#I’ve been meaning to make this for ages and have now finally got round to it

[papaya-twinks]

italian blood - l.n

Warnings: Age Gap!

Pairing: Lando Norris x antonelli!fem!reader

Summary: Lando falls for Kimi’s twin sister

Kimi’s 20 in this, in order for his twin, y/n, to be 20 too. I also made 2025 into 2024 because idk what’s going on and it makes sense to me

part 2

You and Kimi were some of the closest siblings ever - going through each and every formula together, almost like a duo act. And now, with rumours circling of your brother joining F1, you couldn’t not be happy, but you also couldn’t not be hit with a tinge of jealousy. You’d been just as good, if not better, than Kimi, winning an extra F2 title than him. 

“Ciao, Kimi, Y/N,” Charles said, seeing the two of you walk down the pit lane, suits hanging low in your waist, having just finished your final practice. “Hey Charles,” you said, waving at him, “a word?”. The Monegasque nodded shortly as you waved off your brother, following the older driver into his garage. “How’s it going?” he asked, watching as you slumped against one of the tables. “Merda (shit),” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, sounding reassuring, “it will simply take time. I’ve put in my word to Fred and Carlos can vouch. Simply putting an Italian in an Italian, well, eh?” he nudged you as you shrugged. “Surely that’s what you want, no?” you asked, eyebrow raised. “Mon dieu (my god), Y/N, the meeting is it a few minutes,” Charles sighed, “let us wait til then,”. And you did so, a few bits of small talk with some engineers before moving to talk to Carlos. And then, you were called in. 

“Y/N, Y/N,” Fred ushered you and his drivers into his office as you sat down. “I’m sure you see the position I am in, yes?” he confirmed as you nodded warily. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at, but nodded anyways, in order to speed up the situation. “We have a variety of options for Carlos’ replacement,” he continued, “Hamilton, perhaps,”. 

Wow, he was really pushing you to the edge. “And?” you said, expecting for him to tell you the outcome. “We’ve decided,” he spoke slowly, “to sign you one year,” your eyes widened, “to see how you are,”. Scrambling out your chair, you nodded before rushing out the office, finding Charles. “You got it?” the Monegasque asked, eyes wide at your reaction. “You bet!” you shrieked, throwing your arms round your friend. 

And shortly after that, a week or so later, Carlos’ departure was announced, but not your arrival. There was no doubt going to be a lot of controversy over a female racer, there already was in F2, let alone F1. The hate you already got for racing in F2 was hard enough to deal with. Of course, Charles knew, and you were allowed to tell a few people you trusted, such as your best friend, Oscar. 

“Wait wait,” he shushed you after you explained, “you’re meaning to tell me…MY best friend is gonna get beaten on track by me?”. You snorted at his words. “I believe the words you were looking for were, ‘beating YOU’,”. Oscar raised an eyebrow, following you down the pit lane. “Well, before you join the dark side…or the red side,” the Aussie said, “stay here for a bit,”. 

You scrunched your nose at his comment but followed him to his garage anyways, into the motor home behind. “Right, right,” he said, “you’re gonna need to come to this little dinner with a few drivers,”. You raised an eyebrow, “who’s coming?”. Oscar hummed, before counting on his fingers, “Charles, Max, Carlos, me and Lando,”. You knew Max and Charles, jabbing kitted a few times with Max, and you knew Carlos by extension of Charles.

However, Lando was not someone you knew. Besides, you’d never say no to food, who would? So it was arranged, you were going to meet Charles at the elevator before you left together for the fancy ass restaurant. Choosing an outfit that wasn’t too posh but wasn’t too laid back was probably going to be the main challenge. In the end, you settled on a pretty black dress and some platforms, and a bag to finish off the look.

“Hey Leclerc,” you saw your teammate waiting for you. He was wearing a simple shirt and dress trousers, so you were appropriately dressed. “Looking good, Antonelli,” he raised an eyebrow as he went into the elevator with you. You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before everyone else, see if Carlos and Max in conversation as you sat down, smiling to them.

“Oscar’s on his way, and not sure about Lando,” Max said, handing you a menu. Your conversation was relatively easy and laid back, a few comments about the race before going onto random topics amongst yourselves. Oscar arrived and joined in with you and Charles. The only person left to arrive was Lando. “Finally, mate,” Charles looked up, seeing the young British driver behind me, wearing a white button up shirt, open at the top with a few necklaces, and black dress pants.

“Hey mate,” he leaned over you, before shaking Charles’ hand. You watched as his necklace fell in front of your eyes before he raised an eyebrow at Carlos, gesturing subtly to you. “Ah, Lando,” Charles sai,d realising Lando didn’t know of your job. “This is Y/N,” he introduced you to him, “she’s going to be the new Ferrari driver in ‘24,”. Lando raised an eyebrow, taking in your body and figure, before turning to Carlos.

“She’s your replacement?” he asked the Spaniard, as he nodded. “Right…” he turned back to you, “you have some big shoes to fill,”. You nodded, already aware. “Try to compete with you lot, then,” you shrugged. “Oh Y/N,” Max said with a small smirk, “you can try to compete with us, we’ll be lapping you,” Charles scoffed. “Yeah yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself, this is Ferrari territory,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes at the boys arguing already before turning to Oscar who was on Lando’s other side. “Help me,” you mouthed, watching Charles on your right as Lando laughed. “You’ll get used to them,” he said sympathetically as the menu was handed to him. The dinner ended up going well, you exchanged number’s with Lando and got on his number. There was no doubt he treated you differently, but it was expected. He almost acted with caution.

“Add her to the group, mate,” Oscar said to Lando as you turned to them. “Well, it comes with a warning label,” he added your contact to it, smiling, “these guys are kinda loony,”. You laughed at his comment, you expected nothing less of the guys around you. “I’m sure you’ll fit in just great,” he nodded to you with a smile. “I hope so,”. The rest of the dinner was finished and Charles drove you home, dropping you to your apartment.

Lando was very nice, he spoke to you a lot, and made sure you felt comfortable, but you had to say, it was a pleasant surprise seeing a text from him already, as soon as you walked into your room.

You grinned at the texts, he was certainly very open to being friends, but the only way to put that to the test would be through racing. You were well aware, throughout other formulas, what competing against your friends could do to your bond with them, and testing the waters now with Lando would be too early. Your train of thoughts was broken by the sound of your phone dinging, a message coming in from your brother.

This was going to be interesting.

Shortly, the 2023 season rolled by, Max winning yet another championship and the seats were announced. Your brother, Kimi, was the new Mercedes driver, and you were the Ferrari driver. Of course, the hate was definite but you only used it to fuel you on and prove them wrong. And finally, you arrived in Bahrain with Charles and testing was to begin.

“The car’s good,” you said, not that you really had much to say, as this was your first F1 car. You were on your 15th lap so far, other drivers behind and in front of you, testing their own cars. “This is good, this is good,” your engineer said over the radio, “we need to box you for new tyres in the next lap, avoid Lando, please,” he said, making you look to your mirror, seeing the orange McLaren behind you.

You turned your head to your right, seeing Lando on your side, a small wave to you as he drove round, going into the next corner. You followed him, you knew it was testing, but a bit of racing wouldn’t hurt, right? “Y/N, what are you doing?” the engineer asked as you sped up, going round Lando on the next corner. You couldn’t see his face or anything, but you could almost sense he understood what you were doing and following you, behind you as he went down the inside on the first corner.

“Y/N, you missed the pit,” your engineer said, “we are not racing Norris,”. You huffed, it was just a bit of fun. “Sorry,” you slowed down, Lando’s car doing the same as he drove alongside you down the back straight. He held his hand up as if to say, ‘what are you doing?’ You shook your head, as if to say, ‘we can’t’. He threw his hand up, exasperated and drove off. You wanted to race him too, but maybe in the next races.

“Y/N Antonelli,” the interviewer smiled to you as you walked into the media pen. You smiled at the full name as he spoke more, “you were rapid on track, setting the fourth fastest time, just behind George, Charles and Lando,”. You grinned again, “Fourth is good an all, but we know a few of the better teams could be sandbagging,” you referred to Max without directly saying it, “and the car’s doing amazing, honestly,”.

The interviewer chuckled before he continued. “On the subject of Lando,” he said, “we saw a bit of wheel to wheel action between you two. This is testing, right?” he joked. You laughed again. “Yeah, well, he went down the inside and I was like ‘why not have some fun’?” you explained, “and he was alright with it, it was just joking around a bit,”. The interviewer hummed, “Is joking around really what should be happening?” he asked, making you raise an eyebrow, “did Lando even do it as a joke, or because you annoyed him?”.

That was the media for you. Creating unnecessary drama, as always. You didn’t say anything, your expression stoic and somewhat pissed. “Good racing, Antonelli,” a voice said behind you, making your cold expression break as you saw Lando. “Have some more of that in the race, yeah?” he shook your hand as you nodded. “Preferably when I’m in front,” you smiled as he clutched his chest. “I’m wounded,” he said dramatically. You shook your head at him.

“To answer your question, I think we both knew it was a joke,” you said triumphantly to the interviewer. This was going to be a very interesting season.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items. 

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email tmill@aol.com with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you. 

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns. 

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme. 

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him. 

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink. 

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!” 

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?” 

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher. 

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core. 

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door. 

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body. 

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch. 

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him. 

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there. 

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure. 

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck. 

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from and it was because a new manager came in and cleaned house. Because my state requires a reason to be fired he said I used too much pepperoni. So now on job applications I get to write that I was fired for “excessive use of pepperoni.” Never fails to get a laugh.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, and as I’ve never been religious at all I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

[ksnfangz]

EPISODE ONE — FATE | PROLOGUE

New year, Same Crush, Same friends, Same Grades, and what’s this? A new handsome face!

Y/n L/n was well known for her bright and bubbly personality, the cheerful girl always smiling and jumping around throughout the school day despite her low scores, and the mean comments made by her classmates about her loudness or existence within their school.

She is also known for her very obvious crush on the school's golden boy Yang Jungwon. The girl does little to nothing to hide the fact that she likes said boy. Even mustering up the courage to confess during their freshman year.

" Jungwonie ~ I like you." you smiled voice pitched a bit higher than usual, eyes shimmering under the bright sunlight. A simple " I am not interested." is all you received in response as the boy walked away leaving you to sweep by yourself.

However, the rejection didn't at all phase Y/n. You were a determined woman and you wouldn't let Jungwon's rejection stop you from crushing– it had become a part of your daily life at this point.

So here you are a year later and still as in love as you were a year prior. Only now you and Jungwon were part of the same friend group. Thanks to your best friend Sunghoon who had become good friends with Jungwon over the Summer. And the final cherry on top was that Jungwon sat at the desk to your right so you could stare at him freely without being called out by their teacher or straining your neck... again.

" Y/nnie~ Guess what! your best friend is going to be one of the top idols in Korea soon." Sunghoon brags sitting himself in the seat to your left. The male had been your best friend since kindergarten so now you were stuck dealing with his randomness forever.

" Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it." you reply eyes never leaving the boy sitting to your right. Smiling as you watch him write down notes from his textbook. No wonder he's at the top of the class, he never stops studying.

" Hey you may doubt me now but I know about 10 companies that would beg to have a face like mine under their label." Sunghoon is about to continue his rant when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

Kim Sunoo.

Kim Sunoo was pretty cute for a guy, very smart, sometimes mean and a bit scary but that just made Sunghoon even more interested. How could someone with the face of a baby be so tough and outspoken?

" Sunghoon hyung you're in my seat!" the boy claims foxlike eyes staring into Sunghoon's widening round ones.

" Oh yes! sorry." The park boy apologizes before moving to the desk behind Sunoo. " Thank you!" the boy said sending Sunghoon one of his usual bright smiles as he sat down in his newly acquired seat. There were no assigned seats but Sunoo knew he wanted to sit beside you this year to make sure he could help you if necessary and because you were a pleasure to be around.

" Yah Kim Sunoo your hair! it looks great, I am jealous." Y/n whines playful pout resting upon her lips as she admires the boy's dark red hair. " Wonyoung dyed hers blonde! I’ve heard that's Jungwon a type." Sunoo whispers. Y/n sighed she had been wanting to dye her hair for ages but her mother would kill her if she ever put color anywhere near her hair. People like Sunoo and Wonyoung were very lucky. Y/n watches as said girl talks to Jungwon with her doll-like smile and flowing blonde locks.

" Do you think I would look good blonde?" The girl asks looking back at Sunghoon. "Of course not!" earning an eye roll from y/n and a smack on the arm from Sunoo that leaves him softly rubbing at the area. “ow.”

" You'd look beautiful with any hair color y/n don't let this fool give you any advice. He once got bleach and dye mixed up and almost went bald!" Sunoo laughs.

" I'm starting to think all the bleach went to his brain." Sunoo adds grabbing his notebook from his book bag.

" Hey! My scores are pretty good in my opinion." Sunghoon argues. " Doing good on the exam is one thing but remembering the information is another Hoon." Sunoo replies.

“ yeah well, I don’t see you offering tutoring sunshine.”

“ as if I’d waste my time tutoring you.”

" Will you two quit flirting in front of me please it's disgusting." Y/n sighs turning her attention back to the cat-eyed boy in front of her. Completely missing the way both of her friend's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

" Yeah well, why don't you wipe the drool off of your lip and pay attention for once?"

" Yang Jungwon is far more entertaining than whatever Mr.Lee is teaching." Y/n responds her smile growing as she rests her chin in her hands. Of course, you should be paying attention to the lesson since your English grade was a bit low for your parents liking but you’d rather spend your time studying jungwons face than studying the English language.

" Y/n L/n."

The girl snaps out of her trance eyes widening. All eyes shifted towards her. "Please come write the sentence that Wonyoung Just read!" Mr.Les says gesturing towards the freshly wiped chalkboard. Slowly standing from her seat y/n timidly makes her way to the board.

I lost everything, I became a monster that can't die, but now I know what I have to do, Follow the blood token...

The girl freezes what was the last word again she thinks to herself trying to recite the poem in her head again,

how do you even spell that word is it an F or Ph....

English is stupid.

"Fate," says an unfamiliar voice. The chalk is removed from her hands as the unfamiliar male finishes the sentence. Y/n looks up at the boy silently thanking him with her eyes. The boy smiles before turning to face the class.

" he's handsome" "Is he the new transfer from Japan?" " how's he so tall?" I heard he's good at basketball... even better than Lee Heeseung " "No one is better than Lee Heeseung"

" Everyone let's quiet down and give our new student a chance to introduce himself. Y/n you may return to your seat." Mr.Lee says. the girl quickly made her way back to her desk dusting the chalk off of her hands.

" Hello everyone my name is Nishimura Riki, you can all call me Ni-ki, I'm from Japan, and I like sports." The male— Ni-ki informs, the class once again breaking out into small conversations as the male walks to the only empty seat which happens to be right behind y/n.

The boy softly tapping the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "Fate," the boy says once again, showing the word engraved cover of his journal. " Guess I got lucky." he smiles earning a small chuckle from the girl. Completely unaware of the pair of eyes that were lingering on the two.

A/N ; short first chapter i’ll try to make the next ones longer! I just wanted to get the introduction out of the way. Please let me know if you see and spelling errors, or the name soojin anywhere this was originally an x OC! || next update may take a while i just go a surgery done and the medicine makes me very sleepy

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©KSNFANGZ. please do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works without permission!

[disaster-writer]

Poison (Part 1/4)

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Koutarou x Beta!Reader

Summary: You loved love, but it wasn’t made for you… but maybe a certain Alpha could change your mind

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: MSBY Black Jackals time period

AU: Omegaverse

“I don’t care about your presentation. It shouldn’t matter whether or not you’re a Beta and I’m an Alpha— I love you for you and not because of my biology—“

”Fucking liar,” you grumbled glaring holes into your tv, “You only love her cause it’s in the fucking script,” you grumbled once more, shoving the Valentine’s chocolate you had bought for yourself into your mouth.

”Hmmm… and you say this is your favorite movie because….?”

Your eyes snapped to your laptop, wide open and displaying your younger sister.

Truthfully you were sure every single person in the world would find you to be quite the pathetic display right now. In the midst of February, crying about fake love stories while stuffing your face with heart shaped chocolates, and talking to your sister that had to make time out of her busy school schedule just to hang out with you over FaceTime. Not to mention your hair was a wreck and you looked like you had been awake for days.

But at the age of 24 you stopped caring about the optics long ago… plus no one was ever here to pity you anyway.

”Because it’s a beautiful fucking love story about a Beta finding true love,” another chocolate down the hatch.

”Isn’t the actress an Omega in real life?” She snorted.

”Yeah and you can tell no Betas worked on this film cause they got so much shit wrong. Like how would she be able to tell he was pissed off in that one scene by his scent? We can’t smell that shit,” you ranted, throwing a piece of chocolate at the tv. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your cat walking up and sniffing the chocolate before batting it away. “They also make her too submissive.”

She hummed absentmindedly, filling in one of the answers in her homework, ”Well what do you expect? You guys only make up like, what— 2 percent of the population?”

”Maybe if you Omegas and Alphas didn’t fuck like bunnies, we wouldn’t be dying out.”

”Hey!” Your sister yelped, looking up from her homework, “Mom told you not to say stuff like that anymore!”

You grumbled something to yourself, sinking further down against the foot of your bed and into the carpet, “Sorry.”

“God I can’t wait for February to be over,” she muttered going back to her homework.

”At least I don’t bother you with this year round now. If I’m destined to die alone I can take one month out of the year to be insufferable.”

”Oh sis, you need some serious help.”

”That’s what the chocolates are for,” you say through a mouthful, “Ah! Don’t eat that Mochi!”

From your sister’s perspective she sees you suddenly leap out of frame giving her a view of the dance pole you had installed in your room— a secret you made sure both your sisters would take to the grave just so your parents wouldn’t find out. And just behind that she could faintly make out the shelves upon shelves of anime figurines you collected in the dim light of your room that was only illuminated by the TV and your laptop. You returned seconds later with a cat in your arms.

She sweat dropped. She loves you with her entire heart but holy shit, you were becoming the stereotypical sad cat lady day by day.

”Tell me again why you can’t just go out with one of the million volleyball players you manage? Or what about the other guys on the other teams? I thought you said most of them don’t have mates?” She asked, putting her pencil down and finally giving you her undivided attention. “I’ve seen some of the pictures of the guys on your team too, they’re all hot.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the foot of your bed, ”There’s so much wrong with that question I don’t even know where to start.”

”Enlighten me then,” she deadpanned.

”Okay, one, they’re like the most stereotypical Alphas you’ll ever meet— like the Alphas of Alphas, which means a Beta is probably the last person they’d ever date. Two, most of them are unmated for good reason, they’re professional athletes, they don’t have time for that. And three, they’re my co-workers, it’s not professional!” You exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air and causing Mochi to meow and squirm out of your hold.

She narrowed her eyes at your dramatics. “Is that all?” She asked sarcastically.

”There’s probably more— ah shit the movie’s over,” you said, noticing the credits beginning to roll.

”Thank God,” your little omega sister muttered, “It’s time for you to go to bed anyway.”

”Sleep is for the weak,” you grumbled, a pocky stick hanging out the corner of your mouth while searching for a new movie.

”Huh-uh sure it is. It’s 2am and don’t you have to get up at 6?”

”5. I’m going on a run to burn off all the chocolate.”

”You could just not eat it.”

”Funny.”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Ne-Chan is going to your place tomorrow right?”

”Oh yeah, that’s right,” you muttered, forgetting about your older sister’s stay.

”Thank God, she can help you through tomorrows episode instead of me.”

”Bitch.”

She started closing her textbook, ”Ok I’m gonna—“

”Y’know tomorrow will be the first time I’m seeing any of you in like a year.”

”That’s cause you never visit.”

”Well you guys could come visit me too y’know?” You scoffed, picking at your cuticle.

”Nuh uh don’t pull that, we’re all here and you’re the one that wanted to run off and isolate herself after you started making bank as a manager.”

”Yeah whatever,” you grumbled.

”I’m gonna go to bed now,” she hummed, “And you should too.”

You only grunted in response.

”Love ya, talk to you later,” she waved.

”Love you—“ she hung up, “…too,” you ended with a sigh.

You took a second, staring at the blank screen and remembering just how lonely you felt now that you were by yourself before going back to scrolling through the movies once again.

* * * *

You jolted awake to the sound of your alarm that following morning.

You turned over, registered that it was 5am, turned off the alarm, and turned back around.

What were you thinking? A 5am run? The sun wasn’t even up yet. You weren’t like the weirdos you managed on the team. You’d much rather stick to your usual workout routine.

You fell back asleep.

You would actually wake up two hours later at 7am to go to work. The guys had a 8 am practice but you couldn’t spend the practice time with them anyway as you’d be locked away in your office all day. After their last tournament they had an influx of sponsors come in and now you had your hands absolutely full with that.

However, now with the sunlight filtering in through your curtains, you forced yourself awake and to get ready for the day.

You sat up, your bed head looking worse than it did when you fell asleep. Quickly glancing around the room with bleary eyes you saw the mess you had made. Wrappers, boxes, used tissues scattered everywhere, with your tv still on.

You sighed before forcing yourself to your feet, stirring your sleeping cat on your bed. You quickly gathered the garbage together and threw it out followed by turning off the tv. 

You passed by your calendar, February 8th, only six more days until Valentine’s Day.

Your shoulders slumped as you dragged your feet over to your closet.

Truly you weren’t this desperate and pathetic all the time, it’s just this month that always seemed to get to you. 

Old habits die hard, you supposed.

Ever since you were a child you dreamed about growing up and getting married, you dreamed about falling in love and experiencing the type of love that completely electrified you and made your head dizzy, you dreamt about being held by a man that was completely crazy about you.

Maybe it was a bit naïve, but it’s what you always wanted.

But then you had to go and present as a Beta. 

You were the only Beta born to a completely traditional family. Your father was an alpha, your mother an omega, your two older brothers were both alphas, your older sister was an omega, and your younger sister was also an omega.

Turns out your great grandmother was a fucking Beta and that’s where the gene came from.

You also had no issue with being a Beta, the problem lied with the fact that Betas were so rare nowadays they were impossible to find, and other Betas would have been your dating pool. But now you were stuck feeling undesirable by both Alphas and Omegas who only wanted to mate with each other.

You slammed your closet open, a bit rougher than you intended and pulled out a pair of black slacks, a white button up, and your blazer. 

It wasn’t your typical dress attire everyday but your schedule was full of zoom meetings today with both sponsors and magazines. Any other day you would have been assisting the team during practice and dressed in one of your track suits.

You quickly stripped and dressed yourself for the day.

Now it also wasn’t as if you didn’t try within the field of love. You fought tooth and nail to experience any kind of romantic relationship but a girl could only take her confessions being rejected by Alpha after Omega after Alpha so many times. Not to mention being ditched on blind dates. For you the cumulative number that was your breaking point was thirty times. 

You loved love.

But it wasn’t made for you. 

After dressing, using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and putting on your makeup and putting your hair in a tight bun, you headed to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee in a to go cup before heading out the door to start your day.

The game plan for the day was to greet the team before hiding away in your office for the rest of the day. You’d meet with the CEO of Bouncing Ball on zoom followed by another sponsor you couldn’t remember but you were pretty sure it was some energy drink company. Then you’d start getting the schedule in order for the match against the Adler’s later this week. Following that you’d meet with two Sports magazines back to back to set up some interviews— speaking of interviews you also—

“Fuck,” you hissed on the train ride softly, immediately going through your bag for your agenda. The passenger next to you threw you an annoyed glance but you paid them no mind. “The press conference.”

You quickly wrote down in your agenda, that contained both your work and personal life schedules on one calendar, a reminder about that press conference that’s coming up. Then you quickly put it in your phone calendar as well.

Interviews and press conferences were a nightmare for you, between Hinata, Atsumu, and Bokuto you had your hands completely full with making sure they were in the right place at the right time because somehow they never were unless you had them all on tight leashes. 

Yeah maybe you didn’t have someone to love or love you back the way you wanted but you did have your career. And as much as they liked to drive you up a wall you did enjoy your job and your coworkers. On top of that you were still able to make a pretty decent life for yourself as you were completely independent and self sufficient, in fact you were able to send checks to help support your family now. Your apartment was basically an expensive suite that always looked immaculate due to the fact you were even able to afford a maid.

The train stopped and you got off. Now with some caffeine in your system there was more of a pep in your step. You knew that once you stepped a foot into the building you’d momentarily forget all your woes and instead act like the professional that you were as you threw yourself into your work. Your sister would be coming over later in the day and you had your Pilates class that night so you certainly had a full day ahead.

You headed straight for the gymnasium, stalking past your own office as you put a smile on your face.

Pushing the door open you headed straight towards the bench where Coach Samson and Meian were currently talking. You waved to Atsumu, Hinata, and Sakusa who were currently starting their warm ups, you assumed the rest to still be in the locker room.

You could immediately hear the squeaking of their sneakers on the flooring, the smell of salon-pas invading your nose. The ceiling was so much higher than the one of your old high school and the lights much brighter as well. 

”Good morning Samson-san, Meian-san,” you nodded towards them with a smile.

Samson returned your warm smile with one of his own, “Good morning (Y/N), you seem cheerful as always,”

”What’s not to be cheerful about?” You shrugged, “Anyways I went over your schedule yesterday, looks like you’ve got a full day of practice huh?”

”Yeah,” Meian answered, “It’s the Adlers, some of the guys are getting worked up about the upcoming match so we figured more practice wouldn’t hurt. God knows they’re gonna over practice anyway.”

”That is true,” you snorted.

”And you?” Samson asked, “You’re all dressed up again, stuck in more meetings?”

”That I am. Got some meetings with one of our sponsors and some new ones. Then I need to set up interviews with VolleyballWorld Mag and Sports Monthly— oh and we have that press conference on the 25th coming up but I’ll give you more details when that gets closer.”

Meian whistled lowly, “I’m glad I only have to do the playing, I’d lose my mind if I had your job.”

”Oh it’s not that difficult—“

”I thought we talked about not selling yourself short (Y/N),” Samson interrupted, “You’re the only manager I’ve dealt with that hasn’t lost a single sponsorship for this team. Not only that but you handle these knuckle headed Alphas so well I think they’d fall apart without you.”

You laughed at his comment and grinned, “I do appreciate the sentiment so thank you,” you nodded, “Now I only wanted to stop by and say hello, I have to prepare for the meetings now so I’ll head out. I’ll be in my office all day if you need anything.” You began turning around, waving at the two, “Good luck with practice today—“

”(Y/N)-CHAAAAAN!!”

Your shoulders immediately tensed, your eyes widening, “Oh fuck—“

Suddenly you had the air knocked out of you as you were quite literally swept off your feet by a much larger force, now being rocked side to side in the Alphas embrace as he squeezed you against his chest.

”Bokuto-san,” you managed to wheeze out, “I thought we discussed this?”

You could instantly feel him deflate, “We did…”

”And what did we say?”

”No hugging Miss Manager.”

”And why?”

”Because it’s unprofessional.”

You waited a beat for him to react but he didn’t, “That means put me down Bokuto-san.”

A second later you were back on your feet.

You huffed, straightening out your blazer and ignoring the dejected look on Bokuto’s face. After working with him for so long it was quite easy at this point. You patted his arm.

”Thank you. Always a pleasure Bokuto-san, good luck with practice—“

”You’re not staying!?” He suddenly exclaimed.

“You do realize her job isn’t just handing out towels and water bottles right?” Meian asked.

”Yeah but… Beta-chan hasn’t been to practice in ages!”

”That’s because you guys keep doing so well. The more sponsors you get the busier I become. Now you really should get to practice, it’s almost 9 now.” You said, checking your watch, “And don’t worry, I’ll be attending practice again before you know it.”

You were just about to turn and leave before Bokuto stopped you again.

“Wait! I have something for you!”

You watched in slight annoyance as Bokuto ran off to his bag and shuffled through it. Seconds later he was pulling out a black fabric and a Tupperware and then running back to you.

At this point the entirety of the team was watching whatever shit Bokuto was onto now.

”I found your jacket!” He pushed the fabric towards you.

”Oh?” You accepted it, quite surprised, “I dunno how you found one of my things again but thank you… actually I dunno how I keep losing it,” you muttered under your breath.

”And this is for you!” He exclaimed once again, handing you the container in his hand.

”Huh… Another bento?” You asked peculiarly as you looked through the container before you sighed, “I thought we talked about this as well Bokuto-san? You can’t be giving me gifts all the time it’s not—”

”Professional! I know! But I didn’t make them for you this time! I made it for me and these are left overs!”

You sweat dropped at his explanation, “Bokuto-san that’s the same thing. I can’t accept this.” Suddenly Bokuto deflated, like he always did when you declined his gifts.

You then glanced behind him at Meian who just nodded his head towards Bokuto.

You sighed.

”Alright fine,” instantly he perked up, as you took the container, “But I’m telling you you can’t keep doing this. Now go practice, I’ll try to stop by later if I can.”

With that you were spinning around on your heel, heading out of the gymnasium with your sweater and the Tupperware in hand.

Behind you Bokuto stood proudly with his hands on his hips as if he accomplished something just now.

The rest of the team stared at the scene with quite exhausted faces. This kind of show was so typical now, it came as no surprise.

“How many days does that make now?” Atsumu scoffed, leaning back into his stretch once again.

“Fuck if I know anymore,” Sakusa grumbled back.

”HEY HEY HEYYY!” 

“At least he’s in a good mood!” Hinata chirped as Bokuto ran at full speed towards them.

”Did’ya see that!? She accepted my gift!—“

”Bokuto!” Samson suddenly snapped, “Stop talking and start stretching!”

”Right!” He held a thumbs up at his coach, causing the older man to roll his eyes, before joining his teammates on the ground to stretch as well.

”She also hesitated before accepting it and told ya to stop again,” Atsumu said.

”Yeah but I think I’m making progress,” Bokuto grinned happily, “She’ll be my mate in no time!”

”It’s been nearly a year Bokuto,” Sakusa muttered.

”And how was that any different from what usually happens anyway?” Inunaki called out to them after overhearing the conversation.

”Because! That makes the 52nd time she’s accepted one of my gifts and only the 49th time she’s rejected it! And she didn’t give me penalties for hugging her this time.”

”Only?” Sakusa sweat dropped, honestly he envied how blissfully stupid Bokuto could be at times.

”If she hasn’t done anythin’ about ya courtin’ her then she doesn’t know yer courtin’ her!” Atsumu snapped in frustration, “Ignore yer stupid instincts for once and ask her out already!” Clearly he was the most annoyed with watching this show drag on for this long already. Yeah, maybe it was funny in the beginning but now Bokuto’s stupid Alpha behavior and your own obliviousness as a Beta was becoming painful to watch.

”Maybe Bokuto’s right!” Hinata butted in, “She seems to be a lot more accepting of his hugs now!”

”That’s cause she’s used to it,” Inunaki snickered. “Also whatever happened to the idea that Bokuto is also probably not her type?”

”Whaddya mean not her type? I’m everyone’s type!”

”Yeah I’m sure she likes you for your modesty,” Sakusa muttered sarcastically under his breath.

”Why wouldn’t I be her type?” Bokuto asked, seriously looking like he was trying to rack his brain for the answer.

”Well because, she’s so…” Inunaki trailed off, “Professional. And you’re…”

”You don’t think I’m professional enough for (Y/N)-chan?”

As if on cue, everyone snorted as if he just told a joke.

”You too Hinata?”

”I mean… (Y/N)-chan she’s… very…”

”Any day now,” Sakusa grumbled.

”Serious! That’s the word! She’s very serious about her job while you’re a lot more fun!”

Bokuto frowned as if he was offended, “You don’t think (Y/N)-chan is fun?”

”And you do?” Inunaki asked surprised. “None of us know anything about her. She doesn’t even go to the celebratory dinners or team bondings— we’ve never even seen her in her casual clothes.”

“That’s a good point,” Atsumu agreed, “She’s not on any social media either and she only ever talks to any of us when it has to do with volleyball— she’s like a fuckin’ NPC. Ya know nothin’ about the Beta, how’d she even manage to get ya wrapped around her finger like this?”

Bokuto stared at the gym floor and had that look in his eyes that his teammates knew too well at this point, “You’re wrong about her—“ he looked up at his teammates, “There’s more than that to Miss Manager! I know it— it’s like in her scent! And when I find out you’ll all see you were wrong!”

”So dramatic,” Sakusa said, “You keep saying this shit but she still doesn’t even know you’re interested in her.”

”Yeah, cause he won’t just fuckin’ ask her out!” Atsumu exclaimed.

”You say that now but just wait until she realizes what I did with her jacket!”

Atsumu looked at Bokuto in horror, “The fuck did ya do with her jacket?”

“I washed it with my laundry, scented it, and slept with it in my bed for a week!” He exclaimed proudly, Atsumu’s innuendo completely going over his head, “Now she’s bound to know I’ve been scenting her!”

The others, even Hinata, stared at Bokuto dumbfounded as they watched him close his eyes with a stupid grin on his face, clearly visualizing what he thought would be the moment you realized he scented you.

”I don’t know how many more times we have to say this to you,” Sakusa said, “But Beta noses don’t work that way. If anything she’s just gonna think her jacket smells like a man, I doubt she’s familiar with your specific scent at all considering she’s always around us when she does see you.”

Bokuto deflated.

”Ya know what will get her to finally notice ya?” Atsumu asked.

Bokuto perked up again.

”If ya just asked her out already!”

* * * *

You stalked into your office, the door slamming shut behind you.

You dropped the container Bokuto gave you onto your desk, placed the coffee cup down, draped your jacket behind your chair, dropped your bag onto the ground, and finally you sank into your seat with a sigh.

A smell wafted around your nose and you immediately knew it was your jacket as you sunk deeper into your seat.

It smelled like a fucking man.

”Seriously? Was it rolling around in the locker room or something?” You grumbled to yourself.

You still had an hour before your meeting with the CEO for Bouncing Ball. 

Now you could go over some notes and brush up on anything you’ve might’ve forgotten but Kenma Kozume was probably the most laid back sponsor you’ve ever dealt with and you knew your extensive knowledge about his company and all your business dealings wasn’t as impressive as it was to most other CEO’s.

And also, you didn’t want to study anyway.

You glared daggers at the container which held the lunch Bokuto made. You already made your own lunch for the day so maybe you’d give to your sister when you got home.

You glared harder at the container. “Left overs my ass,” you grumbled. There looked to be three servings of food in there.

You didn’t know why Bokuto was so persistent when it came to giving you food but if he was this generous with you then you knew he was going to make some lucky Omega out there very happy. 

“Lucky bitch,” you muttered just thinking about this metaphorical Omega. “… I wonder what Mochi is doing now?”

Before you knew it ten o’clock had rolled around and you found yourself entering the waiting room for your meeting with Kenma.

And just as you had expected, you weren’t accepted until a half hour later.

”Sorry I’m late,” Kenma muttered, clearly looking at whatever was on his computer screen than the zoom meeting. “I lost track of my stream.”

”No worries,” you hummed, “I was able to get some other work done in the meantime.”

”I’m gonna keep this brief,” more words that didn’t surprise you, “I wanted to talk to you about giving MSBY more money.”

You blinked in shock, back straightening up as you processed his words, “You want to give more, but you already give—“

”I know how much,” he hummed, “But I want to give more.”

”Oh well— thank you. Let me just grab my books and I’ll adjust a few things,” you said, immediately reaching for one of your binders that was placed neatly in your bottom drawer. “How much do you—“

”Double.”

Your jaw fell open briefly, but you quickly regained your composure, “Alright well— that’s- that’s great news. Amazing even. That’ll help pay for the repairs in the gym and then some. Thank you Kenma.”

”You’re welcome,” he hummed absentmindedly, “Tell Shouyou I said ‘Hi,’”

”Of course, as always,” you nodded, “Should I tell Bokuto you said hi as well?”

You could see a slight smirk on Kenma’s lips, “No.”

“Very well,” you snickered. Kenma didn’t seem like the type but you had come to realize he liked fucking with people sometimes.

”Feel free to tell Samson you negotiated for this deal.”

”I would if I could but everyone knows you don’t give anything to anyone unless you want to.”

He shrugged, “I suppose.”

”So was that the only matter you wanted to discuss for today?”

”Yeah. You have that meeting down with my advertisement team for the fifteenth right?”

You glanced down at your large desk calendar which as opposed to your agenda in your bag and your phone calendar only had your work schedule. 

“Yup, right here. Will you be in attendance?”

”No, I trust you when it comes to dealing with them.”

You snickered once more, “Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?”

Kenma glared sourly at his screen, “You would think but some of those guys are becoming more and more incompetent with each day.”

”Well then I’ll be looking forward to that meeting,” you joked, “But if that’s all, I’ll leave you be. And good luck with tonight’s stream.”

”Thanks. Don’t lead Bokuto on too much today—“

”Huh?—“

”Goodbye.”

He hung up.

”Fucking CEO’s,” you muttered under your breath.

* * * *

The day had progressed quite smoothly. You had managed to get everything with the sponsors clarified and confirmed. You scheduled all the interviews that needed scheduling and on top of that you were even able to smooth over some of the details concerning the press conference at the end of the month.

Practice had ended hours ago now, you knew because Bokuto tried sticking his nose in your business as usual before Meian forced him to go home so you could work.

But now you were finally finished and packing up for the day. You shoved everything you needed into your bag, even your blazer since you’d much rather wear your jacket in this weather. You inspected it further and it had looked clean, it just very obviously smelled like the volleyball players. You’d just throw it in the wash when you did laundry later that week. 

You then shoved the bento in your bag as well before taking off for the night.

Your sister was already at your place. She had texted you around noon and had let herself in with the key you hid outside for her.

So really, you should have expected the impact when you were suddenly pinned to the ground the moment you stepped into your apartment.

”(Y/N)!!!” Your older sister had screeched above your face as your bag and its contents went flying across the room. The door was still wide open, letting the sunlight and cold air filter in over the two of you.

”You bitch!” You yelped back, before quickly flipping the two of you over so you had her pinned instead. She struggled under you but you had always been stronger than her. “You’re too old to still be greeting me like this!”

”I’m 26! Stop acting like I’m on my death bed!” She yelped, still struggling.

“Why haven’t you visited sooner! It’s been a year you whore!”

”Why haven’t you visited us back home! Sending checks every month to mom and dad doesn’t count as visiting!”

You glared at her. 

Her hair was longer now and she of course still looked as beautiful as ever.

You loved her dearly but growing up in her shadow, the most popular and beautiful Omega girl in your high school with a scent that had literally pushed multiple Alphas into ruts and even made one pass out once… well it was difficult.

You remember a cruel joke about you back in high school about how your sister was the one that got confessed to by all the Alphas and how you were always the one that had to do the confessing.

But you haven’t internalized this at all.

Of course not.

Her hair fanned out behind her, her skin was bright and glowy, her canines which were sharper than most (and also made her look like a cute little kitten according to most Alphas) poked out from behind her giant smile.

But her face suddenly screwed up in surprise as all the joy disappeared from her features which were now overshadowed by a seriousness you weren’t used to seeing her wear.

”You smell like Alpha.”

You blinked at her owlishly. “Yeah I was at work all day dummy.”

”No, no.” She suddenly sat up, pushing you back to sit up as well. She leaned in and took a deep whiff of your jacket, “You like, reek of Alpha.”

”I kinda lost this jacket a week ago and I’m convinced it was rolling around in the gym,” you offered as some explanation to the smell.

”No you idiot,” she flicked your forehead, making you wince, “You smell like one singular Alpha— are you hiding something from me?” She suddenly accused.

You scoffed, a sudden heat crawling up your neck and face as you stood up abruptly, shut the door, and kicked your heels off.

”I have no idea what the hell you’re insinuating,” you grumbled, walking over to your bag and shoving everything back in, besides the bento which you left out to put in the kitchen.

Throwing your bag on your couch, you stalked into the kitchen with your sister hot on your heels causing her skirt to sway behind her.

”Are you seeing someone?”

You stopped short, and abruptly spun on your heel to face her to which she almost crashed into you. “That’s— that’s a completely r-ridiculous question!” You spluttered, face now on fire. “And if I was, you know I’d never keep it to myself!”

Your sister tapped her chin and looked up in thought, contemplating your statement, “Hmmm… that is true…. But I’m telling you little sis, you seriously stink of Alpha right now. Like so much it’s kind of ridiculous.”

”And I’m telling you it’s just cause it got lost in the gym—“

”Oh please, I’m not buying that. You know my sense of smell is much sharper than yours so you should just listen to me.”

You clenched your jaw and ignored your thundering heartbeat resonating in your ears, “Like… so… what exactly does it smell like then?” You tried to question nonchalantly, crossing your arms and busying your fingers with a strand of hair. The thought that some Alpha scented you, that someone was interested in you was flustering you in a way no romance movie ever could.

She grinned knowingly, “Well whoever it is, they’re strong as hell— I must say that that’s probably one of the strongest scents I’ve smelled, like Ushiwaka levels strong—“

“I told you to never say that name again,” you suddenly snapped to which she just waved off. 

“Will you please get over that, you’re twenty fucking four now.” You clenched your jaw and pursed your lips, silently seething at your sister. “Anyways, whoever it is must have a big personality too, like I feel like his scent is giving your jacket more presence than both of ours put together— oooh what’s that!” She suddenly pointed at the bento box.

She always did have the attention span of a flee… especially when it came to food.

You looked down at the meal, “Oh, someone at work gave it to me today. You can have it if you want.” You then turned and opened your refrigerator to put it away.

”Hold up,” she grabbed your shoulder and forced you to face her again, “Someone at work? As in one of the million Alphas you work with?”

“Why do you and little sis both think I work with a million Alphas?” You rolled your eyes.

”Answer the question.”

”Yeah. It was one of them. So what? He said they were leftovers.”

”(Y/N),” she said your name seriously.

”What…?”

”That Alpha that gave you that. He’s courting you.”

You were pretty sure you stopped breathing at those words. You could practically hear the fax machine noises as you tried to comprehend the meaning of that statement.

”Bokuto-san… courting?” No. “Stop being stupid,” you hissed, slamming the refrigerator shut and stomping past her now.

He was just overly friendly with everyone. And someone like Bokuto with his big and shining personality, the kind of Alpha that made Omegas swoon when even getting a hint of whatever scent he had that your Beta nose couldn’t pick up (you’ve even witnessed it). Someone that strong and powerful would want an Omega. You’ve even heard from his teammates that he purely ran on instinct— why would his instinct tell him to court a Beta.

”I don’t know who this Bokuto is but I’m telling you he’s courting you.”

”He isn’t,” you hissed with finality. Your sister immediately straightened up. It was an underhanded trick but you realized long ago that Omegas would even listen to Betas with the right tone. “Drop the subject because you’re starting to piss me off. Alphas like him don’t like people like me alright? Now I’m going to get changed, we’re gonna watch movies together, and then I’m gonna drag your ass to take my Pilates class with me. Understood?”

There was a sour look on her face but she nodded, “… yeah, alright.” You walked upstairs, ignoring her when you overheard her muttering, “I don’t see why I need to take your dumb class with you though…”

* * * *

Part 2

[estrellami-1]

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[sacchiri]

[Hellsing] Female Fans' Round-Table Discussion

A 6-page interview from the 2012 Hellsing Official Guidebook, featuring five grown-ass women chatting about Hellsing in a casual discussion format and translated into English for the first time ever by yours truly.

Honestly this was way more entertaining to read than I thought it would be. It’s also really funny seeing this super-casual discussion printed in the book right alongside Hirano's—-oh who am i kidding, this is 10x more professional and less deranged than whatever goes on in Hirano’s interviews.

Anyway, without further ado...

Does Hellsing have little to no female fans? Nay! Assembled before you are five women with an undying love for the series. Let’s see their passion for this work show itself as they butt heads!

Is the female fanbase just hiding itself or what?

Moderator: Now then, everyone, let’s start off with introductions.

Ms. T: I am Ms. T. I’ve been walking the path of an otaku since middle school, and it’s already been ● years since then. How do I put this, all of you seem like fairly normal people…

Everyone: Oh no—rest assured we are all otaku as well. (laughter)

Ms T: Oh, really? (laughs) Anyway, I’ve continued to love manga for all this time. Thank you for having me.

Ms J: I’m Ms J. I was already at a decent age when Hellsing began serialization, but to create something so enticing—as expected of Hirano-sensei! (laughs). This is the kind of manga I’d better buy and collect, I thought.

Ms A: Out of today’s gathering, I’m probably the one who became an otaku at the oldest age. (laughs) My friend told me, “Hellsing is a manga that really crazy people read”, so at first I couldn’t get around to starting it. But around the time volume 8 came out, I binge-read it, and it was so interesting that I couldn’t help but get obsessed.

Ms R: I’m probably the youngster in this group. By the time Hellsing started serialization, I was just entering middle school. [T/N: That makes her 27 at the time of this interview.]

Of course we didn’t really have the term "edgy-teen syndrome" back then, but around me the manga was definitely gaining popularity in that edgy teen fashion. One of my best friends was obsessed with Hellsing and I’d borrow it after they finished reading it, and I got addicted too.

Moderator: I’m under the impression that the female readership for Hellsing is overwhelmingly small, but…

Ms J: Nah, I think they’re just hiding. I mean, it’s not like you’d talk about Hellsing to someone in passing. You wouldn’t suddenly say, “Y’know, Alucard is…”

Everyone: True. (laughs)

Ms J: There isn’t much opportunity to bring it up, or perhaps you could say it’s a hard topic to bring up to the general public.

Ms A: Like how you can’t have a pork-and-rice bowl first thing in the morning or something.

Ms J: Yeah, like that. Actually, among my circle of female otaku friends, everyone has read Hellsing.

Ms T: Among manga fans, Kouta Hirano is well-understood.

Ms J: Any fan of manga who doesn’t know Kouta Hirano is a faker!

Ms T: Disregarding whether you’ve properly sat down and read his works or not, I feel like it’s impossible for a manga enthusiast to not have at least heard of Hirano-sensei. But we are talking about manga fans in general, and the range of tastes is so broad. If someone were to say to me “I’m a fan of Kouta Hirano”, only then would I be like, “Oh, so I can talk comfortably with this person”.

Moderator: It’s a good litmus test to use. (laughs)

Ms A: It’s only when you broach the topic of Kouta Hirano that you can finally talk about Hellsing. You can’t go straight from “So I hear you like manga” to “So, about Hellsing…”, lol.

Ms J: If you met someone for the first time and you go “So I heard you like manga? What about Hellsing?” that’s like coming straight for their throat with a knife. (laughs)

Moderator: Even as a gauge to see how much of an otaku your opponent is, it’s a bit too much to try and break the ice with Hellsing.

The wonders of dialogue

Ms J: Speaking of the good points of Hellsing, I think it’s that it doesn’t get overly preachy. You can see this starting from Cross Fire, but you really get the sense that everyone’s equally crazy here.

Ms A: I can see that. No one is on the side of justice. Like the Major, he’s a nasty little guy. The type of guy who would casually twist off an ant’s legs or something like that.

Ms J: That Major, his beta male levels are literally off the charts.

Everyone: (bursts into laughter)

Ms J: Actually, something that caught my interest about the setting is that only virgins can become vampires. In the first place, I don’t think European vampire lore makes that kind of distinction.

Ms T: Father Anderson is probably a virgin, since he has religious reasons for celibacy. Though it might depend on religious sect. I wonder if there’s a meaning behind this concept of chastity?

Ms J: The idea of chastity is valued in the Hellsing universe as well.

Ms A: Right, since if you aren’t a virgin you become a ghoul, and then it’s game over and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Ms R: Speaking of which, Integra’s a virgin, too.

Ms T: Integra being a virgin is an important part of the story.

Ms J: In my personal opinion, the best couple is definitely Alucard and Integra.

Ms R and Ms A: I was going to say the same!

Ms T: Integra and Alucard call each other “Count”, don’t they? You know, in a previous life it’s possible that Integra was a man. Perhaps Alucard is seeing the Count Hellsing of the past through Integra. Thinking about that possibility makes a girl’s heart flutter. Not to mention Integra’s appearance leans towards that of a man— Ah, it’s just so peak! [T/N: I'm not being facetious, 盛り literally means peak]

Ms A: Those who want to read a male/female romance can enjoy doing so, and for people who like BL, there are plenty of elements that can be enjoyed as BL also. I feel like the reason you can enjoy both things is because the relationships that are depicted are not constrained purely to sexual love.

Ms J: For those who like to read into the BL aspect, there are lots of fight scenes that can’t be ignored, can they? Particularly in the endgame. Like Girlycard and Young Walter, that was...really something.

Moderator: That part was just unfair! I mean, after getting captured by Millennium and going M.I.A., all that anticipation was building and building, and for Walter to be reintroduced like that!

Ms J: When I got to that part I was like, “Man, Hirano-sensei really did his best to keep all that stuff pent-up for so long". For both Walter and Girlycard, I mean.

Moderator: Speaking of Girlycard, I get the feeling that the idea for her was in place since the early stages of story development.

Ms J: I wonder about that… on the other hand it seems like it was a very spontaneous decision. (laughs)

Ms A: Even if the story developments feel spontaneous, I feel like the characters' settings are polished to a high degree from the beginning. Even though a new character suddenly appears out of nowhere, you end up following along without feeling a sense of discomfort. In Hirano-sensei's mind, I'm sure that each character is cultivated with an equal amount of attention. After that it's just a matter of deciding what situations the character will appear in.

Ms J: Each character is excellently molded to their place in the story. Even though normally it should be very challenging to create characters that would fit in this sort of world. (laughs) From the moment of their introduction, they are already dyed in Hirano's unique brand, and you can tell that Hirano understands them well.

Ms R: After all, characters from his past works before Hellsing make appearances in the manga, so you get the feeling that these are ideas that have been stewing in his head for a long time.

Moderator: And within Hellsing too, these characters grow and develop. Like Maxwell—he started out as a mere brat, but then he went full tryhard mode and developed that cunning and pretentious side to him.

Everyone: (leans forward) Yeah, that's right!!

Ms J: —And he had that past with Anderson, didn't he? I was like "Hold on a sec, a flashback scene now, are you kidding me"? Even though I knew that a flashback is basically a death flag, I couldn't help but love it. (laughs)

Ms A: At the final moment, Maxwell called Anderson "Sensei", a reversal of their dynamic thus far. Up until then there were hints of foreshadowing, but nothing definite. But with that single word you could feel the adoration Maxwell had felt for Anderson when he was a child... It's amazing how potent that line was. The timing of delivery was excellent, too.

Ms R: Up until that point Maxwell was portrayed as nothing more than a snob, but the truth is there were reasons why he became that way.

Ms T: Hirano-sensei is very skilled at depicting relationships between men.

The beauty of composition

Ms A: In Hellsing, there aren't any characters that go too far beyond the range of normal anatomy.

Even with regards to enemies and such, there aren't any massively gargantuan or bulky characters. Everyone is more or less normal. And yet, there is so much impact in the poses that it leaves you with a strong impression. Those standout panels just radiate style—so much so that anyone with an eye for art will be impressed by them, I think.

Ms T: The paneling is relatively simple, but the composition sense of each panel is amazing.

Ms R: I love the stuff like Rip Van's silhouette. The balance between her and the musket is super cool. Even though something that size in real life would be impractical to shoot, it looks so cool that it's like, "Who cares!"

Ms A: Fight scenes that should have a lot of movement are instead surprisingly depicted with still frame shots, and they have a beauty to them reminiscent of paintings. It makes me want to stare at the same handful of panels for a long time. Calling it aesthetic beauty might be a bit of an exaggeration, but...

Ms T: Not an exaggeration at all, I think there is a lot of aesthetic beauty. For me, when I look at Hirano-sensei's artwork, I'm reminded of ukiyo-e paintings. And in the movement, I sense a bit of kabuki theater.

Moderator: Each panel is created with beauty in every nook and cranny, so as to work as a standalone illustration.

Ms R: The way shadow and blood is depicted is so good, isn't it? It really makes full use of the monochrome medium.

Ms A: When I was reading the scene in volume 8 when Cromwell Level 0 is released and soldiers are unleashed in hordes, it reminded me of a medieval copperplate engraving. The plot developments in that moment were so interesting, and the density of the illustrations so rich, that simply staring at them was enjoyable.

Ms T: It really draws you in, doesn't it? In other manga that have very detailed art styles, the realism makes it feel similar to a liveaction movie. But Hirano's works are 100% "manga", I would say. In that sense, none of it is realistic at all. But that's why it's possible to achieve poses and compositions that are impossible with photography, and that's why he can portray things I didn't even know I would want to see.

The position of women in Hellsing

Moderator: To all of you, was there a scene where you were like, "This scene right here is where I became obsessed"?

Ms J: So this is my personal taste, but I liked the setup of the handsome lady Master and the handsome male Servant. I like butlers, too. So once those three conditions were satisfied, I was like, "This is a good manga". The part where I was like "This is a really good manga" was when Anderson was introduced. At first, I was thinking this would be a story where Alucard dotes upon Seras and raises her up as a vampire, but then we were introduced to a Catholic priest from the same religion, yet who aims to defeat the protagonists...

Ms A: You can't deny the impact of Anderson. The only thing he wants to do is "exterminate vampires". While characters in Hellsing may undergo sudden changes, they never waver. They race from their introduction to their final chapter with just as much momentum as when they were first introduced. Not only is it satisfying to read, you won't be disappointed. As long as your favorite character appears, you can focus all your attentions on them, and before you know it you'll have binge-read to the last chapter. (laughs)

Ms T: For me, the scene when Integra discovers Alucard in the basement, and Alucard was revived with her blood is when I became hooked. While it is an expected development for vampire stories, that part of the story was very beautiful. And afterwards, I loved the tender portrayal of Seras's growth. Among ero-guro media, there are many works that portray women in a demeaning manner, but Hellsing is not one of them.

Ms A: In Hellsing, there is no distinction in the roles that are assigned to men and women.

Ms J: Indeed, women fight and stand on the front lines. And it feels natural.

Ms R: To tell the truth, when I first started reading Hellsing, I thought Integra was a man. And, for some reason it felt overly pandering [T/N: I assume she means pandering to fujoshi] and I just couldn't get into it. But then I realized Integra was a woman, and I was like "Oh, so it's a female/male master-servant relationship! I'm sorry for making such a weird assumption!" (laughs) I feel like it's important that Integra is a woman.

Ms T: In volume 1 there were moments where Integra was told incredulously, "You're a woman?", but in those moments I always felt that, ironically, being called a "woman" was what made her so much more cool. In Hellsing, you get the feeling that all characters are loved by the creator regardless of being male or female, enemy or ally. There are many standout characters among the villains, for example.

Ms J: Each character showcases their individuality in their fighting style as well.

Ms A: I love that Rip Van is this scrawny girl with long limbs, who wields an old-fashioned musket—it gives off a really fantastic impression. The fact that a girl is given that kind of position, without it feeling offensive. When men draw female characters there tends to be a bit of double standards going on, or it can feel cloying or annoying depending on the scenario, but I don't feel that in Hellsing.

Ms J: Far from being annoying, the depictions of women feel unique and cool in their own way.

Ms A: You're right. Traditionally, female characters are accompaniments to the hero, aren't they? But Integra takes the lead, and while Seras is supported by those around her, she moves according to her own choices. Even among the female villains, they are given important roles that they carry out to the end, so you can read while feeling a sense of satisfaction.

Points you would recommend to other women

Ms T: Doesn't the series in general have a sort of sensuality?

Ms J: It does. As it gets nearer and nearer to the endgame, even the fight scenes show more tenderness. It's like a "They love each other, therefore they trade blows" vibe that feels erotic.

Ms R: When Alucard returned to London in volume 8, it felt pretty romantic.

Ms T: On the other hand, the explanations about weapon specs that pop up everywhere seem very male-oriented. I guess this is what you call the author's hobby.

Ms J: Speaking of the author's hobby, I feel like the fact that Walter is an old man is one of them. If you think about it purely in terms of reader appeal, there should have been no problem if Walter was young from the beginning. I get the impression that he was like, "If you're going to add a butler, it better be an old geezer". Ahh—the more I reread, the more I feel like I discover new things.

Moderator: There is plenty more we weren't able to talk about, but to close us off, please appeal to the women who haven't read Hellsing yet as to why they should read the series.

Ms A: The female characters are so full of life, so why not give it a try mainly for the female characters?

Ms T: You can read it together with your boyfriend! There are lots of battles and weapons that guys would like, and there's no nasty relationship drama, so it might actually be a big hit among couples.

Ms J: "Look at Integra and Alucard, honey, they're just like us!" or something? (laughs)

Ms R: When you think of vampire media, you might be inclined to imagine something campy and whimsical. But even though there's a lot of absurdism at play, the world is based on real historical facts. So I want to recommend it broadly, even to those that don't normally enjoy fantasy.

Ms T: I feel like Hellsing is like a very strong liquor. At first you might feel that the taste is overwhelming, but once you get used to it, it becomes delicious.

Ms J: Please go in with zero expectations and give it a read.

Moderator: Thank you all for your time today!

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

Link to the raw scans (which are not mine). Feel free to spread and repost my translation to other sites.

[tmntxthings]

how would they behave if turtles and the reader had a kid?

well, let’s see…

immediately when I think of Raphael, I’m reminded of all the episodes where he’s telling his brothers not to do something because it’s dangerous or just him being super overbearing with Mikey cause he’s the youngest, now that’s just his brothers! Imagine this turtle with kids?! Raph is the kind of Dad who’s constantly checking in, all throughout your pregnancy he’s making sure you feel no pain, and he’s carrying you if he sees the slightest swelling from your ankles!

Once the baby is born, oh my goodness, he hasn’t left their side! Swaddled in blankets and cradled in the crook of his arm. He is most definitely falling asleep in that position too. As the kid gets older he’s constantly in their room, checking in! All of his favorite stuffed animals are no longer his own. They belong to baby! When that child finally learns how to walk, then to run!Raph is not ready!!! He’s worried, constantly there catching them when they fall. Raising his voice with concern, “Slow down!!” “No running!” “Watch out for the corner—!!!!” And if somehow, someway Raph isn’t there to protect them from the inevitable. If he’s in another room or whatever the case and hears his little ball of happiness crying, he’s there in the next second. Comforting and cooing, wiping away tears and kissing booboos all better! “Don’t worry I’m here, Dada’s here!” He’s the most attentive parent, but also the equivalent of a helicopter parent. Just the constant hovering, it’ll be cute until those teenage years when they start to rebel and do some questionable stuff!! Raph will have plenty of heart attacks but he will learn just like he did with Mikey that sometimes you gotta let the babies spread their wings!

…Just not too far away! ❤️❤️❤️

Leonardo is the epitome of cool dad. It comes naturally to him. Of course! When your pregnant he’s soooo excited, wants the gender to be a surprise! Loves them wholeheartedly no matter what they are! While Raph is super duper careful, Leo is way more laidback. Leo is actually the one chasing after his tot once they learn how to walk/run. He turns back into a child because of them, playing silly games, running around the house and jumping on furniture! Definitely knocking things over and getting plenty of bruises. Both him and tiny tot! “Uh oh did that hurt? Oh no no, it’s okayyyy! Look look Daddy got a bruise too. Ouchie! But it’s okay, we’re okay!” Now I have no clue what a safe age to start portal-ing but yeah, many a-portal-pranks! The type of dad to do jump scares for fun! This little kid will grow up a rascal through and through! Daddy Leo taught them well. But make no mistake, just because he’s more laidback than Raph does not mean that Leo won’t go berserk if he finds out someone is messing with his little tot!

Protective when needed! 💙💙💙

Donatello with kids. Where do I begin? I’ll keep going with this ‘how overbearing would they be’ scenario since that’s the theme I’ve stuck with for the first two. Donnie is a planner. He’s a problem solver. So I imagine he’s been preparing ever since the two of you starting trying for kids…maybe even before that… but most definitely mapping things out once he knows your pregnant. And when those nine months come to a close he’s got everything. Everything. I’m not a parent so I don’t know the essentials but like Donnie would have a whole room (color coded to light purple obviously), meal preps, and carefully crafted toys for whenever they reach certain ages! All very stimulating and made for educational purposes because this baby shall be the smartest baby ever! I’m sure they will be a little genius by the time they can talk in Donnie’s careful hands. Because that baby will have seen some high caliber tech when being held by their dear Papa. And where Donnie once would talk to himself about his own creations he now had a little listener…who couldn’t talk back yet, but was surely listening with big, round eyes! So cute!!!! (Also I didn’t mention this previously but each baby is definitely getting a shade of their father’s color. Like they had no chance in that department!!) So yeah Donnie is more on the unhinged side of protective parenting like Raph. Very adamant about knowing exactly where his little bundle of joy is at all times!

Tracker? Most definitely 💜💜💜

Michelangelo is a cool dad like Leo, but more understanding. It should come as no surprise since he’s a very empathetic turtle! But in this sense he knows how it feels to be young and to always be watched/babied/doubted! Now make no mistake that baby will be by Mikey’s side 24/7 until they can vocalize the need for space! Boundaries shall then be set and Mikey most likely will never cross them unless for a serious/good reason! I also think that there is a good chance Mikey’s kid will become an iPad kid. Not because he won’t be around or isn’t entertaining! But because I think Mikey is a iPad kid as well, so they will both be watching YouTube or playing Minecraft together! And there is a good chance all of the turtle’s kids will turn out this way. I think the only one who may not would be Raph and that’s a questionable maybe! I think we all know how Mikey felt when his favorite place (pizza place) in the world was destroyed for no reason at all! If his child was to ever get hurt, or made to cry by malicious intent, then you can assume he will have a similar, aggressive reaction to the person who hurt his little tot so badly! But of course he is civil, who will ask questions and try to get apologies before it gets out of hand. So Karen/?Chad’s? beware! Coloring and cooking are the go to bonding activities at the appropriate age! “Alright chef, what’s on the menu tonight?! Cookies?? Well, okay okay that can be dessert, but what about the main course? …Brownies… hmmm..”

“How about pizza?!” 🧡🧡🧡

[theastrical]

yesterday exist; so does today

Alzheimer is a hastle to deal with, you know this well, after all you’ve been here since the day you graduated nursing school, yet you’re still working in the central care centre for the paycheck. You know you shouldn’t have involved yourself in the matter of patients, realising it would emotionally torture you till you retire.

kaeya & fem!reader (platonic relationship)

implied major character death, mentions of suicide, heavy angst, comfort/hurt

note: hmmm honestly i don’t really know what i write since i write this out of boredom..AO3 LINK

“Kaeya Alberich, age 35. Current symptoms, memory loss and confusion.” same old thing again and again, writing down the patient’s data and insert it into sheets for the centres “transparency”, interacting with them and leave them to the hands of the doctors until they finally meet death years later. you read the data that was preserved on your desk and you gave off a long sigh, just like another day, a patient’s data worth of nothing on your hands are waiting to be checked by you.

The writing was messy, like an old calligraphy, the patient placed the picture quite asymmetrically, he also seemed to have slipped down several documents which you also have to read. Some of it written as “confidential, only medical teams and legal experts can access”. Finally, something to stick your nose into that makes this job at the very least, interesting.

“hey you look like you wanna bleach your own eyeballs, what’s up, new patient?”

you got caught up by one of your closest colleagues, jumped through the words, your voice all hoarse from the lack of water you consumed. “Yea, he gave me these documents that probably cost me half an hour to read…”, the americano you bought almost gone, making you to give a longer sigh.

“don’t bother buying another coffee, your shift is almost done.” , your colleague implies after your words.

“Hmm…okay.”, muttering the words. Your eyes widened by the data he had registered over himself.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a patient who registered themself over their own name instead of a legal guardian, right?” , you asked your colleague, who seemingly has no life inside his eyes.

“hm? yeah, in fact, i’ve only gotten two people who registered themself here, two of them are old folks without a family…their death made me mentally drained, i miss them both.”

“fuck”, you curse with a voice that now seems to have a slight regret on it. “What?”, he replied. “He’s not even old enough to register himself in this centre”, “how old is he?”, your colleague asked out of curiosity, since this sort of cases can make your mind all rounded, he’s young, so why bother admit himself in this death row…”thirty five, 7 more months to thirty six”. “our age, is it not?”, he replied while moving his chair to your desk, now interested. “based on how he write his data, the symptoms are already chronic.”, you mutter, observing every of the information while your colleague looking through his diagnosis.

“goodluck taking care of him”, your colleague pat your back.

and just like that, you know you’re going to face the most emotional phase you’ve ever had in this hell-hole workplace.

By Saturday, you met the man. His eyes are sharp, rigid and bold, hue blue that never to be seen before, and believe it or not, he looks like he came out of a fictional series. His eye-bags are visible and his hair all tangled up from the braid he made by himself, allegedly. “Goodmorning, am i talking to Mr. Kaeya Alberich?” , he fidget his fingers over his cardigan, playing with the cloth that he worn just to avoid any of his hallucination and confusion. I know that means he’s uncomfortable with the surrounding or maybe his own existence…”yes..”, his voice sounds like a chirping crows, hoarse and deep, yet soothing to hear.

“Sorry, i have to ask, why am i here..?”, oh my, it already seems like he’s already losing his sense.

you take his confidential papers and explain it to him, all patient and prepared to have him lose his mind, you explain it with a voice that made his ears able to accept it just by a slight mutter, “mr. Alberich, the papers say that you choose this centre so you can go through your daily life without worrying of improper death. Hence you’re here to retrieve the deal, to have yourself admitted in here.”, he looks at you with confusion, but suddenly he changed his thought and his once-reaction flew from that face of his. “Oh? Hahaha! Is that why i’m here? Because of myself?? Oh funny! I haven’t write that one on my notes! Maybe i have to after this!!”, his laugh sounds sarcastic, it makes you uncomfortable…but alzheimer patients are always like this, they can’t control what they currently suffer from and you’re the one to take care of em.

“anything else would you like me to explain?”

“quick question, what’s your name?”

“[name]”…you seem to have doubt his question, whatever he needs from you to ask your name? This is weird.

“nice to meet you, would you mind taking care of me while being my friend?”

“you don’t have one sir?”, shit, i dropped the bomb.

“i have one, but we…i-…i forgot haha..”

it’s expected, his scan was something out of the ordinary, it’s no use trying to avoid the worst case scenario, it’s already in front of him.

“mr. Alberich, i would love to dis—“

“s-sorry can i have some water first..? I forgot to bring my water bottle from my apartment..”

you nod and brought him a cup of water, you start to inhale the air around you. “So..can we start our discussion? If so, may i ask you to fill out of these forms for me, if you’re unable to, we can ask your legal guardian or…”

“i’m sorry uh…i-i don’t remember my legal supervisor or guardian…” he stops at his track, probably going all confused from the lack of context his brain has dismay for him. “may i ask wether you can help me fill this out based on the…i-i don’t remember the registration i made sorry… but can you fill out based on those..?”

“It’s fine i understand…let me accompany you to the doctor’s office, how does that sound? I’ll inform the doctor about your details after the check ups…since this is a u—“

“doctor’s office..? I thought this is a library..? I must’ve gotten lost…i should borrow the book to write an essay for the professor oh shit..?! N-nurse?!! Wh-why did—“

suddenly your colleague barge in to the conversation to help you with this patient you’re handling, a rare cause that can’t be helped by a normal being.

“Sir, please calm down. This is Alzheimer medical centre, the papers say that today you’re being admitted to this ward for the sake of your own self, so please don’t act rash. We’re here to help you.”

he calmed down before tears run out from his eyes. Typical symptoms of Alzheimer patients are their intense change of emotions, it’s hard to deal with since you don’t know either if they’re going to stay sad, happy, or angry, or just…neither? You don’t know, even your colleague can’t read them.

you pat his back, “sir, how about you talk to the doctor first and we can discuss about the next matters soon? Will that be easier for you?”, your voice sounds genuine, this is the first time though. This man ticks your heart to feel such an empathetic move, it doesn’t make sense, since you never feel the need to feel them too.

“…sure…i’m getting insane….please help me nurse….f-fuck i don’t even remember your name…”, he chuckles after that insane remark he just made. “o-okay, l-let’s just go…make sure that i won’t die before my birthday…please..?” Is that his last wish? If it is…then sure, i’ll make sure tomorrow and today exist for him. I can always do that but…why now? Why him? Shit whatever happened to the promise i made to myself?

“okay. I will.” i smiled, shit, i’m not even that good on keeping promise to myself. I just broke it now…and i’m currently lying too. What if he expect so much?

he’ll just forget it, i’m sure of that.

but then the guilt? No…no, i don’t even want to think about it anymore.

everyday, you would visit him, in that small room, the aroma-therapy you had set for him was quite of…soothing and pleasant, you’ve always put some aromatherapy on the side of chronically ill patients just for them to remember that they’re currently living on reality, for them to remember that…they’re currently still going on with their life and that’s fine, it’s hard enough to survive, to wake up. Kaeya seems to have knew this well, after all, he would always greet you with a smile, a ghostly smile. He would always talk to you, trying his best to train his vocal, sometimes there’s hole inside his conversation, but that’s okay, he tried to stick in the present and not in the future. That’s enough for you to know that kaeya still has the energy to keep on living.

he’s surviving…all he had is this room, his clothes, and himself. No, not even himself. He doesn’t even know the existence of himself. Maybe i’m the replacement of that blank space across his memory? Yeah that’s what a nurse supposed to be, right?

he had always stare at the window when you passed through the hall of the ward, almost like he had lost his senses over that spot. Sometimes you would hear him mutter…”don’t…jump.” to the window, his tears coming through his eyes, and his hands are shaking. It was terrifying, at first. He would get near the window while his eyes are all watery and he doesn’t seem to realise his own movement.

“hey…stay alive…”

“hey…hey….i’m here…”

“why did you jump…?” , this exact sentence hasn’t been told before. Thus, made you jump into conclusions…

after what happens to be an hour after that mutters he made inside the room, you went to check on him. He’s on the couch, reading his own essay. The handwriting almost unreadable, the essay was long, confusing, and…the papers are all scraped.

“Hey…mom?”, shit, it’s only been a month since he was admitted here. The scan told me that his progress is fast and horrid…yet this one is too much.

you continue the act, that’s what you’ve been told and what you’ve learned. “yes kaeya..?” .

“mom, an insane person leave this paper inside this house…can we stop…renting this place..? It’s dangerous right? Can we leave mom..? I’m scared…i’m so scared mom.” he nudge on your clothes and start to hug your arm.

“n-no sweetie…there’s no such as an “insane person”. Now…how about we eat our food first to keep you healthy from being hunted by the ghost..?” This would be a good way to communicate with kaeya…you thought. Sihce he’s slowly losing touch, it’s better for him to dream, after all…he wants to survive this until his birthday, right…?

you served him the food…it’s not the best one, yet it already made kaeya hungry. Though, suddenly he loses his reconnection to his hallucinations once more..

when he look at you again, his face turns into a confusion…he smiles politely, “s-sorry uh…i remember meeting my mother…uhm…might i ask if you know where is she and…who are you?”

“I’m [name]…and you must be kaeya right? Your mother asked me to have you here.” You lied, so whatever you would say can never shocked him nonetheless.

“o-oh i see…but mother has died…just a few days ago…she jumps from that balcony…” he points out to the window, there’s no balcony, he’s hallucinating that he is on his house now. “well..at least i know mom left me with a new friend…right, [name]..?”, you gulp, yet you just smile and nod. You know this is the only way he can connect to the world…

“kaeya?”

“….who’s kaeya?”, he asked you. His eyes wander. Then it meet yours. He holds your hands, securely. “I wanna know kaeya…i’m…yaya…mother told me i’m yaya so i’m yaya..”

“somebody i know, you’re interested?”, you teased him, your voice brightful, chuckling at the way he seems so interested at the man she would call his past, sugarcoating the man you see before you. It has been 2 in a half month since he was admitted here, tomorrow is already the third month.

“is he…smart?”, that’s the first thing he asked. He’s presenting your image as a maid that has the same as his. His hallucination seems to touch the corner of his past..

“no he’s dumb…he doesn’t remember my name.”

you told him and he immediately scoffs..”hmph! Then why do you talk about him, i don’t like dumb folks.” He must be a brat back when he was a kid huh?

“Nothing, just feels like it.”

“then you’re quite of dumb for thinking and talking about him..he probably doesn’t remember you. So abandon him!” his hallucinations are actually right, he doesn’t remember you and you’ve been trying your best to make sure that even when everything goes bad…he still has the chance to live.

because…you can see yourself in this position. Helpless, nobody, and lonely. The emotional relation that connects you both are intense and unintentional. Yet you kept on trying to make sure, the part of you that he has in him…is enough to keep him living. Since, all you wanted is to see another version of the person you want to be..alive. You read the confidential paper on your desk once more, the one where he slip over his registration papers after you leave him all alone inside his room.

“This hasn’t been legally acclaimed and i just like to have this piece of information slip through the files you guys have of me by now. i have read several of information about this disease, i know that i can die just by being there or here, but there are somethings i like to share about my life. Something that would probably remind you when you see me through this illness, hallucination or memory loss, or both, maybe you can correlate those with my story. My mother committed when i turned 15, that was her present for me…she loathe me, she think of me as a burden for not being the one who’s sick enough to die just like my adoptive brother, diluc. So when she die…i thought i also have to die. After all, i have nobody, my father was away and i’m just his adoptive son, whatever have i done to this family? So…in my early adulthood, i develop a chronic memory loss due to trauma, as per my psychiatrist mentioned. It was…alright, at first. But then..at the age of 30, it becomes some-what more like a delusional. I know it wasn’t right so i decided to check myself at this age, 35, when i barely even remember what is my name without my phone reminding me who i am again and again. I wanna die…i can’t help but to live off the guilt i didn’t even made. So please…my only last wish is to die at the age of 36…just like the age of my late mother. Alzheimer is my karma and i wish, for all of you, to repent my sins…just like what i intend to do.”

“I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on all of you, but i assure…this is what i intend to do for the sake of the guilt that drive me insane everyday.”

I realise that He’s a suicidal bastard who’s unlucky, i’m trying…i’m trying so hard so he can live and survive another day. ‘Cus i…i can let somebody as young as kaeya to die and rot in a bed that every patient left with silence in their heart. Cus i can’t let somebody who always smile at me for giving them survival chance to die. His instinct says that he wants to live, so why bother reminding him of this. I’ll just follow his hallucination…until he finally know that he lives and he has to. So please…don’t remember your last wish, just remember that…the day you die, is the day you wish to rest forever.

So kaeya, remember that i’m here, for you to live, until you’re exhausted.

At the fourth month, he lost half of his memory of his adulthood.

At the fifth month, he lost his mobility. Limiting his speech and whatever he usually do daily…is nothing.

i kept trying, i kept on trying…so he wouldn’t remember his last wish. I want to change his course. Cause tomorrow and today still can be change, it still exist the way it is.

10 days before his birthday, you nag on him. Telling him a delusional story you made out of his hallucination for the past months. You’ll pretend to be his mother, his brother, and everything…convincing kaeya to survive. His muscle memory reacted, positively, just like what you expected. After all, you’re trying your best…to make sure that this man last longer than his initial death, cause he deserve one last chance that Alzheimer cannot give to him.

“kaeya…mother is proud of you for reaching this far.”, you mutter to his ears…it perks up. His head wants to move to the direction of your eyes.

“kaeya…you’re doing great…don’t give up now, it’s almost your birthday, maybe let’s have a party with diluc too? He enjoys being with you too, you know?” , his muscle picks up that words and smile slowly.

“kaeya…what do you wish for..? I’m sorry that i can’t be the best mother…that’s what you asked for right..? A present mother..?”,

“Then…survive this week…next week…and more months to come. You deserve a chance to live and see more of the world..” you recreate the words he helplessly crave, so kaeya….with all of his might, able to live, able to regain his purpose in life, to have his guilt all weakened, to the point that he decided to…live for another day. It seems evil, indeed, it is evil, but that’s what he needs…kaeya deserves to live unlike those old fucks that has no manners, kaeya is only a child in adult’s body…

he wants to live, but he can’t…right?

“kaeya…happy birthday….” , you mutter the words perfectly. You pronounce the words as if you’ve already excelled your ways to imitate kaeya’s mother for him. If it’s sympathy, why are you being so kind..? If it’s empathy, why does it matter if he’s alive or not? Because at the end of the day, you find yourself in that piece of him, a kid in a grown up body, and you wish to have somebody like you…live another day, just like you.

he cried. somehow…his tears shows his pain…his past…and everything. Despite the delusion you’re feeding him with, he still holds onto the hope of another day where he can hear his mother’s forgiveness.

his tears was falling rapidly while his eyes are all shining…finally, you sighed. There’s a hint of survival in his eyes once more and it made you…proud, even when you’re not a thing to them.

he survived 36…and i hope i survived 67 too. It’s nice to know that you’re my last patient, kaeya…let’s chat again, i know you would love to hear my story…even when you don’t remember my name any longer.

you put the flower on his memorial space.

from “nurse [name], have a happy reunion with your family.”

taglist: @dailypenpen , @daydreaming-paradies

[fanficapologist]

Oof, here we go!! Maera went there!! I couldn’t believe what I just read. I thought I was hallucinating the words.

Oooh the nerve of Aemond, I mean if I were Maera I’d ignore him too. He doesn’t get any sympathy from me. In this universe, even if he’d lain with Alys as a means to an end, and not because he felt something for her, well, we can’t deny the proof of it now can we.

I was also seething at how the people around her - Alicent and even her father fully expect her to turn a blind eye to Aemond’s indiscretion all while she is held up to an impossibly high standard of always doing her best and just accepting it, as if she should be grateful Aemond still returns to her. I know we’re supposed to be judging them based on the standards of that time but it just reminded me that even now, little has changed. Just this afternoon my parents asked when I planned on getting married as I am nearly thirty. And the worst part is how marriage is seen as the solution to everything - because as they put it, what else was I going to do with my life if I didn’t get married? It just drives me mad because it implies that all my accomplishments amount to nothing until I secure a husband, not even that, as if my entire being is worthless until I got married.

Anyway, back to the story, we finally have the confrontation scene!! I had to process my feelings on this because my knee jerk reaction is to feel insulted, how dare Alys act like that as if she was the wife? But then, when I calmed down, I realized, it could also be a projection of my possessiveness to Aemond and to an extent Ewan Mitchell. Fanfiction makes me lose myself in the character so it’s easy to feel as if I’ve been slighted, yes, I’m feeling quite meta today. But in reality, or in canon, Alys isn’t really portrayed heavily enough for us to really get a glimpse of what she was like so it’s easy to paint her as the villain, the seductress who tempted Aemond but let’s not forget- Aemond also chose to lie with Alys. I want to be better and not just lay down the blame on the other woman. For all we know, Alys is amused because she’s past all that and finds the entire thing silly because she doesn’t want to steal Aemond. She already knows his heart belongs to Maera. I feel like she’s like this -taunting because Maera is wary of her. I mean I do want to give her the benefit of the doubt. But I suppose the only way I’ll find out is if I read the next chapter.

When you said drama I didn’t expect it on a Monday hahahahaha but this powered me through the day so thank you so much!! Hope you’re doing well!

I always live for your analysis of the chapters each time I upload 🖤

Aemond is so god damn stupid but think we’ve all gotta remember this boy is about 18/19 in this fic. That is so young! And what man doesn’t make dumb decisions at that age? (I like to think most of the wars in the medieval times are due to young men spitting their dummies out and acting on impulse, only to regret it later)

With Alys, you’re right. In the canon we don’t know an awful lot about her. I’m hoping to give her a bit more depth as a character with more interactions between her and Maera. I’m not sure how some of the audience will react to that. We’re all Aemond girlies and I’m sure there will be plenty of comments like “why doesn’t Maera just stab her ffs.” (Tbf id react the same 🤣) but we can’t just go round stabbing people, can we?

Maera’s got to play the game, and what a long game it will be. She’s going to have to be sneaky, clever and downright badass if she wants to succeed in this world, especially with a war going on.

I have the bulk of the next chapter, just down to editing now. (Spoiler: there will be smut 👀)

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Twenty Seven

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: 5,400

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God, it was awkward.

Eva nursed a glass of tequila, her second of the day and it was only ten in the morning. For two hours, she had been sitting there listening to Josh and Alexei argue. They spit point after point at one another, neither of them gaining any ground. Eva hadn’t said a word and was fairly sure that the two men forgot she was even sitting there.

She could have slept in.

“Its two weeks. We can do a lot with two weeks.”

“We could have two months and we wouldn’t be able to hide the mountain of evidence.”

“You’re underestimating us both, Alexei.”

“I’m being rational. Something you’ve failed to achieve lately.”

“I have been perfectly rational. The plan is solid.”

“The plan hinges on getting leverage over a man who has been one step ahead of us the whole time.”

A scoff. A roll of the eyes.

This went on in varying circular parries until Eva ran out of tequila and got up to pour another. On her way back to the couch, Josh finally remembered she was in the room.

“Eva, back me up.”

She looked between the two of them, “I don’t know how you think you’re going to get Diego to give you the contact for his supplier. He hasn’t budged on anything you’ve thrown at him so far.”

Alexei was smug, “See?”

Josh held up a finger, “That’s because I hadn’t perfected my technique. I’ve made improvements since then.”

“You mean since he tossed Eva aside like day old garbage?”

“Hey!” Eva cut in, offended.

Alexei shrugged, “Its true. You’ve tried to tempt him twice already. What makes you think he’ll take the next round of bait?”

Josh smiled, “Third times the charm.”

“Oh, please!” Alexei groaned, “This is not the time to play games.”

Eva tipped back her glass and emptied it. She went to pour another only to be sidelined by Josh. He snatched the glass from her and went around the bar to pour what looked like seltzer. She frowned at him, but took the drink and went back to her spot on the couch.

“I’m not playing games,” Josh snipped at Alexei, “I have it on good authority that Diego beat the ever loving shit out of someone that night.”

The seltzer she was sipping had a faint hint of salt in it. She thought about tossing it out, but didn’t want to instigate further ranting from Josh. He was in rare form. All his swagger, all his smooth congeniality was stripped back. It left him red faced and sweating, disheveled in a way that he would normally never allow.

Whose ass did Horacio kick that night? Eva tried to remember if his knuckles were bruised when he met her at the church. Her mind supplied an image of him sitting in the confessional, legs spread comfortably and not a hair out of place. It was a fair difference from what he looked like later, in the car.

Hair mussed. Breathing hard.

“Which authority?” Alexei demanded, “Who?”

Josh shrugged, “I have my sources.”

“Fuck your sources,” Alexei bit out, “We have an emergency on our hands. You have been hiding things from me for months and I am tired. I want to know everything you know and I want to know it now.”

Her husband rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar, “You’re getting soft, Alexei.”

Within one heartbeat and the next, Alexei had Josh snatched up by the collar and was speaking directly into his face in Russian. Eva understood absolutely none of it. What she did understand was the fear that slowly dragged across Josh’s face. The threat—it had to be a threat—was remarkably effective.

“I pay one of his security guys to let me know what he’s doing. The meetings he takes. Anything they can tell me,” Josh said.

The hair on her neck and arms rose in cold fear. Had Josh’s inside man been watching? Had they seen her with Horacio?

“He’s slippery,” Josh continued, “and secretive. But, my guy managed to get inside after we lost that shipment. Someone put it on the table that we might be playing with them and that we might not play with them if they had a little collateral.”

He nodded subtly towards Eva. She stilled, made her face remain neutral so as to give nothing away.

Alexei’s fists clenched, “And?”

Josh shrugged, “Diego cut it down. Said anyone who touched ‘the wife’ would lose a hand.”

Eva’s brain made a kind of ‘huh’ sound while she tried not to smile.

Letting go of Josh, Alexei wiped a hand across his face, “That’s what you’re basing this on?”

“Oh, come on,” Josh exclaimed with a wide sweep of his hand, “You’ve seen how he looks at her. He’s even threatened to kidnap her. Twice. Clearly, he’s got a thing for Birdie—although I can’t understand why.”

She sighed, irritated that he could still get that old barb in even after everything that had happened. It didn’t really matter that he was right—Horacio did have a thing for her. What mattered was that Josh thought he was right and nothing Alexei could say could convince him otherwise.

“Alright,” Alexei relented, “Why does it matter? We can get leverage another way.”

“It matters,” Josh enunciated, “because he pretends he doesn’t—scoffs at the idea, even. That fucking Mexican thinks he’s better than me. I won’t have it.”

Alexei covered his face with his hands and took a slow breath. Then, “Josh, we have bigger things to worry about than your ego.”

No shit, Eva thought while she silently sipped at the seltzer.

“That’s the beauty of it,” Josh asserted with light blooming in his eyes, “I can get what I need from Diego and knock him off his high horse. Its a two-for.”

Jesus Christ.

Dropping his hands to his hips, Alexei shook his head, “I’m going to go clean house. You stay here and play your little games, if you want. See how far that gets you.”

Eva watched Josh watch his best friend walk out of the room and almost felt sorry for him. He looked like a kicked puppy, floppy ears and all. Alexei was right, though. Josh was playing games that were going to get him into a hell of a lot of trouble. Even if he knew all the rules, his opponent had an ace up his sleeve and a stacked deck.

Josh straightened his collar and smoothed the fabric of his shirt. He briefly fiddled with the ring on his pinky. Then, he squared his shoulders and went to the bar to pour a drink into the family crystal. Bourbon in hand, he schooled his expression and visibly calmed himself.

“What time is it?”

Eva blinked, “What?”

“The time,” Josh demanded.

She glanced at the clock, “Ten thirty.”

“Good. Go put on a dress.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

He shook his head, “No. We’ll stay right here and wait for Diego.”

Eva flinched, “Why is Mr. Jimenez coming here?”

“Quit asking such stupid questions and go put on a fucking dress!”

She set her glass down and went upstairs.

In her closet, Eva went over the options. Knowing that Horacio was coming over made her decide against the more modest selections. It would play right into Josh’s hands, but Eva wanted to be noticed. Not just by Horacio, but by the man he was pretending to be.

Her hands stalled on a Bob Mackie halter dress in a shining teal.

Perfect.

Dress on and hair fluffed, Eva padded back downstairs in her bare feet. She entered The Lounge and took four steps into the room. Josh looked at her and gave a nod. Outfit approved.

As she passed him, he held out another seltzer water, “I need you sober.”

Eva’s mouth turned down, but she took the glass and sat on the couch. She would sip at it often enough to keep him happy, but no amount of rationing the water was going to keep her buzz going. She could feel it fading away with every ticking second and resented Josh for it all the more.

It was the acrid burn of that resentment that made Eva speak, “Alexei’s right, Josh. This isn’t going to work. He’s not interested in trading sex with me for information.”

“He is.”

“Maybe he just has a,” she searched for the word, “moral code, or something. Like, no women or children.”

Josh rolled his eyes and pulled out a pill bottle, “No man with his kind of reputation has a moral code.”

“I’m just saying that you’ve tried this twice already and it hasn’t worked. I think you need to consider that you might be wrong and its a waste of time.” A breath, “We have serious problems that we need to take care of right now.”

“You don’t think I know that?” he yelled, “You don’t think I know that we’ve got federal fucking agents just waiting for the green light to dig through my entire business, a business that I’ve worked my whole life to build?”

Eva was silent, but held his stare. She wasn’t bothered by the explosion of anger or the way he gripped the glass in his hand hard enough that it might shatter.

“I’ve got the formula and once we get the supplier, we can hold the entire fucking country hostage if we want.”

This did scare her.

Josh had an ego the size of the entire state of Louisiana, but he was usually smart enough to know when he needed to take a step back and be strategic. Ardent Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t be anywhere near as big as it was, if he didn’t. She didn’t understand where this recklessness had come from, but it was driving the path of his decision making right off a cliff.

“You’re not going to get far enough into manufacturing if you’re in jail, Josh.”

He scoffed and swallowed down the pill in his hand, “This whole thing will be held up in court for years. By the time it goes to jury trial, we’ll already be out of reach.”

Her brows drew together, “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he answered, “that I’m moving our production out of the country.”

Eva repeated the last four words slowly, her brain trying to figure out his meaning.

Josh held out his hands, palm up, “Why work so hard to get product across the border when I can build a factory right next door.”

“Next door?”

“In Mexico, Eva.”

Mexico.

Josh thought the product was coming from Mexico—because he thought Diego was from Mexico. Eva hoped she was there when he got punched in the face with the truth.

“What about all your other plans?” she asked, “The house? The renovations? We already paid the deposit for the contractors.”

He shrugged, “We’ll sell it.”

We’ll sell it.

Her home. He would sell it. Just like that.

Eva took a long drink from her glass to keep the venom on her tongue at bay, “Alright. What’s this new plan you have? Tell me how you’re going to get Diego to give you what you want.”

“Same plan as last time.”

“You mean the plan that didn’t work.”

“Okay, the same plan as the time before that.”

“So, the plan that also didn’t work.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “I told you, already. I perfected my technique.”

She didn’t give a fuck what he perfected.

“No.”

Eva was not going to go through that again. He thought the serum was safe before he injected it and it led to her passing out three feet from where she sat. She wasn’t going to allow him to put more poison into her veins.

“No?”

“No,” Eva repeated, “I’m not doing it. You can go get one of your mistresses to go along with your plan, but I won’t.”

She didn’t know if she had ever directly refused one of Josh’s requests—she certainly hadn’t with near as much ice in her tone. Her words made him draw back, incredulous.

“The fuck do you mean, no?”

“I mean no,” she said as she stood and set her glass on the coffee table. “Do whatever you want, but leave me out of it.”

Josh lifted a brow, “Its a bit late for that.”

“What?”

“I. Perfected. My. Technique,” he bit out, “We ran more tests. Injecting the serum causes the body to metabolize it too quickly, so we slowed it down by changing the route of administration. Ingesting it works much better.”

Eva crossed her arms, “I’m not taking any pills.”

That seemed to perk him up, “See, we thought about that, too. Turns out pills metabolize too slowly. We found that the best way to administer is sublingual.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” she shot back, “I’m not taking it.”

“Oh, Birdie,” he drawled, “You already have.”

Eva didn’t understand—anything. She didn’t understand why route of administration mattered, or the creepy smile on his face, or why he was looking at her like that.

Josh ran out of patience, “For as smart as you are, you are so dumb.”

“Oh, shove it up your ass!”

He set his bourbon casually on the bar and walked up to her, “It doesn’t matter what you say you will or won’t do because you’ve already done it. You’ve been drinking the serum for the last half hour.”

Eva was horrified—physically paralyzed by the feeling.

Josh grasped her shoulders, “It was diluted, but I compensated with a stronger dose. You’re already feeling the effects and you didn’t even notice.”

She was going to kill him. Beat him to death with her bare hands.

Flying forward, Eva nearly knocked Josh off his feet with the force of her attack. She might have screamed, but her ears were filled with adrenaline and the roar of blood. Eva knew she caught him off guard because she got a couple good hits in before he was able to grab her arms and push her away. She stumbled, regained her footing, and went at him again.

Josh shoved her hard enough that she knocked into the wall near the door. He slapped away her fists and curled both hands around her neck. The pressure cut off her air, but Eva had so much fury raging inside her that she started scratching and kicking. Short, blunt nails dug into his face and arms for about thirty seconds before her lungs began to burn.

It was only when she stopped fighting that he loosened his hold so that she could breathe. Eva gasped and choked until the spots in her vision cleared. Then, because she still pretty pissed off, she cast Josh a baleful glare.

“If you ever,” he punctuated the last word by slamming her head against the wall, “do that again. I’ll knock you into next week. Clear?” When she didn’t answer fast enough, he choked her again and leaned close, “Clear?”

Her nod was limited by the hands that hadn’t stopped squeezing.

“If you’re going to make me come to a meeting at this unholy hour, you should at least answer your—,” Horacio came strolling down the hall. He stopped in front of the door, “Should I come back later?”

Josh sniffed, “No. We were just having a disagreement. But, I think its cleared up now, right?”

She fucking hated that he sounded so calm, even with scratches marring his face. Eva’s jaw was clenched, but she nodded.

“See? All better.”

He let her go and Eva had to lean against the wall so that she didn’t crumple to the floor.   Smoothing his hand down his shirt, Josh invited Horacio further into the room. Dark eyes glanced at Eva, but said nothing as he passed by. Behind him, Javier was less subtle about his distaste. His curled lip had to be wiped away by a palm moving across his face.

Eva stood there for a while, listening to the pleasantries. She thought she might be able to get away with standing there all afternoon, but Josh called her name. She glared at him and he glared back.

The battle of wills was short lived, “Don’t be rude, Birdie.”

She took her time walking around the back of the couch and sitting.

“Please,” Josh said, inviting Horacio to take a seat on the opposite side of the couch Eva was currently sitting on.

Horacio sat with an easy movement. On the surface, he looked utterly undisturbed by the clear tension in the room.

Javier demurred, preferring to remain near the bar. He poured a drink for himself and settled in to observe from a distance.

Relaxing into the cushions, Horacio asked, “What do you want?”

“Right to the point,” Josh replied with a smile, “I like that.” Then, “I have another proposition for you.”

Horacio made a sound of interest and motioned with his hand for Josh to continue.

Josh leaned forward, “I’ve perfected the serum. Its ready for market.”

“I’ve heard this before.”

“I thought you might say that, so I have, once again, enlisted my lovely wife to act as a demonstration.”

Eva rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, looking anywhere but at the men in the room. She felt Horacio stare at her from two cushions over. He was quiet, possibly waiting for her to do or say something. She was too angry to give him the satisfaction.

“You must not care much for your wife’s life,” he commented, with levity. “The last demonstration went...bad.”

Josh’s laugh was like glass in her ears, “Yes. I admit I got a bit over my skis last time. But, we’ve done more tests and this batch is perfectly safe.”

More silence.

“When will we see the effects?”

During her sullen silence, the pounding in her head receded. Eva would have been grateful if another, more pressing pain wasn’t becoming apparent. Her belly cramped, tugged downwards. Her mouth went dry, her tongue felt heavy. Goosebumps appeared on her arms and chest.

She crossed her legs to relieve the discomfort of her swelling arousal. Unwelcome as it was, it only exacerbated her anger. The two feelings became entwined. They fed on one another, coiling tighter and tighter until a tremor washed over her whole body.

And, above all, she smelled him.

Tobacco. Vetiver. Alpha. Horacio.

Eva didn’t know how long she had been taking deep gulps of air, but she felt like she could taste him all the way down into her bones. She knew she wasn’t going to keep herself from him, was frustrated that she might give Josh exactly what he wanted. A soft whimper left her lips as she bent forward at the waist and buried her head in her hands.

“Is it supposed to make her cry?”

Eva lifted a hand and flipped him the bird.

His laugh made the muscles of her thighs clench together and a fresh wave of heat roll through her. Eva rocked back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, willing herself to remain still. Every instinct she had was telling her that her alpha was right there and he would take care of her. All the need swirling around in her core could be stoked to a raging storm that she knew would devour them both.

“I’d like to take a sample to test for myself,” Horacio said in a matter of fact tone.

“Of course!” Josh replied, “I have some in my safe. Let me go get that for you.”

Knowing that she had a very small window to communicate with Horacio away from her husband, Eva tracked him through the room and waited until the tell tale creak of the second stair to start talking.

“He knows about the warrant. Alexei is working to hide the evidence,” she blurted in a low voice. “There’s a woman in your building named Bobbi Lynn who has papers to get me out of the country.” Eva looked at Horacio, “I know you told me not to make moves, but you have to understand that Josh—.”

He leaned over and touched her arm, “Slow down. Are you okay?”

“No,” she rasped, “How could you think—?”

“Yes, I know,” he cut her off again with a sneer, “If I shoot him, we lose our whole case.”

Eva nodded woodenly, “He’s got someone on the inside who has been feeding him information about you. I don’t know who.”

“I know,” he repeated. Then, “Is he planning on trying to get my supplier by…”

He trailed off, but she knew what he meant.

“Yes.”

A low, rumbling growl sounded from his chest. Eva stared at him, waiting for whatever reaction she was going to get. She should have expected what came next.

“Do you remember what I said about making him regret it?”

God, but she did. Eva remembered very clearly what Horacio said he would do. Unable to form words around the anticipation that swelled in her chest, she nodded.

“Any objections?”

“Not a fucking one.”

One side of his mouth lifted. He was pleased. The thought, my Alpha is pleased, went through her head and Eva didn’t even try to fight it. She stared at him, taking in the warmth of his eyes and the plush mouth that she desperately wanted to kiss.

“We can’t kill him,” Javier intoned from the bar.

Horacio, still staring at Eva, replied, “I don’t plan to.”

“Well, I might,” Javier shot back, “He’s fucking annoying.”

Eva smirked and tossed over her shoulder, “Try living with him.”

“You’re a saint.”

The second stair creaked again.

Tearing her eyes from Horacio was difficult. She only managed it by digging her nails hard into her palm. In her periphery, she could see that Horacio wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t thinking about dragging her across the couch and into his lap.

Josh swung around the edge of the couch, all smiles, “Here we are!”

A small, air tight bottle was placed on the coffee table. It was unlabeled and looked like something she might pick up at the grocery. Not a single person outside of the four of them would ever know the danger that lay inside.

“Best to put it under the tongue,” Josh offered as he sat on the couch opposite of Horacio.

Or mixed into a drink, Eva thought venomously.

Javier pushed from the bar and walked over to pluck the bottle from the table. He pocketed it and resumed his position. A quiet, vaguely irritated, guard.

“What is your proposition?” Horacio asked, despite knowing full well what Josh wanted.

“I have enough of that serum to make about half a million dollars within the first thirty days of sale,” Josh began. “I’ll give you fifteen percent if you’ll set up a meeting between myself and the man who helps you source your raw material.”

Horacio tossed his head and laughed, “Fifteen percent is not enough for that.”

“With respect,” Josh said, “its a lot of money.”

“It will destroy my future returns. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re aiming for.”

Eva tuned out while they argued back and forth. The Lounge around her became blurry—no, it was her periphery. Eva’s eyes could only focus on a radius of about three feet. Everything else contracted down to the burn of heat and the pull of the man sitting too far away.

“I think your wife is going to have another seizure,” Javier muttered.

She realized that she was rocking back and forth, trying to get any kind of stimulation that would soothe her frazzled nerves. Her hands were twisting together, palms rubbing harshly. Every breath was audible.

“That’s normal,” Josh said with a careless wave of his hand, “between stage one and two.”

Horacio turned his attention to her, “Doesn’t look like a heat, Doctor Moore.”

Josh hummed, “It will. In a minute or two.”

It was going to get worse?

Eva already felt awash with not enough and too much sensation. Her pussy was dripping and no amount of pressure would satisfy the emptiness that wanted to be filled. Every inch of her felt fever hot. Sweat formed in the hollow of her throat and the crease of her hips.

Beside her, Horacio was dubious, “You think this is going to fool an alpha?”

Josh, ever the asshole, laughed, “I do, indeed, Mr. Jimenez.” Then, “Why don’t you go one and get a good smell of her?”

She heard Horacio suck his teeth derisively, “I can smell her from here.”

Could he?

Could he smell all the hormones races through her bloodstream? The slick coating the inside of her thighs? Could he sense the sheer force of will Eva was exerting to keep the heat at bay?

“Nah,” Josh drawled, “Get in close. I’m telling you she’ll smell like the real thing.”

Unable to help it, Eva chanced a look at Horacio. He was studying her closely. The hand on his thigh flexed and he ran his thumb up the length of his finger in thought. Eva knew the feeling of that hand. Knew what he could do with it.

She shivered.

“Either you do it, or I will,” Javier grunted.

The sound of liquor pouring was loud in the silence. Horacio took the time to cut a glance at his partner before he swiveled towards her.

“Come here,” he ordered in a low voice.

Eva obeyed. Biting her lip hard, she closed the distance between them until their knees were touching. Horacio reached out and pushed her hair back away from her neck with one hand. The other grasped her jaw to turn her head.

She flinched. Sucked in a pained breath as her body remembered Josh’s hands around her neck.

“Lo siento,” he whispered, fingers loosening to rest carefully against bruised skin.

Horacio leaned in close. She shuddered as she was surrounded by his scent, had to ground herself by wrapping her fingers around his wrist. His cheek brushed hers and heat bloomed from the contact.

Eva closed her eyes against the beginning of defeat. His inhale was deep and it was followed by an almost inaudible groan. She turned her face and pressed her cheek against his, enjoying the way the five o’ clock shadow scratched. Her mouth ran down his jaw so that she could catch his lips.

The kiss would have been fucking amazing if Josh hadn’t said, “Told you. Stage two.”

Horacio jerked away, “Its convincing.”

Convincing.

Eva scowled at him. He was far, far too calm—all smooth exterior when she was cracking apart inside. She no longer gave a fuck about giving in to Josh’s plan, not even that he was still in the room and watching the pair of them with his stupid, stupid eyes. Eva was going to even the playing field.

Quick-like, so that he didn’t have a chance to react, Eva got her feet underneath her and then she got Horacio underneath her. His body accommodated Eva, adjusting so that she could sit astride his thighs. She liked that his hands fell naturally to her hips, liked the little involuntary sound he made in that back of his throat.

“Oh, brava!” Josh crowed, “Very good, Birdie.”

She ignored him, focusing on running her hands up Horacio’s chest. Wrist rotating, she caught the chain that constantly hung around his neck and used it to tug him forward. Eyes unfocused, Horacio let her guide him until they were about an inch apart. He was struggling to control his breathing and his scent had sharpened with arousal. If she worked her hips forward, Eva knew he would be hard for her.

“You know what?” Josh cut in, “I’ll sweeten the deal. You set up the meeting and I’ll give you fifteen percent and you can have whatever you want from her.”

What about what she wanted?

The fog in Horacio’s eyes cleared and was replaced with first anger and then cool calculation. He applied a little pressure to her side so that he could look past her. Eva curled her hands over his shoulders and shifted her weight.

“I’m not giving you the name of my supplier.”

Josh scoffed, “Any other alpha would be champing at the bit to knot an omega.”

Horacio shrugged, “Right now, I don’t think I would need your permission to fuck your wife.”

As he spoke, his hands caressed down her thighs and back up again. They slipped beneath the hem of her dress until it caught on his wrists.

“You do if you want to leave this house alive.”

The hammer of a revolver was pulled back.

Horacio’s hands flexed, but he remained still, “I think you’ll find that my friend over there disagrees.”

She didn’t have to look to know that Javier was pointing a gun at Josh. Besides, Eva was more focused on rubbing her thumb over the swollen gland behind Horacio’s ear. It throbbed at her touch, letting her know how much he was holding back.

“Looks like we have a real life Mexican stand-off.”

Did he have to sound so God damned pleased?

Annoyed, Eva leaned forward and laved her tongue over Horacio’s gland. She moaned at the taste of a man soaking in arousal and fighting it tooth and nail. Lips wrapped around it, Eva sucked at the soft, inflamed skin.  

Horacio’s big body shuddered. One arm wrapped around her waist and secured Eva to his chest. The other remained where it was, fingernails digging into her thigh.

“You’re not brave enough to pull the trigger,” he managed around a choked groan.

A shift of fabric against fabric, “I guess we’ll both find out.”

Eva was squished against Horacio’s chest, which was fine—except she didn’t have a lot of room to move. Which she very much wanted to do. His hips were pressed hard against her—and, she was fucking right. Eva wiggled against the hard on trapped behind the fly of his jeans, trying to get a little more pressure on her aching clit.

“I’ll take thirty percent,” Horacio rasped, “and whatever the fuck I want from her. Deal?”

A beat of silence, then, “You’ll set up the meeting?” When Horacio nodded, Josh released the hammer on the revolver. “Thirty percent, then.”

“And?” Horacio drawled, with meaning.

“Do whatever you want to her.”

The muscles in Horacio’s body tightened and his chest vibrated with a dangerous purr. Eva let him guide her so that she sat, upright, in his lap. His thumb swiped across her bottom lip and she caught it between her teeth. He pushed it forward and laid it across her tongue.

Horacio leaned forward to speak over her shoulder, “I told you I would make you regret it.”

Eva barely comprehended what he was saying before Horacio pulled his thumb from her mouth with a wet pop. He held her in a firm grip and, without any further warning, sank blunt teeth into her gland.

There was a lot of screaming.

Josh screamed in rage. Javier in warning.

Eva…

Eva screamed in white hot pleasure. The orgasm that rocketed through her was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It scored her from the inside, out, leaving devastation in its wake. She was incoherent, writhing helplessly against her alpha while he growled against her neck. Her cunt clenched on empty space, wanting nothing more than to sink down onto a knot.

Euphoric and punch-drunk, Eva collapsed into Horacio’s arms. He cradled her close, held almost all of her weight aloft. Already his scent was changing, taking on little bits of her own. From now until her next heat, Eva would smell like him, too. She didn’t mind it at all.

“I’m going to kindly ask you to leave my house.”

Horacio was breathing hard. He wasn’t moving.

From close by, Javier said, “Its time to go, Diego.” Then, “We’ll be expecting our thirty percent.”

Eva was barely conscious while Horacio gently placed her onto the couch cushions. She whined at the loss, but was too weak to make any attempt to draw him back.

Syncopated footsteps moved away from her.

She curled in on herself as her body cooled. Shivered. Eva knew she wasn’t going to move from that spot for a long time. She rested with the scent of Horacio permanently etched into her skin.

[javelinbk]

twenty questions for fic writers

Thank you @scurator for tagging me! Let’s not compare stats, eh?

How many works do you have on ao3?

22 total, 21 J/P

What's your total ao3 word count?

367,138

What fandoms do you write for?

Just The Beatles!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Brother Dearest

2. Stop all the clocks

3. The Life of Riley

4. Take a sad song, and make it better

5. Double Fantasy

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! It’s always polite to say thank you, and a comment to me is a gift. That reminds me, I still need to reply to the last few comments on LoR.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Songs We Were Singing has the angstiest moments, but the ending itself is one of the schmaltziest I’ve done. Get a job, cop is probably the only one I’ve done that doesn’t have a happy ending, although I tried to make it more bittersweet than miserable. And it’s still happier than what happened in real life!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Take a sad song and make it better, where they [spoiler] end up sharing a love nest/shag pad in Scotland, go back to writing together, and raise their blended family together, and then finally get married in their sixties. What more could you want?

Do you get hate on fics?

No, generally people are lovely, but there were some weird fact-checkers on Brother Dearest for some reason - one who incorrectly tried to tell me I’d got their ages wrong (like I hadn’t checked it!) and someone who was put out that I didn’t include Ken Brown at the Casbah. Oh, and I got the bog-standard message from occasional troll Vee, but that just made me feel like I’d finally arrived in the fandom!

Do you write smut?

Reluctantly, yes, but normally only if it’s part of the plot.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. There was a fic that came out just after Stop all the clocks that had a lot of similarities to certain parts (and I know the author read mine), but they were the types of things you wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t as familiar with it as I was, so I don’t even know if the author realised they were doing it. But people who cry ‘plagiarism!’ generally bug me, especially because we see so many of the same ideas come round all the time in this fandom. And I’ve only been around for 2 years, so I know nothing.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not until recently, but someone has just started translating The Life of Riley into Russian! I think they might be doing Double Fantasy too. Hit up @pinksodaaa if you want to know more

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I tried doing a group fic once, but there were too many cooks, and I’m not really sure how the ‘writing’ part works, especially when you only have contact online. I love chatting with friends about fic though, and would definitely be up for collaborating one day. By which I mean I shout out plot ideas and they write the damn thing.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I guess I’ll have to say J/P because this is the one I’ve got most heavily involved in, but faves back in the day were Lois & Clark and Father Peter & Assumpta. I guess I’m a sucker for ships involving self-sacrifice for a greater good.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don’t really have any, although I have snippets that I’m not sure will ever go anywhere. I have half an idea for one set during Anthology, but I’m not sure if there’s enough of a story there. And I once wrote a short BYBANG sequel for @scurator, but I’m not sure I’ll ever let that see the light of day.

What are your writing strengths?

Err, dunno. I’ve written a few multi-chapter plot-based fics now, so I guess those are my speciality. And I like making my soundtrack playlists, but I don’t know if anyone else is that bothered about them (I know that’s not really writing, but it’s part of the whole creative process for me).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, boy, too many to list. Relying too much on gestures and body language. Writing straightforward dialogue without showing what people are feeling. Using the same words and ideas over and over again.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I can’t say I’ve really thought about it. I can’t speak any other languages other than a bit of basic German, so I doubt I’ll be doing it any time soon.

First fandom you wrote for?

First posted was for Sanditon (a period drama that had a terrible ending that needed to be fixed), but at school my friend and I used to write self-insert John (me) and George (her) fics (and by ‘write’ I literally mean we’d write them out on paper)

Favorite fic you've written?

I love all my children in different ways! I probably like the world of Double Fantasy the most, although I don’t think that fic is particularly well written. Tres bien ensemble is always a fave, because that one just appeared fully formed in my head one day. And I do like the ‘enemies’ part of Brother Dearest. RIP, McHarrison, we hardly knew you.

Tagging @zilabee @beatlessideblog and @eveepe if you fancy it

[therecordchanger62279]

Excerpt from my unpublished novel:

     The noise from the next boat kept me up half the night. The redhead, and her senior boyfriend must’ve had a helluva party. I think it finally broke up about 5 a.m., and I must’ve finally gotten to sleep shortly after. I slept past noon, and woke up tired anyway. I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning, and scrubbing the boat, getting her ready to….to stay docked, I guess. I wasn’t planning a trip. It was just busy work. I was spending most nights on the boat these days, and I like that just fine – until the neighbors get too loud. I could’ve gone to Kate’s, but that could’ve been worse. I was getting tired of her moods. It was nice to have a hiding place.

     I quit working about 7, and decided I’d go down to the 3.14, and get a sandwich, and a beer. I stepped off the boat, and heard my name. “Joe! Hey, Joe!” It was Steve, Dan’s son.

     “Where you been? Haven’t seen you lately.”

     “Aw, I’ve been on the boat, mostly workin’ down below, tryin’ to get organized. I’ll be spending more time on it now.”

     “Weren’t you seein’ that waitress…Kate? Was that her name?”

     “Yeah, I was. I mean, I guess I still am, but things have been a little chilly lately, so I’ve been sleepin’ here.”

     “Where you headin’?”

     “Down to the 3.14 for a sandwich, and a beer. Want to join me?”

     ���Sure. Sounds good.”

     We took my car, and being a Wednesday evening, the place wasn’t too crowded. We sat at the bar, The barmaid took our order, and we sipped our beers, and munched on peanuts until she brought the burgers out. We talked about Dan, Steve’s dad, and I shared a few stories with him about our “glory days.” When that topic was covered, Steve asked again about Kate.

     “So, you’re still seeing Kate…sort of?”

     “Yeah, I guess. That woman has a mean temper, and a hair trigger, too. That’s not a good combination. I like things quiet. No drama. But, it’s always something with her. When it’s good, it’s really good, but lately…”

      “I thought maybe you found a second wife, the way things were goin’?”

     “Oh, no. Definitely not. What’s the line from that song? I ain’t ready for the altar, but I do agree there’s times when a woman sure can be a friend of mine. That’s all I need is a friend. I did marriage once. Once was enough.”

     “Sounds like the first time ‘round left a few scars?”

     “Yeah, but they’ve all healed. But I don’t have a taste for it anymore. And I don’t have the temperament. Age makes you a lot less tolerant, and tolerance is something every marriage has to have. I should stop eating out, though.”

     “Why do you say that?”

     “I have a real weakness for waitresses.”

     Steve smiled, nodded, and then asked, “Any luck with the job search?”

     “Not so far. I can always sit for a while, and try to write another book – if the neighbors keep the noise down, that is. If I’m careful, I’ve got enough to keep me for a few months, at least.

     “Noise? What noise?”

     “That old guy on the next boat has got a very young girlfriend that likes to socialize into the wee hours. They kept me up past 5 this morning.”      “Do you want me to have a word with him?”

     “No, it’s fine. It’s not every night. Just now and again.”

     “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. How young is she?”

     “She’s not a day over 22, if I had to guess.”

     “Really? He must be getting some revenge on his wife.”      “Wife? He’s married?”

     “Oh, yeah. But she never comes to the boat. He told me she hates the water. I think he bought the boat to get away from her.”

     “Well, I guess I can’t hold that against him.”

     Steve chuckled, and just then I saw the redhead walk through the door with a much younger guy in hand. “If you want to see why he stays up so late, she just walked in,” and I nodded toward the door.

     “Wow! That’s her? You weren’t kidding. She could be his granddaughter.”

     “Trust me. She’s definitely not. But it looks like they’re not exactly going steady. She’s hanging all over this one, too. How can she look that good with no more sleep than I had?”

     “Like you said, not a day over 22.”

© 2024

[chriscdcase95]

My thoughts on “Teen Wolf: The Movie”.

So I watched the new Teen Wolf movie. Ultimately. I'm giving it a six out of ten. While there was more I liked about the movie than disliked, I had quite a few  gripes.  

I didn't see it as horrendous as a lot of fans say it is, but there are a few valid critiques I've seen. Maybe I'm just easy to please.

I think some of the issues could have been fixed if there wasn't such a big time skip; like instead of fifteen years, five years. Maybe instead of raising a teenager, Derek would be raising a toddler. Though I don't think we'd get the same kind of story for Eli that way, especially for this generations teen wolf. 

Spoilers below.

1. So I got into Teen Wolf back in high school, and I remember being a die hard Scallison stan back then too. I'm not as big of a Scallison as I was back then, but I am glad to see them be endgame, if it wasn't for one small thing.

My main question is if Allison aged a bit after her resurrection ? Like is she still considered a teenager or is she considered a young adult now ? I feel like this is a nitpick, but some In-Universe clarification would be nice! Feels like something the writers overlooked.  

Then again, werewolves are slow to age in the show's lore, so I guess you can apply "Vampire Rules" to these kind of romances. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I mean the show used to tease Parrish and Lydia, in season four; back when she was a teenager, and he was in his 20's. As if over half the fandom wasn’t shipping Sterek.

Actually, while I was working on this post, I read that Allison was eighteen when she died, so that's...better I guess.

2. Speaking of Parrish, his and Malia's relationship...I'm okay with it, more so than Scott and Malia. I mean they didn't do much with either pairing. Maybe that's the Malira shipper in me talking.

With Scalia, it felt like they just slapped them together because Scott needed a love interest for the final season. You could make the argument that a lot has happened over fifteen years that we didn't see.

With Malia and Parish, it feels like there's a whole ass story we didn't see, but y'know, show, don't tell. 

3. While I'm on that, the movie leaves a lot open ended, that it felt like it was setting up a follow up. This is were most of my problems come from. I was thinking maybe it would tie into Wolf Pack, but I've been hearing that the show isn't meant to be a direct spinoff (or even the same universe) as Teen Wolf. 

One thing I'd like an explanation of is Eli's mother, which again feels like they're saving for a follow up. Speaking of Eli, he became an instant favorite of mine, and someone I wouldn't mind seeing again.

Also, the cursing and nudity in this movie, I'm not saying it's out of place, and far from being prudish. I like that they’re being more risqué, but I’m also glad they didn't go too overboard with it. Still,  “Darkness, you motherfucker” absolutely killed me!

Another gripe I had was that Kira didn't return. Like this is a story where kitsune are front and center, and one of the antagonists is a monster her mother helped bring into the world. 

You’re seriously telling me she’s not up for another round ?

We're introduced to a new Kitsune, Hikari, who I have nothing against, but it really feels like Kira could have (should have) filled her spot. Especially since Hikari didn't have a proper introduction for a new player. "Oh, Liam has a new girlfriend who's a kitsune ? Welcome to the team I guess."

4. The villains...here's where I have more of an issue. So the Nogitsune makes a comeback. Which is fine; I saw that coming as far back as the trailers. 

But the movie's other Big Bad is Adrian Harris, with no explanation for his survival. I mean sure, a slashed throat/strangulation is an injury you can survive, but the chances are often slim.

I could have easily bought this Big Bad Duumvirate, if there wasn't something that stuck out; Stiles wasn't there. 

I can accept that Stiles isn't part of the story. I can accept Stydia splitting up (albeit begrudgingly). But Stiles was the Nogitsune’s primary tormenting victim, and the one Harris had the most beef with. You telling me he wasn't on their radar ?!

You're telling me that even if Harris survived or came back, the first thing he wouldn't do was try to access the speed force and pull some Eobard Thawne buffoonery on Stiles ? 

Get out of town!

Anyways, the Nogitsune was a serviceable villain, but I feel like Harris could have been replaced with another past antagonist. Say Tamara Monroe, considering she was the series cliffhanger villain, and as of this movie her arc's unresolved. They probably wouldn't have been able to pull any kind of twist with her, but she at least would fit more. 

Hell, even Theo Raeken would have been more fitting; the guy such has a proud history of subverting whatever redeeming qualities thrown his way, I still have a hard time buying his “redemption” at the end of the series. Actually, it wasn't even a redemption, it was just the one genuine Pet the Dog moment the guy actually had.

Anyways, Harris probably would have been a better fit in a story that had Stiles in it.

5. Not gonna lie, Derek's death was something sorta I saw coming.

What I mean is, I certainly saw someone in the main cast was gonna die. That's like an unspoken rule in “Next Generation” sequels. But I thought it would be someone else. If not Derek, it would be one of the parents.

Who'd I'd probably have die instead would be Chris Argent. I mean if you're gonna bring back his daughter, you'd think one consequence would be that Chris would die in her place.

Derek's death, I'm more mixed on, but ultimately accept. I would have preferred if Chris was the one with the heroic sacrifice. I still think it would be a more fitting end than Derek’s.

I heard some complaints that Scott and Allison pretty much adopted Eli, but I didn't see it that way. When Scott and Eli interacted, I got more of an uncle/nephew vibe than any father/son thing. 

The way I see it, Eli just has a large support system following his father's death; a support system that just now includes Scott and Alison. And let's be honest, there's no way and hell Derek is gonna let Peter raise him.

I've been told this was intended to be the start of a trilogy, so if we get sequels, hopefully they'll fill us in on what we missed.

[userlando]

I’d love to hear more about your tattoos if it’s not too personal? Another anon currently saving and booking tattoos like a maniac lol 6 down and plenty more to go. I can just imagine that yours are super cool from how well your personality comes across here

Also one of the anons (I’d love to maybe start going by ��� if that isn’t taken, I’ve been leaving asks for ages but ready for an emoji now lol) that was talking about landos reaction to you getting a lil personal tattoo in homage to your friendship

Imagine he comes back for summer break and you guys are going to festivals together with a few other friends for him to take all the cool pics, you’ve got a more revealing outfit on than normal and he notices a little 4 on your hip or your ribs and suddenly his ears are roaring and he can feel his heart in his throat just POUNDING and he’s even tearing up a lil because he knows how special you are to him (even tho he’s been repressing his feels FOREVER) and he’s panicking because does this mean you feel the same or does this mean he can never tell you how he actually feels because this friendship is too much to put at stake?!

And for the rest of summer break whether you’re hanging out with friends in the sun somewhere hot he still finds a way to have his arm around you resting near the tattoo spot (he’s thought of nothing else since). Maybe one night you’re round a fire pit after a family barbecue and it’s a bit chilly so you end up getting all close and cosy under guise of sharing warmth but suddenly he’s got goosebumps (so aware of how close you’re snuggled into his side and how flushed your cheeks are from the drinks and enjoying time spent with friends, but also you’re so ticklish and so his touch makes you squirm closer into his lap making him grunt slightly and try to think about anything else than you wriggling so close to his growing semi, making a panicked excuse and leaving you outing, cold and a bit confused as you then fall into conversation with his mum who offers you a knowing sympathetic smile

Another time you guys are maybe round a pool or on a yacht and you’ve disappeared with a few girl friends to top up your tan but lando is pestering you to stay hydrated and reapply suncream constantly sneaking glances under his mirrored sunnies. Maybe the girls finally get the memo and leave you alone and you guys end up limbs everywhere talking and laughing when suddenly his brain stops remembering to hold everything in and he traces his fingers over the small delicate number softly asking if its a reference to him/what he thinks and when you scoff and roll your eyes poking him with your toes (which normally he would playfully feign disgust at but he’s too caught up) he just gets really silent and serious (which you find unsettling after a whole day of water fights and pushing eachother in the sea) taking a really deep breath and asking you not to freak out or interrupt him as he tells you how much you and your friendship means to him and how appreciative he is that he gets to spend time around you but that he can’t pretend he doesn’t want to be more than that to you, playing with his beautiful hands which steal your attention, not brave enough to look at him because you know you’ll break out into a grin and that he needs time to say his piece. Once he’s done his shaky little breaths as you play with his hands, telling him that you wanted to symbolise how proud you are what he’s achieved and how talented he is and how much you appreciate the friendship you’ve been able to maintain but that you also just want him in your life forever in every capacity and it’s just so soft and emotional omg

And the next time you see him after a race he has digit the same size and font just inside his elbow except he has the age you guys met at with a tiny heart and he asks you to think about going public (even tho the WHOLE grid already can read you guys like a book and the fans have never bought that you guys were only friends). Imagine a soft launch of a really artsy pic he took of your matchy ink on the gram oooooomg

I’m so sorry this turned into the longest ask I’ve probs ever left anyone I hope it’s not overwhelming or too much and that you’ve had the most amazing weekend! I really love the vibes on your page and check it literally every single day 🩷🩷

that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever read!! thank you 🥹 I’ve got a whole lot of them, they’re all super random but they have a lot of meaning to me. they mostly reference songs, bands and movies that I like. I did a big wednesday piece on my shin that I love, and I’m planning to do a big enough piece to cover the remaining space on my left arm but not sure yet what to do!! tattoos are the best, I’d love to know which one of yours is your favourite if you don’t mind me asking? 🥰

ohh my god I can just imagine him in absolute turmoil, overthinking what it means for you to tattoo his number on you because it must mean more, right? but what if it doesn’t and he’s just getting his hopes up?

jesus h christ you’re trying to kill me here I’m so fucking soft for this!!! lando not having the courage to look at you as he spills his guts, his mum knowing that you both have feelings for each other because it’s so obvious but you’re too dumb to realise it. soft launch with a picture of the tattoos! I’m bawling at this, imagine the fans being like oh please, we saw this coming a mile awaaayyy.

I love love love this so much, thank you so much for sending it in. it was a nice reprieve after a stressful few days!! I’ll literally be thinking of this for the next week 😭😭😭🫶🏼

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I was wondering if you’d come across any fics that deal with the idea of Hell being able to talk to Crowley through his electronics or directly in his mind? I know that I’ve seen a couple of them, but I haven’t had a chance to read them! (thank you, if you do know some!)

Hello. Here are some fics which feature Hell’s communication methods...

Myself With You by fractalgeometry (T)

It was the kind of night that Crowley liked to savor, committing every little detail to memory so that he could return and go over it all again on days when he wasn’t so lucky, wasn’t meandering around London with Aziraphale with everything seeming right with the world.

Of course, he’d later think bitterly, that would be when Hell would come up with their first specific assignment in twenty years. Awful timing, perfectly on-brand.

The Ludicrous and Many Disasters of Mister A. Z. Fell, Houseplant by souljelly (T)

Aziraphale tries to change his corporation and ends up as a houseplant. Crowley whisks him away to be potted, cared for, and screamed at properly at his flat. Aziraphale makes some unexpected new friends.

I Could Drink A Case Of You by wraithwitch (M)

"The upper echelons of Hell go in for periodic torture sessions against demons who’ve displeased them. It’s all par for the course in a place that sees the removal of fingernails more as a practical joke than actual torture..."

dearly departed by attheborder (T)

Finally, Aziraphale spoke. “You mean to say— you got us married?”

“Just as a precaution, I never really thought I’d end up discorporated again, it’d been ages, you just don’t get stampedes or assassinations like you used to —”

“You got us married, and you didn’t tell me?”

***

Crowley gets inconveniently discorporated. And it’s not like it’s ever been easy to get a new body, but this time around, things really aren’t looking good. His new innuendo-obsessed lust-demon of a coworker honestly isn’t helping things.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale has a dead body to contend with, and an occult mortician & his very normal daughter to fend off. What lengths will he go to in order to get Crowley back to Earth?

With you, with me by NohaIjiachi (T)

“Oh, shit,” Crowley muttered, but it came out more like ‘ohkjfd—‘

The man— A bloody priest was still keeping his umbrella over Crowley. The fabric of his button-up had darkened on his shoulders, now throughly drenched.

He could see more details, now, and Crowley stared. The priest had round, gentle features, and a shock of hair so blond it looked white collected in messy, soft curls. There was some sense of deep-sedated sadness in his grey-blue eyes, as he looked down at Crowley.

“I’d imagine that you need to get back up on your feet, then, son,” the priest said, sounding somehow tired. “You can’t stay here.”

“…I have nowhere to go,” Crowley replied, feeling like his tongue was double in size in his mouth. It was a lie, and wasn’t one at the same time.

He could technically go anywhere he wanted, as long as the Bentley stopped pouting at him for getting high again, but he had nowhere to go.

Wednesday by Raphaela_Crowley (T)

After a bizarre confrontation with Hastur and one really bad cup of tea, Crowley finds himself in an alternate universe wherein he's back to being the archangel Raphael, there's no Arrangement, and Aziraphale is actively trying to discorporate him.

The worst part?

Every time Aziraphale succeeds in offing him, and "Raphael" is returned to earth with a new body, the day resets. It's always the same doomed Wednesday, over and over and over again.

Getting into this time-loop was an accident; getting out and back home again (if Crowley ever manages it) will have to be something entirely else.

- Mod D