when he hands you that damn collar, you sigh. 

«I-I don't think i want it back, sir»

«Cut out that "sir" thing. It doesn't suit you»

Your cheeks are on fire. You grab the leather things, holding it tight in your fists.

And you feel upset, really upset , as a crescendo of excitement grabs your nerves, making you feel oddly, suspiciously  good . 

He makes you come back to reality: «Seems like we have to speak more quietly»

You sigh. And he keeps on: «Eavesdropping's a dick move, especially if ya do it outside a superior's office. He's gonna clean the shit out of our toilets for the rest of his stay»

Said so, one topic of the day is considered closed. 

He takes a long breath before starting the more important matter:

«Are ya used to this?»

Apparently, half measures are for the weak. He points his sight at the collar you're holding with both hands, almost like you're waiting for someone to take it and put it on you. 

You can't help it: it's an old habit.

«I…was» you murmur. 

«What 'bout now?»

«Does it matter?»

«Yes»

«Why?»

«It matters to  me »

Fists clench around the leather.

«Is an old story, i've drop it»

«Doesn't seem so»

Then, silence. 

Dense silence, pudding-consistency silence, and if Ghost had got a spoon he could have eaten the room's atmosphere to get to you. He realizes his self-confidence has been thrown out of the window as he catches his fingers scratching the nose tip through the mask. Digits are immediately moved away and stuck in pockets. 

«'M not asking to make fun of you. Neither out of personal curiosity» and almost every synapsis screams " liar " at him. 

«You're a…reliable soldier, little one». It costs him a little bit of pride to say it. «We don't wanna waste good soldiers for stupid reasons. I don't want this» his sight spot the collar «to compromise you»

«You can stop worrying about it»

You're a knot curled on yourself on the chair, feeling as if there's a martial court in front of you who's laying you bare, exposing your guts, releasing the skeletons collection hidden in your closet.

That's when he takes the collar from your hand, so gently, pulling it away from you as if he's releasing you from a burning stone that was consuming your hands. 

You're impressed. And your sight rises again, and he's ready to catch it.

«Were you forced to do it?»

You're about to ask "what", but as always, you already know what he's referring to. You shake your head.

«No. I've…enjoyed it. I was lucky at first»

«Why?»

«I…» remembering it brings you a little smile «…I found someone I could trust with this…game»

«A friend?»

«No. No, he wasn't a friend. He…»

Voice remains hanging for a moment, as he makes a step back to give you space. He's waiting; he could wait the whole day if it's necessary, and you're so not used to him treating you softly.

Maybe it's just a trick to make you speak. 

And it works so perfectly.

«Sub-Dom relationships are not easy. Well, you could build one in no time if you force it, but a  real one is based on trust. And it is the most difficult thing to achieve. Is not just a matter of obedience and…and sex play» you blush at the statement. «I trusted my Dom with all my whole heart. That's why I enjoyed the experience»

He mutters a low monosyllabic sound, as a confirmation that he's following your speech. When you get silent again, he makes a step forward:

«Then why did that collar affect you so much?»

And he hits a spot. Of fucking course he does. 

«'Cause most of the time, someone who calls himself a "Dom" just wants a body to humiliate»

Your cheeks are burning again, your tongue is trapped between the hold of your teeth. You finish with a whispered: «That's why I went out of that business»

«But you react at the memory of it» 

Your head disappears into the collar shirt as you nod, almost imperceptibly.

«Do you feel the urge to be under someone's orders?»

A «No» is rushed out so quickly it surprises him. «I've told you: it's a matter of trust». 

And you suddenly fall from your tree, feeling like the "soft-spoken" part of the meeting is totally gone. You freeze on the chair, almost replying as sharply as you can: «I've not chosen to be a soldier 'cause I like being ordered, if that's what you're implying»

«I'm not implying anything.»

«Then why ask?»

«Just wanna make sure your not gonna fall for the first big man who waves a riding crop at you»    

He steps on horse shit, and he realizes as fast as the word "riding crop" slips through his own mouth. He can swear to god he was trying his best not to be rude, but somehow that part of him (that he was trying so desperately not to bury under a cozy warm blanket of emotions) had decided to show itself just at the wrong moment.

How lucky he is.

He suddenly jerks the sight at you with the haste of someone worried about having run over an innocent cat on the street, and he really hopes you've not heard his last sentence.

But you have. 

And your eyes are tilted toward him, cheeks are red and fists are clenched so hard that knuckles are going to come out. 

«Can I ask you» you rush out, in the most professional way, forgetting again you're speaking with a Lieutenant «Why do you always end up being a dick?»

................................

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update... Kinda.

Okay, so... funny story. Do any of you remember that merchandise update I made near the beginning of the year? The one where I said my aunt found some items of Marshall, so she bought them for me as a Christmas gift? One was a plush of Mighty (Movie) Marshall, which I said I already owned, and the other was that cube plush of Charger from Rubble & Crew (she thought it was Marshall because of the red hat). Well...

As it turns out, I was wrong about something!

It's not the same plush after all! I mean, it's basically the same style, yet one's slightly smaller and has a plastic nose. I didn't realize it at the time, but placing them side-by-side, it's quite obvious now. Huh... I'm pretty sure these were released around the same time, so I wonder why they made two different versions? The left's from Walmart, while I think the other's from Meijer. How interesting...

While I'm here, I might as well show off a brand new item I found.

This is... er... dang, why do I have such bad luck with cameras? I keep saying I'll break down and buy myself a better one someday, and... well, I probably could, if I stopped buying so much merchandise of Marshall. Hang on, maybe if I turn the flash off, that'll...

...oh my. Alright, back to my $40 TracFone cellphone camera.

Well, that's... better. Still not the results I was hoping for, but it'll have to do. In any case, this is a brand new item I found recently at a Meijer. I suppose this is what we'll get from now on, instead of those True Metal vehicles? Admittedly, I thought "Pup Squad" was something specifically for The Mighty Movie, but I see the merchandise is carrying on with that branding. I don't think they've actually said pup squad in the TV series, unless it was mentioned somewhere in the Mighty Movie (I still haven't seen it, so I've no idea).

One last item, which is...

...a common Marshall figurine and his firetruck? Wait, don't I own one already? Ah, I do... but I found a bunch of these at a flea market for $2.50, so I thought it'd be fun to have one in its original, undamaged, unopened packaging! Admittedly, I was hoping it was one of the first toys of him released back in 2013, but the copyright info instead says it's from 2019. Ah well, it still looks rather nice!

Of course... it'll look much better without that big sticker. Geez, did they have to make it so big? Stickers like that tend to be difficult to remove, since they come apart so easy and leave sticky residue.

Thankfully, I was able to get it off just fine, due to taking my time and whatnot. It pretty much looks good as new now! Of course, now I just need to find a spot for it...

...Someday.

...Eventually.

Oh, speaking of finding a spot for something...

My aunt recently gave me this small display case, and I thought about incorporating it somewhere in my collection. Perhaps I can use it to house some of my favorite and/or rare pieces of merchandise, like that hard-to-find Christmas ornament from 2016? It's kind of big, so I've no idea where I can put it yet, but I'll find a spot for it...

...Someday.

...Eventua- okay, I'll try to find a spot for it before the third movie releases in 2026, I swear! lol

[littlespacereader]

Hi, could you write a story about Han solo caring for little Luke or Leia? Thanks a lot!

My first ever Star Wars Age Regression Fic!! Caregiver Han Solo is not something I thought I needed in my life until this fic!! Ahhhhh!! I can just picture him being so cranky yet so caring! He’s roped into it but he absolutely loves it😂 Plus I decided why not both and made it Little Leia and Luke to add to the drama😂 Good luck to Han and Chewie in this fic! Enjoy!!!

Double Twin Trouble✨

Caregiver!Han Solo, Little!Leia Organa & Little!Luke Skywalker (SFW)

Tags- Han needs a break, cuddles, stuffies, pacifiers, missing little is found, comfort fic, hair braiding, forehead kisses

Nicknames - princess, kid, sweetheart, little Jedi, little troublemaker, Chewie for Chewbacca, ‘an for Han

With the rebellion on pause for a while, it’s given everyone a chance to take a breath and relax for a while.

That’s been especially needed for Han, Luke and Leia. The three have been running ragged with leading the rebellion and running from the Empire. But now they settled down on a peaceful planet without the Empire knowing and with the rebellion regrouping.

That left the three, plus Chewie, time to finally relax and take a much needed break. Though…the break isn’t really a break for Han Solo and Chewbacca.

Don’t get him wrong, when he heard Leia and Luke were regressors he was more than accepting. Little did he know he and Chewie would be roped into being their Caregivers.

Most of the time it was fine. Han would never admit it but he even liked being a Caregiver to the two twin troublemakers. He loved to cuddle them, chase them around, and all around have fun.

But it was days like today that tested his patience.

The house they got was just the perfect fit for their small family. They lived in a tall apartment style building but each floor was built as a one whole apartment. Han, Luke, Leia and Chewie lived in the 14th floor. The whole level belonged to them which was perfect for two rambunctious Littles who loved to run around.

But all around their house something was missing…or should we say someone was missing.

Luke was missing. Missing!! How horrible of a Caregiver does Han have to be to misplace a Little?!

He had his back turned for a second while he was making them a snack before the Little had disappeared somewhere in their new house.

Now he was turning the place upside down looking for him. What doesn’t help is that he has both Leia and Chewie arguing with him about it.

“Arrrrrhhhh.” Chewie roared as he walked back into the room.

“I told you I already checked there.”

“Arrrrrrrrrrh.”

“You don’t have to double check me! If I checked there I’m pretty sure I would know if Luke was there or not.”

“Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrhhhh.”

“Chewie your guess is as best as mine.” Han said with a sarcastic shrug. “Could you check the balcony outside my bedroom?”

Chewie nodded his head before leaving. “Thank you.” Han said more to himself.

Leia ran into the room and over to Han. “Han! Han! Notice anything different about me?” She smiled.

Han was in a bit of a frazzled state, so when he looked at Leia he really didn’t notice anything immediately. “I don’t know sweetheart. What is different about you?” He asked while still searching for Luke.

Leia followed him but she was not happy, “You don’t see it?” She crossed her arms.

“See what princess?” Han said before he stopped and looked at Leia. That’s when he noticed it, her hair was in a different style.

“Ohhhhh you redid your hair today. It looks beautiful.”

Leia stomped her foot, “You didn’t notice it right away! You didn’t! It’s a terrible style then! You never notice anything about me!”

Han sighed for about the 50th time that day, “Princess it’s not that I didn’t notice your hair style it’s just that I’m a little preoccupied trying to find your little brother. Have you seen him?”

She uncrossed her arms and looked down, “He told me not to tell you…” she trailed off saying.

Han walked over and took her hands in his, “Princess, I need to know where Luke is for his own safety. I know he’s a Jedi and is perfectly capable of taking anything on but he’s not feeling too big now is he?”

Leia shook her head no. Han continued, “I know he told you not to tell me but I’m worried about him, just like I would be worried about you if you were missing. So could you please help me find your little brother so I can make sure he’s okay?” Han asked in a soft tone.

He knew the way to Leia’s heart both as her partner and her Caregiver. She didn’t like to be challenged or yelled at. She responded well to patience and a soft spoken voice.

She looked at him with worried eyes, “Promise you won’t tell him I told you?”

Han smiled and held his pinky out, “I promise.”

With their pinky wrapped around each others Leia explained, “He went downstairs to the playground outside the building. He couldn’t find his Bantha stuffie and he thought he might’ve left it there.”

Suddenly it all clicked into Han’s mind. Earlier the four had gone down to the playground to burn off some of that morning energy the twins always had. The place ground is nice and convenient for Han and Chewie, just outside of their building.

Luke, being the younger twin, has the youngest headspace. He never goes anywhere without his Bantha stuffie. When he’s regressed he always has it close. It’s like a security blanket for him.

Their trip to the playground ended with Han carrying a sleepy Luke and Chewie holding Leia hand. Then it was a nice long nap for the two of them. Maybe Han and Chewie didn’t notice Luke was missing his stuffie when they got back.

Just as it clicked in Han’s brain Chewie entered the living room. “Chewie can you watch Leia for me? I think I know where Luke is.”Chewie roared in agreement.

Han kissed Leia forehead. “Thank you for helping me princess. I’ll be right back with your brother.” Han rushed to grab his keycard and left the house.

As Han exited, Leia walked over to Chewie. “Can you braid my hair?”

Chewie smiled and roared. He put his hand out to Leia to take. The two happily walked off to the couch.

~~~

Han took the elevator down to the ground level and immediately made his way to the outdoor playground. Sure enough there was the missing Little, sitting in the sandbox playing with his Bantha.

Han sighed, this time in relief. At least the kid was okay. But he was not happy about this disappearing act. He walked over to the sandbox and stood infront of Luke with his hands on his hips.

Luke looked up at Han and smiled, happy to see the Caregiver. “ ‘an! Look! Banthie! Found her!” He happily held up his stuffie for his Caregiver to see.

“I’m happy to see that Luke. But what’s one of our biggest rules?”

Luke hugged his Bantha and thought about it for a moment, “No lightsabers when I feels little.”

“Yes, but also…” Han led on.

“Not to go anywhere without you….or Chewie.” Luke added, this time a lot softer. His eyes casted down.

“That’s right. You know how worried I’ve been looking for you? I practically turned the house upside trying to find you. What if something happened? What if the Empire found you?”

Luke didn’t lift his eye back up to meet Han’s. Instead he kept them down as he started to cry. “I sworry ‘an!”

“Aw, kid. Listen, it’s alright now. I found you, you’re alright and now nothing is going to happen to you. I’m here, Han is here.” Han was just about to step into the sandbox to comfort Luke when…

Luke, who was too upset to really know his strength with the force, pulled Han down to sit in the sandbox with him. Han was caught off guard and fell backwards onto the sand.

The two just paused in shock. Luke looked worried that Han was going to be even more mad. But Han was just laughing as he pulled himself up from the sand.

“Kid if you had given me a second,” he laughed, “I was coming to give you a hug.” He sat back in the sandbox and opened his arms to which Luke immediately climbed into.

Han pulled the little Jedi into a tight hug. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he would been devastated if something ever happen to Luke, especially regressed.

“Don’t do that again to me okay kid? If you lost something or you need to go somewhere you come find me. Okay? I don’t know what I would do without you little troublemaker.”

Luke nodded, nuzzling his head against Han’s shoulder. “Sowry gain ‘an.” Luke mumbled.

Han rubbed his back, “It’s okay kid. All is forgiven.”

After a moment Han broke them apart, standing from the toy box to brush the sand off himself. “Come on little star, let’s go back home.” He said holding his hand out for Luke to take.

Luke smiled and stood up, taking Han’s hand in his own. As they started to walk towards the building Luke started to lean against Han’s arm, his thumb getting close to his mouth.

Han quickly stopped that, seeing that the Little was covered in sand. “No, no, no, kid that wouldn’t taste very good. We’ll get changed when we get back home and I’ll get you something better.”

Luke looked at his hand, as if he was seeing his sand covered hands for the first time. He whined but nodded.

Han chucked, “We haven’t been this covered in sand since Tatooine.”

Luke smiled and giggled, “Yeah!”

“I remember the last sand storm? Wasn’t that crazy? Chewie was getting sand out of his hair for weeks after it.“ Han over exaggerated. Luke was giggling like crazy.

~~~

Meanwhile Chewie and Leia were having a peaceful afternoon together without the other boys. Chewie happened to be a fantastic hair braider, making Leia a beautiful new hairstylist.

Then after she got a new hairstyle, she returned the favor and decorated Chewbacca’s hair with beautiful hair clips and ties.

When Luke and Han returned, they barley noticed through their fun hairstyle day.

“We’re back,” Han called out. “We’re going to get changed but then we’ll join you guys.”

Chewbacca roared in acknowledgment but basically said “take you time” in Wookiee.

Han helped Luke out of his sand covered clothes and into some softer comfy clothes for the rest of the evening in. Then he helped brush the sand from his and even his stuffie’s hair.

Then once the boy was sand free, he gave him his pacifier. “There we go. Much better than a sandy thumb.” Han winked with a smirk. Luke just nodded with tired eyes. Today had been a big day for the little Jedi.

Despite Han’s back protesting, he couldn’t help but pick up the tired Jedi and carry him out to the living room, cuddling him close.

“Princess! Wow! You look amazing!” Leia lit up seeing Han make a big deal out of her as he entered the room. He sat on the couch beside her, Luke in his lap.

“Thank you! Chewie did it for me! And I did his hair. See?” She pointed out.

Han turned and tried to hold back his laughter seeing Chewbacca all dazzled up. “Chewie…you’ve never looked better pal.” Han said, covering his laughter behind a cough.

Chewie shook his head and said something is Wookiee.

But Karma did come back for Han, because Luke crawled out of his arms and into Chewbacca’s. Chewie gave Han a look that he rolled his eyes back to.

“Han! I’ll do your hair next!” Leia grabbed her box of hair accessories.

“I don’t know if I can pull it off Leia.” Han said a bit unsure if he wanted the same hair treatment as Chewie.

But Leia knew the system and she knew it well. With her best puppy dog eyes, “Please!!!”

Han was a sucker for it every time. “Fine, one or two can’t hurt.”

Chewie started to laugh to himself.

“Laugh it up fuzz ball.” Han said as Leia put the pink sparkling heart clip in his hair. He wrapped his arm around her and she dug around her bay for the next clip.

[britswriting]

Fallen For You | H.S AU - One

Fallen For You Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Description/warnings

Rancher!HarryxPlus-sized!OC

~

🦋Delaney🦋

Finding out your crush for the past 5 years is finally working on your family Ranch almost sent me into cardiac arrest. 

The first time I met Harry, I knew he was attractive; but he was the new guy and I knew everyone would fawn over him. I mean, just look at him!

Dreamy hair, dreamy eyes, dreamy muscles.... but then I didn't see him again.

It wasn't until he moved to the Rickman's ranch that the feelings developed. I started seeing him anytime I had to deliver milk, or bread. 

Sure my feet might've dragged a little bit, or my gaze lingered just a second too long, but he never acknowledged it; having been too busy discussing things with Chase Rickman, and my dad.

For years my dad has been trying to get Harry to move ranches. Swindle Harry a good deal, tell him that he didn't have to be treated like meat and muscle for the strict Ranch owner or the Ranch owners daughters. The Rickman's were basically slave owners. The only difference is they paid well; something the rest of the town couldn't compete with.

Was a good paycheck worth being treated like shit? 

I sometimes questioned what Harry got out of it. Was being overworked and sexually harassed worth a warm bed and a good meal if you could get it from somewhere else? I question his integrity. His self worth and just how badly he needed a well paying paycheck. Especially in a town that ran off of getting ingredients from your neighbors.

The questions only rose when my dad burst through the kitchen door three weeks ago announcing he had finally gotten Harry Styles to agree to leave the Rickman's ranch with a few conditions.

1: He would have his own living quarters; meaning we had a lot of work to do.

2: He would have a warm meal each night

3: He would have one day off a week, preferably Sunday's which rose the question "Is he religious?"

"Mm! That's good, Laney." My twin sister Wrenlynn hummed, sneaking another swipe of my batter.

"Stop!" I whined, swiping the mixing bowl away from her, holding it protectively at my side. "It's not for you!" I scowled, turning to work at the other side of the counter.

"Yeah, yeah. It's for Mr. Cowboy." She teased, her smug grin painting a blush across my cheeks, my nose wrinkling as I shook my head. "Shut up! It is too!" She laughed, inching closer to me as I ignored her, "You know he doesn't mingle with his employers, right?"

"Good thing I'm not his employer then." I quipped back, "Dad and Grandma are."

"Be serious, Delaney! Don't embarrass yourself like the Rickman girls!" Wrenlynn warned as I spooned the brownie batter into an oblong cake pan. "Can I have the spoon at least?" She pleaded, sitting down on the backless black metal swivel barstool.

I passed her the spoon, shoving the pan into the oven as I set a timer, Wrenlynn speaking up again, "Come on Laney. Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad." I mumbled, taking a deep breath, turning to look over at her, my voice fell soft, "You compared me to the Rickman's."

Allison and Natalie Rickman were girls around our age who lived two ranches over from us. Their dad had coaxed Harry to work for them and word quickly traveled around town at the disgusting things the girls did to get his attention. Things like making off handed sexual comments, to walking by windows naked where he was working. How can Wrenlynn compare me making him brownies to practically shoving my tits in his face?

"Delaney, I didn't say you were the Rickman's. I said don't be the Rickman's."

"I'm not!" I frowned, "I just made brownies. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with making brownies, Delaney. It's just... you've done a lot." She noted, "You worked your ass off in that guest house with mom. I mean, Mimi said you were barely at the market lately! He's just another stupid boy, Delaney. Don't bust your ass for a guy who won't care."

"You don't know that he won't care." I argued back, shrinking a little when Wren tossed me a look. "Okay, okay! This is the last thing I'll make!" I swore, insecurity creeping up as I scanned the plethora of baked goods I made. "To be fair, some of these are for the market!"

"How many are for the market?"

"Uh.." I chewed on my lower lip, scanning the baked goods.

"Delaney! He's gonna be diabetic if you give him all that! We're out of flour and sugar ya know?! Pick one that you give to him, the rest needs to go to the market."

"How can I pick just one?! What if he doesn't like it?!" I worried, Wrenlynn groaning.

"Oh my god, it's not that serious!"

"It is too! First impressions mean everything, Wrenlynn!"

"Delaney! He isn't going to remember you at all!" She shouted, my eyes widening as my lips parted, Wrenlynn quickly matching my expression. "Delaney..." She said softly, tears welling up in my eyes and I nodded, trying to pull myself together.

"No. You're right. It can all go to the market." I mumbled, slipping past her and quickly pushing open the wooden storm door, hearing it slam behind me as I b-lined it down the path to the guest house only to abruptly stop, the sight of Harry and my dad conversing near the barn causing my breath to hitch.

I can't meet Harry like this!

I quickly spun around on my heel, coming to a halt again when my mom walked out the kitchen door, some sort of envelope in her hand.

"Delaney!" She grinned, "Come on, sweetheart! Let's go meet our new rancher." She urged, her hand grabbing my own as she pulled me with her.

"Mom! Please! I don't think that's a good idea!" I rushed, tripping over my own feet, struggling to keep up with her quick strides.

I could feel her eyes roll from a mile away, and before I knew it I was standing right in front of my crush, flushed cheeks and all as my father began to introduce us.

Oh god.

"Harry, this is my wife Theresa, and daughter Delaney." My dad pointed at us both as he said our name, Harry giving us a curt nod as my mom greeted him.

I stood there awkwardly until my moms big fat mouth opened again, "She's spent the past few days setting up the guest house, so if you have any questions about where things are, feel free to ask Delaney. I'm sure she'll be overjoyed to help you!"

Oh my god. Overjoyed? Really mom?! Can the ground just swallow me whole?

Might as well just tell the man I've been in love with him since I knew what a crush was!

Harry gave my mom another curt nod, focusing back on my dad.

Literally kill me.

"Feel free to get settled in tonight and we can start fresh tomorrow," Dad said. "Delaney will take you to your guest house." Why me? Dad turned to look at me, "Delaney, you have the key, correct?" Oh. That's why. I quickly nodded, swallowing the saliva that began to accumulate in the back of my throat as I looked away from the gorgeous man.

Harry was in some long — yet tight in all the right places — blue Jeans. They appeared worn at the knees, the material that covered his thighs had a tinge of brown brushed across them. Some slightly heeled ‐ what I can only assume to be cowboy boots, and an all white loose fitted shirt bunched up slightly at his belt buckle, raising an eyebrow from me. Why would you wear white? The fabric hugged his arms and pecks in a delicious way that caused my eyes to linger, before it became looser at his waist.

His dark brown hair in messy waves at the top of his head, appearing to be slightly damp. God imagine him showering... all wet with water dripping down his naked body; his hands running through his slick backed hair before grabbing his shampoo... When he turned to face my dad, I noticed his sides appeared to be recently shaven to give more of a faded look. My mouth watering all over again at the idea of running my hands through his curls, or leaving a lipstick mark against his fade—

Moms hand waving in front of my face cut my thoughts short as I heard, "Delaney? Earth to Lane!"

"Hm?" I hummed, feeling my face heat up as I felt his green eyes laser locked on me, a scowl etched into his godlike complexation.

God damnit Delaney.

"Please take Harry to his guest house," she said, and I swallowed yet again, nodding as I turned around to walk to what was now his residence on our ranch.

I peaked over my shoulder, seeing he was still standing with my parents; "Are you coming or not?" I yelled out, catching a quick glimpse of his eyebrows scrunching before I looked away, picking up my pace as my stomach began to whirl.

You did not just yell at him, Delaney! What are you thinking?

"First impressions mean everything" as you yell at him!

Stupid stupid stupid

"Already bustin' my balls huh?" His raspy voice made me jump.

God he walks fast.

"What?" I gasped, snapping my neck to look at him, the two of us walking in strides down the loose gravel path.

"You're bustin' my balls already" he repeated, his rich, buttery smooth drawl with the smallest undertone of rasp as he began talking, made my knees wobble.

"What do you mean?" I asked, worried I've already screwed the entire family over because I stupidly snapped at the devilishly handsome man.  

I so badly wanted to sit on a soft picnic blanket sprawled out in the luscious green grass field, his head in my lap as I played with his hair, feeding him strawberries and enjoying the beautiful sunshine and the sunkissed warmth that'd leave a beautiful golden tan imprinted on our skin. 

"First you daydream, and then yell at me as if we weren't all waiting on you." he snickered, my stomach clenching, a pit forming in my throat. 

Shit. Does he already think I'm annoying?

"Oh.. uh, sorry," I muttered. "I tend to um.. tune my dad out when he talks ranch stuff. You grow up around it, it's all you hear. Can get boring at times," I admitted. 

You did not just say that to a rancher, Delaney!

I couldn't help but mentally scold myself as I continued to fumble over everything I've told myself not to do. 

The silence began to get loud as my brain began to race.

Am I talking too much? Should I ask him about himself? Or is that a bad idea? and what does he mean by busting his balls? I wasn't giving him a hard time... right? Shit. was I? Delaney! You can't go bossing around the guy you've had a crush on since he moved into town! Dad will have my neck if I drive this boy away by my annoying habits after how much effort was put into getting this godsent rancher to occupy our now guest house.

"You're doing it again." he hummed, pulling me back into reality.

"Sorry um.. well.. this is uh, it." I stopped in front of a quite literal tiny house.

Silence was truly my worst enemy, and Harry Styles screamed it.

Was it too small? Did he want better? What were his previous ranchers' guest houses like?

Maybe he had those silk sheets royalty used, and those amazing thread count pajamas. Something so truly magical that this place looked like a pig's den to him. 

I eyed my crystal clear windows that I spent far too long washing, the fresh coat of white paint along the trim of the front door. Mimi and I even went out of our way to get a clean welcome mat outside the front door.

I thought it looked nice.

I mean, it looked better than it used to look. It was never really occupied, it was more so used as another storage shed all up until about two weeks ago when my dad dropped the news that Harry was officially and finally our new ranch hand, sending my family into full panic mode as we began to prepare for him.

The entire town knows how much of a pain in the ass he is. I mean, he's one of the best at what he does, which made up for how much manual labor we had to put into our ranch, making sure it was up to his standards by the time he got here. I've never seen my dad so stressed, or my grandma for that matter.

Finically, we couldn't risk it being anything but perfect. Harry leaving wasn't an option. 

"So is this just something you do? Space out so we can get nothing done? It's incredibly annoying," Harry stated. "Can I just have the key, and you can leave me alone and go daydream somewhere else?"

Oh.

It's incredibly annoying.

and you can leave me alone.

Go somewhere else.

Way to go Delaney. Took all of 10 minutes before you've gone and pissed him off. 

I wish I could say that was a new record.

"Sorry" I murmured, slipping the key out of my jean jacket, handing it to him. I watched him step up to the door, pushing the key in, "You have to shove it in and kinda push upwards. It uh, gets stuck sometimes. We'll fix it, promise." I instructed, my chest tightening when I heard him huff, attempting to follow instructions, a minute passed and he was still unable to open it. "Do you need help?" I offered.

I watched his shoulder blades tense under his shirt as his body stilled, an audible gulp being heard from me as my stomach fluttered, watching him struggle.

We're toast. This is it. This is his final straw with me—

"You fucking do it." He grumbled, leaving the key in the lock as he stepped away, standing behind me which his arms crossed over his chest.

I took the key out, pushing it back in, shoving it up and giving it a slight wiggle... oh, I guess I forgot that part, and twisting it to unlock it, the door opening.

"This shit is getting fixed tonight." Harry warned, shoving past me.

I apprehensively walked in with him, the floors practically glistening from their recent wash.

I placed the key on the white counter next to the door, Harry's muddy boots walking right across my freshly cleaned floors.

I cringed.

Hold your tongue, Delaney.

"This it?" He asked, turning to face me as he stood in the makeshift living room.

"Uh.. yeah. I uh, I know it isn't much–"

"You're fucking right it isn't." he scoffed, shaking his head. "Is there even a fucking bed in this dump?" He asked, or.. stated? I wasn't sure.

Dump?

I frowned, looking around our freshly cleaned, painted, and detailed guest house.

What was wrong with it?

Sure it was small, but I didn't think it was a dump.

I'd argue it was nicer, and much more up to date than our own farmhouse. 

At least this place had instant hot water unlike our farmhouse.

There's nothing quite like ending the day, covered in sweat, dirt, and god knows what else, having to wait 15 minutes on a good day for the hot water to MAYBE reach my shower. 

"The uh.. couch.. has a pull out bed." I started, watching his eyes quickly turn into a glare, "There are these uh.. stairs." I slipped off my shoes at the little mat in front of the door, careful not to slip on the clean floors in my socks as I walked to the door by the bathroom that was on the opposite side of the living room, a small set of low stairs leading from the bathroom door, "It's a loft like space? The ceiling is pretty low.. but I mean, you could put a mattress up there." I finished, my left hand resting on the rail as my right foot propped up on the step.

"So there's no actual bed." he stated, not bothering to even make it sound like a question.

This man was a ticking time bomb and I held my breath awaiting the explosion.

"There's a place to sleep." I shot back, getting frustrated by how much he was putting down all our effort to make this space nice for him.

Surely it was better than the horse barn we could've tossed him in. There was a loft up there that we stored extra hay bales in for winter. I'm sure he would've been a lot more comfortable in the hay than the suggested pull out couch at this rate.

Harry met me at the stairs, practically squishing me against the wall due to the lack of room as he began to climb the stairs, already crouching as he reached the third step.

"Jesus christ," he grumbled.

"Watch your head!" I called out right as there was a thud followed by a hissed out curse word. "You okay?" I called, climbing up the stairs only to have a full view of Harry's ass, my eyes landing on his back jeans pockets. "Going up?" I questioned, backing down a few stairs as Harry turned around, one stair away from being back where I started.

"I fucking can't. This place is so fucking small, I don't even fit!" He groused, my lips tugging up into a small smile when his forehead creased.

"You crawl," I snickered, Harry narrowing his eyes at me.

"I'm no bitch baby, I'm not fucking crawling."

"Fine. Then don't use it."

"It's not even fucking useable, Delaney!" He exclaimed, my eyes widening slightly at the sound of my name falling off his lips for the first time, a frown beginning to take over when I realized how much aggravation his tone had when he said it.

"It is usable. I used to play up there all the time as a kid," I argued back.

"Yeah, as a fucking kid. Try being a six foot man." He grumbled, climbing back down the stairs, once again pushing me against the wall on — what I'm hoping to be — accident, walking back to the front door. "This simply won't fucking do." he huffed, opening the door and walking out.

My feet quickly carried me after him, snatching the key and whipping the door open, awkwardly running after him, wincing every time a rock impaled my foot as he marched towards my father. 

"Harry! Please! Wait!" I yelled, beginning to pant due to how out of shape I was.

Running was not made for me.

"—It's too fucking small!" Harry told my dad, running over to him like a tattling toddler as I caught my breath, catching the tail end of whatever Harry was telling him.

"It is not!" I huffed, my dad eyeing the two of us like he used to eye my siblings and I when we'd argue over something stupid.

"Mr. Styles may I remind you you're a 28 year old man?" Dad said, Harry quickly jumped in, "That's right! A fucking 28 year old, six foot two, man who doesn't fucking fit in that rabbit shack!"

"You're being unreasonable!" I argued back, shocked where all this boldness came from.

One second it's beautiful brown curly hair I can't help but want to run my fingers through and next I'm ready to send his ungrateful ass packing back to the Rickman's.

Screw him! I worked hard on that place! 

"I HIT MY HEAD ON THE FUCKING CEILING!" He shouted, both my dad and I's eyes widening. My dad bringing his hand to Harry's shoulder, "Harry–"

"I warned you!" I defended, Harry's nostrils flaring, his lips parting as my dad quickly beat him to the next said word.

"Harry, we aren't made of money unlike the Rickman's. The girls worked hard to make that rabbit shack a home and meet as many of your demands as possible. We would've given you the guest room in the main house — I don't know if you recall but one of your demands was your own place. It was that or the barn, and if it isn't good enough then you need to get off your damn high horse and learn you're not worth emptying my pockets for like that. I'm already wearing myself thin with you; when I shouldn't have to. If it's that big of a problem, go back to the Rickman's where they sexually harass and overwork you — the whole town knows, Harry." My dad explained when Harry gave him a quick alarmed look, "If you as much disrespect my family or my animals, your ass will be strung on the damn hook in front of town. Do you understand me?" Dad warned, Harry's jaw tight as he nodded, turning around on his heel and quite literally stomping back to the rabbit shack.

Dad turned to me, asking, "Are you alright?" And when I nodded his eyes narrowed at me, "Now Delaney Nicole Fallen, you are 26 years old. You are old enough to know better than to start some bullshit with the rancher! He's here to help us. He has his problems, we knew that. I'm not saying be a pushover, but you also need to pull it together and figure out how we're going to fix it; rather than drive him away! I know I told Harry he needs to get off high horse but you know just as much as I do how much we need his help. Can you try and make this transfer easier, please? I've already paid him his first check. That's a lot of money to lose out on just for his ungrateful ass to go wandering back to those cock suckers—"

"Dad!" I shrieked, my cheeks flushing at his foul language. 

His eyes rolled, "You know what I'm saying." he said, myself nodding, "Wren will take your place at the market whilst you show Harry around on the farm, alright?"

"What? I thought you were doing that?" I questioned, completely blindsided by this new task I was given.

Surely he isn't just tossing me into the wolves with my crush, right?!

"I have to go to the Fosters and help with their hoof maintenance on their horses. I was supposed to be their yesterday, but you know Mimi and all her fucking shenanigans," He huffed, "Could barely find time in my day to eat let alone go a few ranches over and help out."

I nodded, my lips pursed, "So I have to do what?"

"Show Harry the reins. How we do things, how we use our animals. Has Louie already been a little shit?" He asked, myself chuckling as I shook my head.

Louie was my mothers' beloved long haired brown chihuahua. He was our only dog that didn't have a single job on the ranch but to be a pain in everyone's ass; and he did it well.

"Louie is with Grandma."

"Good, keep that ankle biter away from my rancher before he tries to run for the fucking hills again. I just need him to know where things are, and Morgan is busy at Gavin's family's for the weekend. I'm not asking for much–"

"He hated my house, dad," I reminded, offended that he thought this was a simple task.

Not only do I now have to be in close proximity with a guy who I've liked for far too long, but I've also gotten first hand experience with his notorious asshole attitude that hits just the right switch in me to make me forget all about his godlike appearance.

"Lane, if he truly hated it, he wouldn't have stomped back to it. He would've marched his overly expensive cowboy boots back to the Rickman's. Don't take his bullshit to heart, alright? Whatever he has going on isn't worth losing sleep over. Just make sure he's taking care of everything properly. You'll need to feed the dogs and cats. Harry said he won't do that," Dad informed me, my jaw dropping a little.

"What?! Why?"

"He said it wasn't a part of his job description." my dad's eyes rolled again, my brow furrowing.

"It is, though?"

"I don't fucking know, Delaney. I just know I love those rascals more than I should. Speaking of, their grooming appointment was made on Tuesday. You and Keegan need to help your mother wrangle them up. Also, tell Harry that means he'll have to take over the dogs jobs with the cattle and sheep whilst they're gone." he reminded me and I nodded, my hands stuffed in my jean pockets when I felt something metal.

Shit, his key

Before I could even process what I was holding, the sound of cowboy boots dragging against the gravel got louder.

"You locked me out of my own fucking house." he grumbled, glaring at me.

"No. I grabbed it so you didn't lock yourself out of your own house." I shot back, the key now in hand.

"Whatever. Let me in so I can get this shit over with." he huffed, not waiting for a response before turning around to walk away again.

I turned to my dad, my jaw tight, "I don't care how pretty his toned abs are, or how helpful he is on this ranch. I'm ready to murder him, I swear to god." I warned darkly, dad chuckling with a head shake.

"Breathe, Delaney. You'll make it out alive, promise. Now go let him in before he busts a window."

* * * *

Written on: July 18th, 26th, 28th, August 6th, 7th, September 8th, 2023, July 24th 2024

Published on: September 8th 2023 Republished: July 29th 2024

Word Count: 4.2k

Two

[quietwingsinthesky]

anyway. Waterloo ft. Even

The Master is singing. Even thinks they might kill him for that.

“Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war!”

He moves across their TARDIS, frenetic energy vibrating beneath his skin, and though Even steps back, he grabs their arm and pulls them into a dance. A stumble, on their part, dragged along into a spinning, bouncing rhythm that makes them dizzy.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore,” voice warbling low, simpering smile.

The Master leans too close. Even stomps on his foot. Without missing a beat, he shoves them away into the console hard enough to bruise their back.

——

The radio buzzes to life as Even messes with the dials. Out of the corner of their eye, the Master… She turns before a mirror, observing her new body.

She smells wrong. Even buries their nose in the crook of their elbow.

The first notes have barely played, upbeat my, my, before the Master scoffs.

“Find something more my style.”

“You like that song.”

“New ears,” she insists.

“It’s my radio,” Even argues back.

“Our TARDIS, our radio. Play me something sweet, dear.”

Frustrated, Even fiddles away.

-you’re so pretty, can’t you understand-

“That’s more like it!” Even sighs loudly.

——

“Doctor?” Bill calls into the TARDIS.

“Not here,” Even answers from the floor. They look very comfortable there. The TARDIS is playing music. Bill didn’t know it could do that. “He’s bad with time.”

“Never late to lectures, though,” Bill says.

“Good at talking at people,” Even concedes. “You can wait here.”

Bill isn’t going to lay on the ground when there’s chairs.

-I feel like I win when I lose.

“Is that ABBA?” she laughs.

Even nods.

“Sorry, guess I didn’t think that was your style.”

“It’s familiar,” Even sighs. “Should be trying new music.”

“You’re looking for recs?”

——

“I tried to hold you back,” Noble hums beneath their breath, “but you were stronger.”

Something clicks in Bill’s brain, recognition sharp enough to hurt, something she should know, something obvious.

“Is that ABBA?” she demands.

Noble looks at her, frowning. “I don’t know. I just heard it somewhere.”

It’s there on the tip of her tongue. Bill knows. She knows. Noble is staring at her, head tilted. They aren’t right. In their voice, in the song- Bill should be able to connect it.

Why can’t she. Why can’t she.

Razor coughs to get her attention. Bill’s distracted. Bill forgets.

——

“Waterloo,” Even’s lips are cracked, dry, and bleeding, their voice is a thready whisper, and still, they stumble along, “wouldn’t escape if you wanted to.” The clank of metal punctures through their singing. They’re exhausted, their head feels like it’s boiling, and they’re starving.

They’ve learned that Cybermen, when made out of living men and not dead ones, keep the flesh inside alive. Fresh.

“Waterloo, knowing I’m late to see it through.” They drag the Cyberman’s limp form along. One more. So many to go.

They wonder if they’ll die first.

They inhale, start coughing.

No. That’d be too easy.

[sweetiebean00]

Of Curses and Stone

The Sixth Installment to Of Nifflers and Magic, I might be needing to make a list or something for easy access... Oh! Please feel free to ask questions if anything is confusing! @helendeath

Celia didn't know how long she was out, her eyes stinging as she squeezed them shut. Whispers from the past fluttered about her skull like flies, she couldn't move. Her entire body felt wrong, felt too heavy as if weights were chained around her limbs. This isn't London, she reminded herself, trying to think through the fog invading her mind and clouding her senses. She's at Hogwarts, somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. She's safe, she's with her friends. At least... she hoped they were friends, and that she wasn't just overlooking their kindness to the awkward new student.

Taking a deep breath, the smell of mint and lemon danced about her nose with something spicy. The fire that had been burning since she got out of bed that morning was spreading, the flames so hot it left trails of ice stretching like the roots of a tree through her chest. Clearing her throat made regret twist in her stomach at the pain that ghosted right back down, down deep into her lungs as she fought to keep the ball of magic inside in place. She didn't have the time for coughing, for her body to keep fighting against her everytime she lifted a fucking wand.

She needed to get up. To open her fucking eyes and get her brain working so she could focus on the situation at hand until she could crawl to the Room of Requirments, or even the Undercroft if it was empty, and hack up her lungs in peace. Something squeezed her hand, pulling her from the haze of her thoughts as something cold and clammy pressed against her knuckles and air tickled her fingers. Celia frowned, trying to make her hand flex, to squeeze back whatever was squeezing her. Yet her body still wouldn't obey, not when all she can hear is the dull roar of blood rushing through her ears and the memories that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. 

Warmth surrounded her on all sides, and she had to fight to keep awake. The blanket of sleep attempting to pull her back under, but Celia had enough of reliving her once muggle life. She needed to be awake. There's something she’s doing, was doing? Is? She had been up to something, something important maybe? She couldn't remember, the sludge of her mind far too thick for her to even try and think through. With a deep breath, she forced her eyes to open. Squinting against the light of torches that made spots line her vision, but she refused to close her eyes.

The first thing she saw was pale skin bared from a white shirt, a green and silver tie hanging loosely and fisted in her grip. The black fabric of a cloak lined with emerald green was next, and when she managed to get the strength to crane her neck. She found her eyes traveling up, up, up. Watched the adam's apple bob as sweat slowly trickled a path along flawless skin that looked to be cut from stone, until she found a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. A narrowed nose, and pale eyes staring at nothing as blonde locks fell messily across his forehead, fallen from the slicked back style Ominis usually wore. She swallowed, heat dancing along her cheeks as she realized just who was holding her all this time.

Celia mildly thought it was Sebastian, the warmth of a furnace ever burning had made her think of him. Also given he had been closer when she had more than likely fainted, it had just made sense. She hadn't thought Ominis would be this warm, this firm mass that surrounded her that brought to mind a snake coiling around something precious. Her lips twitched, and she vowed to never share that thought with anyone. Not even if Adelaide offers her the best bottle of firewhiskey and the finest cup of coffee her uncle had ever thought to send her. 

Tilting her head turned more into a dropping and she gritted her teeth at the weightless feeling that tingled in her own bones. Hopefully, this was just a side effect of being cursed by an unforgivable, and not something else. She needed time, time to hide and lose the battle alone where she didn't need to pretend everything was fine and dandy. With a measured breath, she forced herself to focus once more. The first thing she saw was thick, dark brown curls. Sebastian. His head lifted, her heart wrenching in her chest painfully at the tears trailing down rosy cheeks from his red, puffy eyes. He was mouthing words she couldn't hear, it was his breath on her fingers mingled with teardrops and she wished to squeeze it. To tell him everything was okay, that she's fine.

"-orry, never casting that ever again."

She struggled, don't say never. Why she can understand not casting crucio again, but some of them could be useful. Magic was magic, all that mattered was the one that wields it. Professor Fig had taught as much, and she's learned from his lessons. All of them, she's absorbed them like a sponge during the summer. Like hell would she let the most important lesson of all be tossed out a window.

"Celia?"

A hand gently caressed her cheek, tilting her head back so she was staring back at Ominis again. She hummed, her heart skipping a beat at the smile that stretched his lips. Relief colored his features, his forehead pressing into hers as he held her face tenderly. As if she would break if he held too tight, or would slip away if he let go. Heat blossomed under his touch, her eyes widening at the contact before he was pulling back. A proper grin stretching across his face.

"Thank Merlin you're awake." He breathed, shoulders losing the tension that had clung to them moments ago as she squeaked being nestled further into his embrace at the motion. "Sebastian and I were quite worried about you."

"I'm fine?" She cleared her throat, turning her head to Sebastian's own wide and relieved gaze, the guilt like a knife that pierced her heart with every flutter of tear lined lashes. She squeezed his hand, cursing herself for how much energy and strength it took. "Sebastian - it's okay, I'm okay."

"You weren't-" He sniffled, holding her hand tight to his chest. "I'm sorry- so sorry Celia, I-I didn't want to hurt you, bu-but you said to do it and for-for Anne; and-and I'd do anything for-for my sister, and you're my sis-sister too, and I-I hurt you-"

Her heart warmed, threatening to burst as her eyes stung at his words. She tried to throw herself at the other Slytherin, tried to lunge and tackle him in a hug like one she's seen Poppy do to Adelaide that knocked the taller puff flat on her back. Except her body wasn't quite cooperating and she frowned at the fabric that locked her wrist to Ominis' forearm, the emerald and silver tie that matched the one hanging loosely around the blonde's neck now circled his arm and knotted around her other hand clutched tightly in Sebastian's grip. She shook her head, questions later. She needed to hug her brand new brother right now!

"Sebastian-!" Celia cut off his cries, squeezing his hand and wiggling enough to get Ominis to loosen his hold. "Group hug me, please!"

He hadn't needed to be told twice, against Ominis' words of protest Sebastian too crawled into his lap. Hugging her close and sandwiching Celia in between them with a loud oomph! Celia didn't care, doing her best to try and hug him back as brown curls tickled her cheeks and she let Sebastian cry into her shoulder, and Ominis' chest. At least they were in this together.

"I'm okay, Sebastian, we are all okay. You did nothing wrong, magic is magic, what matters is the one who wields it." She soothed, bonking his head with her own with a hiss of pain. She had been attempting to hug him with her chin, apparently that translated into a headbutt instead. "That- sorry, I'm not quite sure why my arms are restrained, and I can't quite hug you when my arms are tied with... wait a minute, is that your tie?!"

Sebastian laughed, pulling away to settle back on his haunches. He wiped his face, his bashful smile making her raise a brow as she waited for an answer. Ominis sighed heavily, his hands moving to undo the knots that bound her to him. Muttering under his breath something about another delinquent. Celia made a mental note to correct him later, she wasn't a delinquent, she's a deviant. There's a complete difference! The moment Ominis had freed her wrists, Celia went to jump Sebastian. Only to be stopped by his arm tightening around her waist, his voice low in her ears.

"Easy now Celia." She gulps, heat rushing to her cheeks as fingers trail featherlight up the inside of her arm bared by her rolled up sleeves. "'Less you want me to tie you up and hold you down, again."

Immediately, her arm falls back to her side. The fire blazed over her face dripping down her throat to her chest as she realized that she had been tied up in two ways. Once with Sebastian's tie around Ominis' arm, and again by his own tie around her hand holding it to his chest. Why they felt the need to restrain her she didn't know, couldn't bring herself to try and dwell on it as she nearly launched herself at Sebastian. A living, breathing furnace with arms curling around her that apologized into her shoulder as she rubbed his back. Humming a soft tune as she listened, as she assured him he hadn’t hurt her. She is fine, he isn’t a monster and he didn’t do anything that she hadn’t asked him to do. That wasn't necessary. That she forgave him even if there's nothing to forgive.

It took a moment for Sebastian to stop shaking. To stop the tears in his eyes from falling, for his sniffles to ease. Pulling away, she ruffled his curls. Ignoring his half-hearted protests as she beamed with the force of the warmth filling her heart, she felt like she was going to burst from how light she felt. How free and unchained from the shackles of life. 

It took a moment for Sebastian to stop shaking. To stop the tears in his eyes from falling, for his sniffles to ease. Pulling away, she ruffled his curls. Ignoring his half-hearted protests as she beamed with the force of the warmth filling her heart, she felt like she was going to burst from how light she felt. How free and unchained from the shackles of life. 

"For Anne." Celia reminded, ignoring Ominis as he shifted behind her to get off the floor, muttering under his breath: "Anne would not want this."

If Sebastian heard his comment, he didn't respond. Merely getting off the floor and offering her a hand and tugging her to her feet the moment she grabbed it. Celia breathed a sigh of relief, letting her weight settle as pins and needles tingled up from her toes up to her hips. She didn't have the time to curse, her arms stretching out to find something for purchase. Sebastian lunged forward, a grunt escaping his lips as her face slammed into Sebastian's chest. Fuck.

"Oh, you're completely fine." Ominis said in a mockingly high voice.

Celia rolled her eyes. A squeak yanking from her throat as her legs were swiped out from under her. Instead of careening to the ground, she was lifted. Higher and higher until she was burning red, as strong arms locked under her knees and around her back. Ominis' features were unamused, a slight pink tinting his cheeks as he huffed. Shifting her up and earning another squeak as he adjusted his grip. His lips lifted in the corner, she scowled at the smirk curled on his dastardly soft looking mouth. 

Dangerous, she decided. That's another word to describe the tall, blonde Slytherin. Dangerous, with his stupid kissable lips that she really wanted to bite. She needed to stop thinking about his lips, about how they'd look swollen and red from kissing. If he'd kiss her soft, and tender, as if she'd break, or if he'd kiss her like he was dying of thirst and her lips were the first drink of water. All teeth, and tongue that he would drag- STOP THINKING ABOUT HIS LIPS!

"-thinking you can walk off an Unforgivable." 

She blinked, the sound of his voice crashing into her ears and she felt the fire of her blush spread to the back of her neck at the timbre of his voice, low and smooth like the finest butterbeer sliding down her throat. At the vibrations of the deep notes coming from his chest beneath her ears. He needed to stop talking. He shook his head, following Sebastian into Salazar's Scriptorium.

"Foolish."

"Hey, I didn't know."

"Because you didn't listen!" Ominis hissed through his teeth, slowing his pace until he came to a stop. The sound of Sebastian's footsteps growing faint as he continued to pursue the study. "If either of you had stopped to think, to listen to what I have been saying from the beginning - you'd know it wasn't just the pain that was excruciating. It was that it lingers… Lingers in every breath you take, in your bones, your muscles. It stays until your senses are so muddled you can't remember a time without the pain, and when it's gone you would do anything to go back and never feel it because..."

Ominis took a deep breath, his brows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. Her eyes fell to his throat, watching as it bobbed when he swallowed. A shudder dancing down her spine that she did her best to resist, but when his grip tightened she knew she had failed before she had a chance to begin. She sucked her bottom lip in-between her teeth, feeling his chest raise and fall with the force of his breath.

"Because?"

"Because there will be days you will feel the effects of the cruciatus curse as if it's being casted on you again."

Her heart twinged, her head gently resting against his chest as she nuzzled into him. His breath hitched, and she hummed as her hands curled into his shirt. She watched his jaw clenched, his lips pursing and the frown formed between his brows slowly smoothed out with the rest of his features. Back into the calm, cool, collected mask that is Ominis Gaunt. "I... I'm sorry, Ominis." She cleared her throat, the beat of his heart a soothing lullaby beneath her ear. "I'm sorry your family has boners for snakes and dark magic, and can't see your brilliance."

He snorted, his response lost as her breathing evened out. Her eyelids were growing heavier and heavier by the second, the firm warmth of Ominis surrounded her. Wrapping and curling around her like a blanket of safety, a wall against the harshness of reality. She hoped one day she'd be able to be selfish and give him that sort of warmth and peace in her embrace. She wished to be allowed one day, because the heavens know she doesn't deserve more even if she wanted to gift him that for all of eternity.