#On one hand we'd like people to take a look at these positions

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

[Part 2] | [Part 4] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey love! Can we order Profiteroles & pull apart bread with a side of tonic water for Danny ric? 🍯🦡

bakery menu

bakery items are still being made! orders coming out every day! please check out what i have to offer! i'd love for you to place an order with me! and thank you to this lovely anon for their order! danny ric with an age gap, my, my, my! i hope you love it!

profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + pull apart bread ("i love you") + tonic water (age gap) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), uni student!reader, tender sex, dorm room sex, cowgirl position

daniel loved the scent of warm vanilla. there was something about it that was familiar. many things held the scent, but sometimes it curled up into his brain and made itself home in there. he could bury himself in it for days in end. better than the sweat and grime of racing.

he knew the woman he was meant to love would smell familiar, like warm vanilla.

so when you were walking down the street on a warm summer's day as you headed to class, the scent of the body wash you used, warm vanilla, caught to his brain. and before he knew it, he was catching up to you.

now six months later, you were in a relationship with daniel ricciardo, one of the top formula one drivers. currently it was the lead up to the grand prix in austin, leaving a small month break for daniel to come and see you while you were in school.

while your dorm at your university was small, the two of you made due for the time you were there. daniel had every expectation to take you away to his hotel and get you out of this crappy dorm. you deserved something finer, but you were stubborn and wanted to work for everything.

it wad hard to have your older boyfriend spoil you when you were so stubborn, but for now he'd simply have to make due with being on the small bed in your dorm room.

daniel was curled up behind you while you watched a movie on your laptop. he was spooning you and taking in the scent of your skin. you felt so good in his arms, and of course, smelling like warm vanilla. it was a feeling of comfort. and it also excited daniel, he shifted his hips a little bit to get the feeling of you against him. his cock somewhat erect in his jeans. he had missed you the weeks he was gone, he wanted to be there for your first day back to campus, but instead he was quite far away. so he was going to savour every moment with you he can get his hands on.

he continued to get his legs tangled up in yours. you giggled a little and looked over behind your shoulder. he took this as a chance to place a kiss on your forehead. "i really missed you." he said, "i wondered how your first day back went."

you turned in his arms and placed one of your arms over him, you leaned in for a kiss on the lips as you asked, "you weren't worried about other guys talking to me?"

"no, no." he was, "of course not." he was lying. until you got back to your dorm, he worried about any male classmates getting too familiar. that you wearing a sweatshirt of his (with his name on it) was going to be mistaken as you being a fan rather than his girlfriend.

he trusted you, he even trusted your male friends. he didn't trust men he didn't know. men were creeps on university campuses, he didn't need you getting hurt. he kissed your face a little more and melted further into you. he asked, "so how sturdy do you think this bed is?" then winked at you.

you grabbed him by the cheeks and moved his head around, "oh my god, you perv." before kissing him again. you felt herself close to him and it didn't help that your boyfriend was so hot it was painful for you at times. that he looked good in a sweatshirt (with your school's logo on it) and jeans that fit just right.

"i'm just asking, i don't think we'd be the first people to do it on this thing." he patted the mattress you were both on. even though it covered in soft purple sheets and there were string lights across the top of the headboard, it still was a dorm mattress, "besides." he said as he held you closer, your legs tangled in his, "i'd love to get out of these jeans."

you kissed him once more, the movie soon forgotten. you giggled against his lips then pulled away, "i swear, danny."

he broke into a grin and took you by the hips. he placed you on top of his clothed lap and let you straddle his waist. he asked, "what? what do you swear?"

you cupped his face, his facial hair under your fingertips, "i swear you're going to kill me one day."

he leaned into your touch as you straddled him. it felt nice being closed to you, even with all the layers of clothes, "i don't want you dead, beautiful. i love you too much. i love you." he said as he gazed into your eyes, his words dripping with sincerity. you knew he loved you, he wouldn't be to eager to see you or move you into a better place than this if he didn't. you heard horror stories about women your age and men, so you were thankful.

you smiled back at him and started to get his sweatshirt off. it was then followed by his shirt and then he worked on the belt of your pants. he started to undress you as well, pushing your clothes off your body with those big paws he called hands. he exposed more of your beautiful body to him. he licked his lips.

with a little work and some moving around, you two got naked in bed together. daniel's gaze lingered on you as he groped your plush thighs. but, before he could get on top of you. you got on top of him.

you were the younger one, but you weren't a baby. you felt his cock press up against you, but not quite slip in. you rubbed your pussy against him a little and watched him shudder.

the famed driver reduced to heavy pants as you slipped yourself onto his cock. he tensed up and held onto the soft covers you owned. he watched your breasts bounce as you leaned back and held onto his legs to work yourself onto his cock. the arch your back and the hardness of your nipples almost made him finish then and there.

you were beautiful. and he vocalized that, "you are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. nothing is more beautiful than you. fuck, not even the cars on the track are as beautiful as you" he soon held onto your soft hips and bullied his cock as far it would go.

you giggled a little and gripped his legs tightly. his cock hit the farthest parts of you. it felt good and made you toes curl, "its' good to know that i'm hotter than a piece of machinery."

he rubbed his face for a moment and laughed, "you know what i mean. you run my engine, baby. more than any car." he then gripped your hips once more and continued to hit up against your sweetest spots. you felt amazing in his honest opinion.

while rationally he loved your personality. he loved the late night phone calls, even when you two watched trashy television. he loved when you were happy and when you were grumpy. but a primal throb in his head loved that he was your older protector. and that you were simply just so perfect for him.

and he loved when you smelled like warm sugar. a scent that was fading and replaced the smell of sex. your bodies moving together. and in a small fairness, the smell of sex on you got him equally as hard. to know that you were fucked out by him.

"fuck." you shuddered as you thrusts continued. you worked himself onto his cock and felt the fire in your belly. your hands across his hairy chest as you moved. you could feel the sweat on the back of your neck as you moved.

"my beautiful girl." he said. he was a bit older than you, and a lot stronger. but he loved seeing his beautiful girlfriend on top. he moved against you further. he watched your pace become quicker and the noises get louder.

you wouldn't have to worry about a noise complaint if you moved into the flat he picked out for you. his hands dug further into your hips as his cock kissed your softest insides. you felt like a dream and it made his head swim.

his mouth hung open in heavy pants as you two moved together. it was heaven, it was euphoria, it was a rush to the system and soon daniel finished inside of you with an arch of his back off the bed. his fingers dug into the soft hips of his younger girlfriend.

you only grabbed onto his shoulders before better leverage as you moved quicker. your cunt was soaked and your toes curled as you finished around his still hard cock. you panted heavily and bit your bottom lip when a moan almost came out. your heart hammered in your chest and your head swam.

you slowed to a stop and felt your boyfriend's cock still buried in you. you panted heavily, gulping for air from the rush to the system. eventually you just dropped on top of him. your laptop still played the movie, creating a poorly themed soundtrack to your fucking.

but it was alright. daniel honestly wasn't paying attention, too wrapped up in your warmth to keep his focus on anything else. your cunt was a drug that he could get hooked on if he wasn't careful.

but then again, when had daniel ricciardo ever been careful.

there was a knock on the other side of the wall and the words, "keep it down in there!" were heard and your eyes went wide.

you lifted your head quickly and said, "sorry!" before daniel pushed you back down to his fuzzy chest. he held you and kissed the top of your head lovingly.

"see, wouldn't have to deal with that if you moved in that place i picked out." he said, trying to nudge the idea further into your head.

you giggled as you moved to get off of daniel's cock. you kissed his face and said, "i'd rather we get a home together when i graduate. maybe a dog too."

he broke into a smile, it was only another two semesters before that became a reality. he tangled himself up in you and kissed at your beautiful face. he held you in his arms for a moment before he asked, "should i rewind the movie?"

and you looked at him and replied, "how about you put it to the side so we have a little more room. we were apart too long, ricciardo... i want to feel all of my boyfriend."

and who was daniel to deny his beloved girlfriend anything. <3

[recklesssturniolo]

Live - M.S

cockwarming, based on req, dom!Matt, reader & him are dating

A/N: not too sure how I feel about this one but

NSFW below, leave if you're a minor

"Baby you know I have to stream" Matt says at my attempt to make a move by kissing up his neck.

"Mmm they can wait a bit longer" I mumble, moving my hand down to the growing bulge in his pants and palming him.

Matt and I had been dating for a while now, and although the fans had themselves came to the conclusion we were, we'd never confirmed it directly.

"You're just gonna have to wait" He says, shifting me slightly from my straddling position on his lap and turning me to face the camera.

As he starts setting up his stream, I move to my knees below the desk, a groan leaving his mouth as he watched me do so. Continuing to palm him through his pants, pulling his pants and boxers down just slightly and beginning to stroke him.

"Fucking hell" He mumbles.

Swiping my tongue from his base to the tip, and circling it around his tip before taking all of his dick into my mouth, he lets out another groan but pulls me up from under the desk.

"I said you're gonna need to wait" He says, looking directly into my eyes.

Smirking at him, I turn around and remove my shorts and pull my panties to the side.

"I - what are you doing" He asks.

"Nothing Matty, just set up the stream" I reply.

Slowly I angle myself above his dick before lowering myself onto him. A whimper leaving his mouth as I fully sat.

"Start" I practically demand.

"I'm fucking fully inside of you and you're wanting me to start the stream?" He questions.

Ignoring him, I start the stream myself, making sure to keep my expression normal as it started.

Viewers immediately flow in, Matt letting out a cough before finally speaking.

"Uh - sorry hey guys! As promised I'm gonna stream some Fortnite for you all today" He smiles.

"And I'm here to simply commentate" I laugh out.

I see in the small mirrored video of us in the corner of the PC Matt roll his eyes. He begins playing, both of us making comments and laughing at the fans comments as he did. I move my hands to his thighs and push myself up every so slightly, moving myself up his dick before lowering myself back down - as he was mid-sentence. A low groan falls from his lips that he immediately covers up with a cough while I had to hide the smirk wanting to form on my face.

"Jesus fuck Matt you are sucking so badly right now" I smile.

"Yeah well maybe if - uh if you weren't distracting me with your stupid comments I could play better" He replies, knowing he almost just outted us.

He focuses back on the game, his hands gripping the controller tightly as I rocked myself back and forth acting as if I was repositioning myself, seeing him bite the inside of his cheek, but my eyes widen as he slams controller on the table.

“Sorry guys Chris just texted me something and it’s urgent so I’m gonna have to end the stream early” Matt said before quickly ending the stream, shutting everything off.

“You think you’re funny eh? Egging me on with thousands of people watching?” He says.

I shrug my shoulders in response, not knowing what exactly to respond with. Before I realize it, Matt’s lifted me up and practically thrown me onto the bed.

“Matt” I whine, my need for him only having grown throughout his stream. My pussy now throbbing.

“So fucking needy” He growls.

He spreads open my legs, slipping my panties to the side - not even bothering to take the time to remove them and lines himself up with me and without another word slams himself into me, a whimper leaving my mouth as he stretched me out.

“Take it. You’ve been begging for it, don’t act like you can’t handle it now” He groans, his hands tightening around my hips.

“Fuck feels so good” I moan, as his thrusts speed up.

He removes his hands from my hips and uses them to grab my arms and pin them above my head, his face inches away from mine now.

“This what you wanted? Me treating you like the whore you are?” He asks, his voice raspy as he continues slamming into me.

“I - yes oh my god” I stutter as I feel my climax starting to creep up on me, my eyes squeezing shut as I feel him hit my g-spot.

“Open your eyes. I want to see your pretty face while I fuck you” He groans.

I do as he says, whimpers flowing from my mouth the closer my climax gets. My head tilting back and my back arching as Matt continues, and smirks as he watches me beneath him.

“I know you’re about to come, let it go then, you’ve been fucking waiting for it. Show me how good I make you feel” He groans, himself close as well.

My legs wrap around him in an attempt to get him to be even deeper inside me, my moans filling the room as I come. My body shakes slightly as it takes over me, the sensation I’s been yearning for all day.

“So fucking pretty coming for me” Matt groans, his forehead resting on mine, “Keep your legs like that I’m about to come”

I struggle to keep my legs wrapped around him as my high dies down, but watch as he releases himself inside of me. His grip around my wrists tightening as he did, and his breathing heavy.

Slowing his pace and dropping his head into the crook of my neck, silence takes over as we both lay there, both of our breathing beginning to return to normal.

“If I see one fan comment about how you or I acted on that stream, so help me god you won’t be able to walk properly for a week” He mumbles.

“Mm but I got what I wanted in the end didn’t I? Seems like a win win situation for me” I laugh.

“Yeah keep laughing, you won’t be when you’re limping everywhere”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt @sturniolosreads

[frownyalfred]

Do you think new league members ever get surprised by the built-in nepotism? Like Bruce being who he is like codified rules of hero title succession (like Dick taking Bruce's place as Batman and with it, all his founder status) or the Flash being a titled with a long history of being passed down. I mean, Bruce is even planning on Dick inherenting the league to become it's leader.

Do you think new members look at the member handbook, in the students, apprenticeship, partnerships, and sidekicks, and go "huh. That seems kinda... rigged??". Because honestly? If you're great, sure you can gain a lot of respect and power in the league but you'll never gain more power (from admin power to social power to beyond) then the founding members and founding membership can be inherited.

It's an interesting question. I can't speak to the canon responses very much, but I imagine it has a lot to do with people respecting the hell out of Dick Grayson/Nightwing and knowing he truly is the best leader to inherit Bruce's role. Batman's motivations in assigning that role to Dick isn't for some personal benefit, or a continued stake he wants to maintain in the League. He's not giving the position to Dick, essentially, to benefit himself or Dick -- he's giving it to Dick because he truly believes Dick is the best person to pick up the cowl after him. If he wasn't, I don't think we'd see Bruce handing off the League and Batman to someone who wasn't ready or wouldn't ever be ready.

I will also note that this 180 on nepotism is a very very new gen z phenomenon. I'm not saying I agree one way or another, so don't reblog saying frownyalfred says nepotism is okay. But also, we need to take a step back and realize that for a very long time in this country's history, nepotism, especially in "family" businesses, was damn near expected. Parents gave their kids their businesses when they wanted to retire. Dads hired their sons in their offices, etc etc. There were shades of nepotism, too -- giving a random son a title he didn't earn, versus hiring your accomplished son who just graduated top of his law school. It's not as clear cut as people online would like you to believe, that all nepotism is horrible, that all positions are unearned if they are given by family/friends, and that the worst thing in the world you could do is commit an act of nepotism and not, like, anything else more horrible. That's a tumblr/tiktok thing, which I feel I'm allowed to call out as a fellow member of gen z.

The Justice League isn't a business per se, but it is still something Bruce built and funds. So while we might see some mutterings about nepotism, yeah, I don't imagine anyone is going to get in Bruce's face and give him grief for giving his 1) highly qualified son a 2) position he trained for, for years that 3) Dick is ready to take when Bruce is done 4) in Bruce's own damn house (satellite).

Looking at hero succession through the lens of nepotism does the characters a disservice, I believe. We're applying a 2020's phenomenon (which is shedding important light on irl inequality and inequity, don't get me wrong) and ideas of "fairness" when the subjects are vigilantes and heroes.

And, disregarding everything I just said, the League itself does things by vote -- voting in Dick Grayson and having those checks/balances to Bruce's own goals is important, which is why he built them into the League itself. He can lobby the League, propose Dick, indicate his own preferences as a voting member, but if the entire Founders' table disagrees with him? His hands are kind of tied.

[changetyre]

How long? II Lando Norris X Reader ⓈⒾ

SUMMARY: Finding your soulmate doesn't always include a happy ending.

WARNINGS: Angst Angst Angst with a sprinkle of fluff. Sickness, death.

A/N: This is a story I wrote a while ago for Wattpad and which I always loved but reading it back now there's been things I've wanted to adjust which is what I chose to do here ;)

Lando POV II 

"Tell me about her," she asked me passing me back our photo. 

I looked at it, my thumb grazing over her in the picture I kept in my wallet.

_____

Y/N POV II 

Lando and I've been together ever since I can remember. We met when we were only toddlers and became inseparable ever since. We both knew in our hearts how much we meant to each other, we knew that we couldn't live without each other. However, another part of us, and everyone around us, told us there would come a point where we'd meet other people.

And we did meet other people, in fact when I went to college and Lando joined F1 we both decided to try to date others and it was the most miserable time in both our lives. Which only reinforced our feelings, we were irrevocably in love.

We were aware that we were a very cheesy couple, the kind of people who just didn't care when people were around us and loved to show our love for one another no matter the time and/or place. We were the kind of couple to gift each other little things and have dinner dates every week. Land never failed to bring me flowers every weekend since we started dating.

Life felt like a dream when we were around each other, we literally felt like we were in the clouds, floating in our own bubble of love. But it didn't take long before it burst. 

Given the amount of time Lando and I had spent together we had discussed anything you could possibly imagine and despite some thinking this was a horrible and selfish thought, when Lando and I talked about losing one another, we always thought he would go first...simply because of his job.

What Lando didn't know though was that every night and every time Lando went on track I would pray, pray for his safety, pray for his health, pray that if one of us had to go...for it to be me...because I could simply not live a life without him...the single thought made me choke up. 

'Be careful what you wish for.'

One year ago I was diagnosed with Breast cancer. For some reason the news didn't come to me as much of a shock as I thought, it was like something in my mind and body had expected this, had somehow mentally prepared me for it. On the other hand, I could tell how much this devastated Lando, so much he'd set his mind on quitting F1 to care for me which I had to practically force him not to. 

We had caught it early on and I only needed a few weeks of chemotherapy. Luckily the news came at the end of Lando's season, he would be home and he wouldn't get distracted on track.

Chemo was worse than anyone had ever described to me, it felt like I'd been completely stripped away from my own body and I was miserable but I knew I had to get through it, I tried to keep a smile all the way through it, for Lando, but I knew he could see right through me and he had as many sleepless nights as I did through it all.

Finally the last week of Chemo, everything was better. Lando was certainly brighter than before although I could tell he was still worried, I could see it in his eyes. Every time I'd say I was tired, huff, breath abnormally, or complain about any sort of pain I could tell Lando's heart skipped a beat.

It annoyed me at first because he constantly hovered, but I never said anything and eventually, I understood. I knew that if I was in his shoes I'd be exactly the same and now I found myself wondering whether I'd wished for the right position to be in because even though I was in pain physically...Lando was in pain too, even more than I was...and it broke my heart to see him go through it.

Now I wanted the season to start more than ever so Lando could put his focus and worry somewhere else other than me, and even though I worried that he might have an accident because of all this distraction I knew how much he adored driving and it was what he needed. 

The start of the season went well, not as good as we expected but it was good enough and the boys still had the rest of the season left.

I was with Lando in Monaco for the race, I was so excited about having him race here in Monaco since we'd recently bought our apartment here and we hadn't been able to enjoy it because of my treatments. 

It seemed like things were finally getting back to normal, Lando and I were floating back up in the clouds again and we were finally finding our rhythm again...it was almost too good to be true. 

I was home making dinner for Lando and me, he'd texted he was almost home and I'd decided to make some food for us. The whole day I'd noticed I was particularly exhausted and I kept running out of breath doing simple things. I had just set the table when all of a sudden it felt like my lungs had disappeared.

I dropped to the ground in pain gasping with all my power for some air. I thought I was going to die right there and then all until I heard the door open.

"Y/N!" I heard Lando's panicked scream. "LOVE!"

He pulled me up and turned me towards him, I clutched my chest. "I can't breathe." I wheezed.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" He screamed out.

And eventually, for me, everything went black.

__

I woke up on an all too familiar surface. I was in a hospital bed, all sorts of tubes and needles attached to me. I looked for Lando and saw he was outside talking to the doctor, I could see him through the window.

Lando was facing my way while the doctor's back was towards me. I could tell it was a serious conversation and as much as I tried to deny it I knew what was happening. The cancer was back...and this time it wasn't going away.

I saw the anger and pain in Lando's eyes as the doctor spoke to him, he argued. I imagined he kept asking for a solution that simply didn't exist. Lando held his tears in all until he locked eyes with me. I gave him a look letting him know it was okay, I knew and that was enough for him to break down.

The doctor simply patted his shoulder before walking away. Lando walked to the room wiping his tears away as best as he could. Once he came in I could tell he didn't know what to say.

"It's back-" he spoke in barely above a whisper. 

"I know baby." I opened my arms for him and he broke down in tears again. I cried with him, not because of my pain but because of his.

"How long?" I asked him after a few minutes.

Lando kept his head buried in my chest but I could feel him shaking his head.

"Baby how long?" I repeated the question.

His head finally rose up, his eyes were swollen and the tears just kept coming. "They're not sure, he says it could be 6 months or a week." Lando's voice broke at the last words before he buried his face in my chest once more except this time he wrapped his arms around me holding me tightly as if I could slip away at any second.

"I love you..." he wept "I'm so sorry." these last words shattered me.

"I'm sorry too...I love you." I whispered to him as I kissed the top of his head.

"Baby I'm scared-" he whispered into my chest. 

I didn't exactly know how to comfort him, I let Lando cry it out as much as he needed to while I tried to remain strong, I found myself pondering over how I felt, I wasn't scared but I was in pain, and I was so miserable for leaving Lando like this, we definitely didn't have enough time together.

___

The next morning once Lando had come back into my room with a cup of coffee I decided it was time to talk about the next step. I knew deep down Lando still wanted to push for a cure that simply didn't exist but I also knew I didn't want to spend another second stuck in these hideous grey walls.

"Baby I want to get out here," I spoke. I was prepared for a discussion.

Lando simply looked down and gave a shaky sigh. "I know...and I'll get you out." his lip quivered and I could see tears brimming up in his eyes again.

"You're not going to ask me to stay?" I needed confirmation.

Lando got up and walked over to me, he scooted me over and sat down on the bed. "The day I met you-" he took a deep breath trying to keep himself together. "I made a promise to myself that I would do everything in my power to make you happy no matter what-" a tear slipped down his cheek. "I hope you know that if it was possible I'd take your place right now because seeing you like this..." another tear fell down his cheek. "it's been hell." I placed my hand on his cheek caressing it, I was crying too. "But I know you better than anyone and I know that you're not the kind of person to go out in a hospital room and I know you want to do as much as you can before you-" he stopped himself and his breath hitched. He couldn't say it.

"You're right." I quickly said not wanting him to finish because I could tell how hard it was for him. "I want to spend every second I have left with you, with the people I love, out of here." His lip quivered again as more tears left his eyes.

"Let's go then." Lando got back up starting to pack my things.

The news spread through the F1 world fairly quickly and I was flooded with pitiful messages all over my social media. Lando's friends from work who I'd grown close to didn't know what to say when I showed up in the paddock with them for the Monaco GP. Most of them simply gave me glances that spoke a thousand words.

Carlos, Alex, George, and Charles had all been incapable of holding their tears back as they saw me, giving me a hug that only existed for these situations.

After the Monaco GP, Lando and I found ourselves going to our favorite spots within Monaco, I was tired, so tired and I could feel death inching closer every day but I held on, I held on because...I knew he wasn't ready...I wasn't ready.

One morning I woke up to find Lando had planned a whole day for us and it all started at home. I'd walked to the living room to find Lando had prepared a very scrumptious breakfast. And he'd decorated our balcony with roses and candles.

We walked to it and there Lando got down on one knee, pulling out a small black box, which he opened to reveal a ring. My hands flew up to my mouth, I had always dreamed of this day but certainly not like this.

"My dearest y/n, I've imagined this very day over a thousand times in my head and I've come up with hundreds of speeches for this very occasion but it seems none of them would work for what we're going through now." His voice broke. "You have been the first and only woman in my life I have ever loved, you have been my best friend since day one, you've been my rock, my world, my everything and I simply do not want to spend another day not being able to call you my wife...so y/n, my love will you marry me?" I could tell he sped up the last bit to hold his tears back.

"Yes." I let him slip the ring on my finger before he rose up and we engulfed each other in a deep kiss.

"Propose...check" he pretended to hold a list and checked off the first point making me laugh.

"So what's next my fiancé," I asked him.

"Well, why don't we get going and I'll show you...my fiancé." he gave me another kiss.

Lando took me shopping for a bit before he drove us both back home. I'd noticed something else had been set up and once I walked into our room I found a wedding dress hanging in our closet. I gasped admiring the dress, it was simple but beautiful.

"Pietra helped me pick it out for you, we tried getting a more over-the-top one but apparently you can't just buy dresses like that overnight." he shrugged.

"It's beautiful." you admired the dress.

"Well you better get dressed, and I'll do the same. I'm going to get dressed somewhere else and when the time comes your driver will be here." he winked.

"Wait what?" I was confused.

"Just be ready in 2 hours...I love you." he gave me a quick peck on the lips before walking out. I got dressed and ready as best as I could with the time I had left, I did a simple hairstyle, partly because I was never good at doing my hair and partly because I barely had the strength to keep my arms up for longer than 3 seconds. 

20 minutes before the 2 hours were up I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and Pietra, Alexandra, Lily, and Carmen were all standing there in matching dresses. You looked at them confused but on the brink of tears because of how beautiful they looked.  "Did I die already?" I joked, and they laughed but I could tell the thought pained them. 

"You look beautiful." P had to pat her eyes as she looked at me. I had naturally grown closest to her because of the brotherhood between Max and Lando. 

"Thank you for doing this?" I had to hold my tears back too. 

"Let's go." Alex and Lily extended their hands out for me and I took them walking out with them. We walked downstairs and Carlos was waiting in an Aston Martin DB6 Volante, that had been decorated with white flowers. 

We arrive at the beach to find it prepared for a ceremony, all of Lando's friends from the paddock and his friends from Quadrant were there, as well as both our parents. I just about started crying there and then. 

I got out of the car and Carlos stood there offering me his arm guiding me to one end of the carpet that had been rolled out. I saw Lando at the other end and tears quickly brimmed my eyes. As soon as he laid eyes on me it didn't take him half a second before he started crying too, Max Fewtrell quickly stepped in to hand him a handkerchief even though he was shedding a few tears too.

Without You by Harry Nilson started playing, and it was enough for me to let my tears run free. Carmen handed me a bouquet of roses and I began walking down the aisle, and for some reason, all my strength seemed to leave me right there and then. 

I stumbled causing everyone to try to jump forward to grab me, My mom caught me, I could see the concern and the pain in her eyes but she also understood I needed to keep going. She wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me down the aisle. 

And now it's only fair that I should let you know what you should know...I can't live, if living is without you...I can't live, I can't give anymore. 

The song reached this part just as I reached him, he wrapped his arms around me, letting his forehead rest on mine. 

"You look beautiful." he sniffled. 

I placed my hand on his cheek before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Let's get married," I whispered to him. 

The ceremony was short, Lando had wanted to arrive at the vows quickly and once we did he pulled out a sheet of paper, a tear was already rolling down his cheek. 

"My best friend, my rock, my first love, my only love, my life, my world, my everything, these words don't come remotely close to describing what you are to me. I hope you know I consider myself the luckiest man on earth to have met you, to have loved you, to have cared for you, and to have married you-" he chocked up. "But although I thought it was impossible...as much as I feel the luckiest man...I feel the unluckiest too." he looked up to meet my eyes completely distraught. "It's unfair the world is taking you away from me when our love story has only just begun, all the dreams, all the plans, all the promises I have yet to fulfill to you will stay here while you will go." he gulped down, he had a knot in his throat. "I will cherish, love, and protect you for the rest of the time we have left together, I will continue bringing you flowers every weekend, I'll wake you up with kisses in the morning, I'll make you smile and laugh every day, and most importantly I will, with all my power, do my best to keep you happy." he finished. 

I leaned forward giving him a long kiss on the cheek, now it was my turn and since this was all unexpected I hadn't prepared anything but already had enough to say. 

"My Lando...you have made me the happiest woman on earth since the day I met you. You are the most loyal, hardworking, loving, fun man I have ever known and I consider myself the luckiest woman on earth to have fallen in love with you. And the luckiest woman for you will be the first, last, and only man I will ever love." Lando's lips quivered as I said those words, a sob escaping his lips. "I will forever be sorry that we didn't get more time together, that I couldn't give you what we had so long hoped for, a life, kids, to grow old together." I cleared my throat having to compose myself. "I wish there was more I could do to keep you happy in the time I have left my darling, I can't promise you much, but I promise that I will love you with every fiber of my body and soul until my last breath." I ended. 

We were pronounced husband and wife and Lando pulled me in for a long deep kiss, mixed with both our tears. 

It was the most perfect day of my life, surrounded by so much love from our families and friends, surrounded by so much happiness. Once the moon was out and the tide started rising things started getting packed up but Lando and I decided to take a walk along the beach. 

We walked in silence, simply appreciating and cherishing each other's company. Once we were nearing the end of the beach I had to speak about what was on my mind. 

"Lando." I started. 

"No." he immediately replied. 

"Baby-" I was going to keep going. 

"I know what you're going to say and you can't ask me that-" he spoke softly but I could hear the anger and hurt in his voice. 

"Lando listen to me please-" I stopped making Lando turn to me. He looked down and he was crying silent tears. "After I'm gone I need you to promise me you will keep going no matter how hard or painful it is...I want you to give your career 1000% percent like you always have...and someday whenever you're ready I want you to find someone who will make you happy, who will take care of you, who you will fall in love with and start a family with-" I spoke clearly, this was a thought I'd head since the first time I'd found out I was sick. 

"No, I can't." He replied sniffling. 

"Yes you can and you will," I assured him. 

"How will I ever love someone as I love you..." he locked eyes with me. 

"I'm not asking you to love someone as you love me. But you will learn to love again, I just want you to promise you will not shut yourself out, you need to keep going...for me." I walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, with one hand I wiped the tears from under his eyes. 

He looked at me unsure and simply nodded, I knew he didn't mean it right now but it was as much reassurance as I would get from him for now. 

"I'll never find anyone like you." He spoke once we'd started walking back. 

"Maybe not, but you will find someone, there's plenty of women out there Lando, amazing, beautiful, incredibly talented women and I'm sure there's someone else for you." the mood had livened up a little bit. 

____

LANDO POV II 

The next morning I woke up...she didn't. She'd passed in her sleep, in my arms. A smile was still on her lips. I knew she was gone but I still tried to wake her, I still needed her to wake up.

I was inconsolable for months after her death, and my friends and my family had to help me back to my feet. Literally, because it was as though all my strength, all my will to live had died with her that day.

"She made me promise her that I would find someone else, that I'd fall in love again." I stifled a laugh remembering our walk at the beach. 

"She sounds like an amazing woman." She commented. She had a very genuine smile. 

"She was...I never met anyone like her." I sighed, that ache in my heart was still very present but bearable now.

_____________

Bonus A/N: 

If it serves as any consolation I cried my eyes out writing this story. . 

[ikarakie]

part 1

eddie wakes up.

he doesn't expect to. not on earth, anyways. but he does, in a hospital bed, to dustin's scolding and the girls' smiles. he's told they won, vecna's dead. the government are working on clearing his name as they speak as a fucked up 'thank you', and everything is fucking okay.

he asks after red and the sinclairs. apparently, they had a run-in with asshole of the century jason carver, but sinclair had held his own with a mean right hook that harrington had taught him once. max had fought vecna off with the help of supergirl, who'd come into her mind at the last second via shenanigans that eddie didn't understand. though he was assured he'd have the story told to him by mike himself, since he, supergirl, and the byers' were on their way in from california.

everyone's crowded around his bed, minus one very pretty head of hair, firing off their accounts. robin's partway through how the vines had attacked them when it happens.

"and then they grabbed me and slammed me against the wall! so steve-" and she hesitates. widens her eyes and a looks a bit nauseous all of a sudden. eddie feels his stomach sink.

"hey, speaking of harrington, where is he?" he asks, hoping to fucking god it's not what he thinks. though the way the room falls silent, the way dustin's suddenly holding his hand a lot tighter, makes his eyes water.

"he got you out." henderson whispers, sounding so very broken. "he- he carried you back to the gate and sent you through, but it- it was closing." he's biting his lip so hard he draws blood.

"he... he's still there?" eddie asks, breathless, horrified. the image of steve harrington hauling his ass out of that backwards hell dimension only to get stuck there himself makes his head spin. robin breaks down next to him, bringing her legs to her chest on her chair. nancy puts an arm around her shoulder.

"he made sure we all got through first." she says, deceptively even. eddie can see how tense her shoulders are, and he gets it. because, for fucks sakes, of course he sent the girls and henderson through first. "i think... i think he didn't want to risk coming through when it was so nearly closed. so he stayed."

eddie takes a second. looks around the room, at everyone's sullen faces. wonders why steve thought his was the life to save instead of his own, when all these people loved him so fucking dearly. eddie liked robin, and he liked max, and nancy, and the little sinclair, but they were more steve's people than his. and yet the guy, for whatever fucking reason, thought eddie, who was barely clinging on to begin with, was the one who deserved to live?

if you told him three months ago that he'd be sat in a hospital bed, having been dragged back from the edge of death by steve harrington, who'd fucking sacrificed himself to do so, he would've laughed. even more, if you told him that, in that position, eddie's heart ached with affection for the guy, he would've punched you. probably.

not that his puppy crush on steve was a recent development, but this whole... seeing him in action thing had just exacerbated it. especially with all those lingering looks they'd shared. semi-flirty words and little signals that eddie forced himself not to read into. but now he wished he had. wished he'd said what he'd meant to, that last time they saw each other.

"it's okay, though." dustin said, breaking the silence. "because when el comes back, she'll just open a gate, and we can go and get him." he sounds so sure, that for a moment, eddie thinks he's right, but the way nancy sighs indicates this is an issue.

"we'd like to do that." she says, "but... we don't know if vecna dying means... the upside down did, too." god, she was right. what if it'd all collapsed in on itself? robin sobs harder, shaking her head, and eddie puts a hand on one of her knees. wishes, not for the first time, that steve was here, to hold her. instead of- of- wherever he was.

the next week and half passes in a blur. eddie gets discharged, despite everyone's protests, and just told he needs to rest while he heals. they all set up camp in steve's house, which feels fucking weird, but dustin reasons that they need to all be together to form a plan, to watch eddie, and robin had a key anyways, and the place was massive, and it's not like steve ever minded. (the 'when he was alive' goes unspoken. they don't want to talk like that, not yet.)

it's one more week before mike and his little crew get back. apparently, they got caught in some government bullshit that'd held them up, but they return with joyce byers and a back-from-the-dead chief hopper, so that's cool. there's hugs and reunions and stories are exchanged. when the bit about steve getting stuck in the upside down comes up, eddie sees how will byers' face falls. remembers dustin saying he'd been trapped there once, too, and supposes it's sympathy.

chief hopper looks ready to tear the whole place apart. he'd asked after steve the second everyone had gathered, strangely terrifying for a man who was skin and bones. he'd only settled and listened to the story after being assured steve wasn't dead. (not that they... actually knew that, but no one wanted to say it out loud again).

supergirl, eleven, wasted no fucking time. she grabbed a radio and a piece of fabric and apparently began 'searching for steve in the void'. though eddie didn't quite understand, he held his breath alongside everyone else. only relaxing when she smiled, and said, albeit a little wobbly: "he is alive. he is okay."

robin's sobs would probably be with him till the day he died. she'd collapsed into joyce byers' arms, mumbling incoherently. dustin wasn't any better, crying into will's shoulder.

after some safety briefings, and a begruding blessing from hopper, supergirl opened a gate in steve's living room and fucked off through it. eddie was astounded at the ease with which she entered the dimension. will explained that, because vecna was dead, it didn't 'feel as bad anymore'. though he still held mike's hand tightly and sat as far away from it as possible.

and so the waiting game began. they tried to make small talk, tried to keep the mood light, but the whole thing weighed heavy on them. watching the gate to hell that they'd just sent a little girl through, wishing every second she'd come back in one piece.

it was maybe forty five minutes later when max perked up. they all turned to the gate at her movement, and sure enough, there they were.

he was pale, and tired looking, covered in some sort of goop or slime or something. holding eleven's hand the whole time- though for who's benefit, eddie wasn't sure. he stumbled a bit as he stepped through the gate and still, still, turned to help el through. though he was a bit slimmer, and clearly weary, it was him, it was steve, and he was alive.

robin was on him in seconds. screaming, clinging to him and asking him 'how dare you? how fucking dare you? never do that to me again, you piece of shit! i love you so much, you can't do that!' he buried his face in her shoulder and swayed slightly as he held her. murmuring things eddie couldn't hear. dustin wasn't far behind, squeezing between them and similarly blubbering. steve was hugging them both and gazing at them- at everyone who was crying- with such wonder. like he couldn't believe he'd been missed that much.

one by one, everyone had their fill. max whacked him on the arm and then hugged him so tightly it looked like it hurt. nancy brushed his hair back out of his eyes and called him an idiot. joyce byers gently wiped his face of dirt and grime before kissing his cheek. chief hopper held him like a father, strong and tight.

eddie sat back, just watched. wondered how someone could be so loved and not feel worth it at all.

then steve's eyes settled on him. they brightened, almost sparkled. "eddie!" he called. his voice was rough from disuse, but still sounding so relieved and happy it made eddie falter. he stepped forwards, feeling steve's dazzling smile pull the corners of his own mouth upwards. "you're okay!"

then he had an armful of steve harrington, and it all came flooding out. he felt a bit foolish, but only until he realised steve was crying too. "you... asshole." he muttered, holding him as tightly as his strength would allow.

"i told you not to be fucking hero." steve huffed, though it lost any of it's power with how his voice wobbled. "i thought you died, i thought-"

"you're one to fucking talk!" eddie cried, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. "i woke up and you- they told me you dragged my ass outta there and then stayed behind! no one knew what had happened to you, it's been weeks, steve! i couldn't- why would you do that? why would you not just leave me-"

"i couldn't leave you!" god, he sounded so offended at the very idea. eddie felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. "i couldn't- i wouldn't do that-"

"i know you wouldn't." eddie lamented, because fuck, he did. he knew deep down even if he had died there, outside his trailer to those bats, steve still would've brought him home. "doesn't make it any less stupid. just makes you- makes you so-"

it hit him how close they were. probably an inch, maybe less, between their faces.

"makes me so what?" steve asked, a little breathless. eddie gazed at him, deciding that: fuck it. he'd been too close to death to not... see if whatever he thought they had was real. he sent a mental prayer to a god he didn't really believe in anymore: please, let him not have read this wrong.

he looked to steve's lips. pointedly. watched how his cheeks flushed and a shy smile crept onto them. how his eyes flickered down to eddie's as well. there was a silent, shared understanding: if we were alone right now, i'd like to have kissed you.

"so... stupidly perfect, steve harrington." eddie muttered, undeniably affectionate, pulling him in for another embrace. tucked his face into his neck so he could whisper. "you can't save someone's life and then die before they can tell you thank you." steve melted under his touch, pressing a kiss to where his shoulder met his neck under the safety of eddie's hair. it made him warm, and giddy, and so very fucking thankful.

"you can tell me now." he whispered back. eddie couldn't help but smile again. he'd tell him anything if he asked like that.

"thank you, steve." he muttered, squeezing him slightly. hoping his touch communicated what he needed it to: please, please, please don't leave me again.

"anytime, eddie." steve whispered back, hands balling into the fabric of the shirt eddie wore. i won't, as long as you don't either.

[m00nsbaby]

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

[frickingnerd]

the world is (y)ours

pairing: ganondorf x fem!reader

summary: you love ganon, you really do. but you worry he has gone too far this time...

tags: manipulation, mention of death/murder (nothing graphic), toxic relationship, established relationship

“w-what… what did you do…?”

you couldn't take your eyes off the ruins of the city. only days ago, this place was a lively city, with dozens of people living in it. but now, it was burned down to ashes. you couldn't even make out what the burned down buildings used to be. and in the middle of all those ruins and ashes stood the man you loved.

“they were in my way, so i got rid of them”

he had his back turned to you and you could only imagine that his eyes were wandering through the remains of the city as well. yet he seemed to feel no remorse.

“they were in your way!?” you stepped forward. “all of them? all those innocent people were in your way? every single one of them?”

ganon didn't reply. because he couldn't. there was nothing he could say to defend himself.

“this…” suddenly, he raised his voice. “this is what we wanted. with this town gone, there's a gap in power. i'll be there to fill it and then we'll–”

before he could finish speaking, your hand met his face. normally, nobody would've been able to land a single hit on him. but he was careless. ganon thought he could let his guard down around you. but clearly, he couldn't.

“this isn't what we wanted! this is what you want! you want to seize control over hyrule! i only wanted to be with you–!!”

you tried to go in for another slap, but this time ganon was prepared. he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up. he was so much taller than you and yet you struggled against him. while you kicked and screamed at him, telling him to let go of you, he barely even bat an eye. there wasn't a single emotion on his face. he looked as calm as ever, until eventually he shoved you against the nearest wall, hands pinned above your head.

“you lost.” he told you calmly.

“no, you lost your way–!!” you screamed back. “you told me we'd be king and queen of hyrule! but not like this! not by killing people and taking those positions by force! this isn't how it was supposed to be… you changed…”

those last two words were barely a whisper, yet ganon heard them so clearly. the grip around your wrist loosened and one of his hands found its way to gently caress your cheek.

“i'm still the man you trust” he reminded you. “being your king was always my dream, my love. i just want us to rule, side by side. don't you want this? don't you want to be with me? don't you want to see me happy?”

you knew this was a trick. he'd have you tell him that you still love and trust him. in the end, you'd be the one apologizing, while he faces no consequences for his actions. because it was always like this. you loved him and you still saw the man he used to be in him. but that man was gone. and yet, you wouldn't stop chasing who he used to be…

“i… i still want to be with you.”

you lowered your head, too ashamed to even look at him. perhaps if you had looked at him, you would’ve seen that sinister smile spreading over his lips, as he spoke:

“i know you'd say that, my love”

[thollandneedy]

Fill Up the Room- Nathan Drake

A/n: Enemies to lovers always wins my heart

Warnings: Cursing and suggestive content

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Summary: Y/n and Nathan are always teasing each other, but things get different when they confess their feelings

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

“ Ugh, finally” Y/n grunted, throwing one of his suitcases on the floor and letting his body touch the double bed of the seaside hotel. 

On the other side of the bed, Nathan Drake sighed deeply, trying to understand how he could get back to his original position and find Sully. One of his hands found his face, pulling it down as a gesture of discontent. If it hadn't been for Y/n's failed plan, maybe they wouldn't be stuck in a hotel by the beach, and maybe Nathan would have found the lost treasure he had longed for as a child. In Y/n's view, all this was completely the opposite, since Nathan didn't take his job seriously (in his view), and was too imaginative when it came to fights and escapes.

“Finally,” Nathan grumbled disdainfully at the comment, turning his head away and heading for the bathroom.

“Why don't you say it to my face, since you're mumbling all the time?” Y/n sat down on the bed, casting a judgmental glance at his fellow adventurer.

“Because you know very well that this is your fault.” The brunette replied, turning his body towards where the woman was.

“My fault?” The girl points at herself, and laughs in denial. “It was you who drank too much wine yesterday, and simply woke up late to take our cab. When we got to the plane, you couldn't wait for my signal. You had to do everything first and send us to the fucking middle of the ocean in a box full of who knows what.” Y/n stood up, moving towards him as she spoke.

The room's wooden windows couldn't hide the fight they were having, and the translucent curtains couldn't hide the fact that there were two people fighting. 

“You had a shitty plan to attack from behind, taking out whoever was flying. Then Sully and I would attack the other mobsters, but we'd all fall into the water and probably die. Are you sure the problem started with me, darling? Because as far as I knew, you were the reason I was late this morning” The brunette moved closer to the girl, crossing his arms as he completed the sentence.

Their breaths were almost mingling, but Y/n was distracted by the fact Nate had mentioned. The girl frowned, moving a little away from the image of Nate, who was now looking at her in confusion, thinking that she would remember what had happened last night after they'd had several glasses of wine after dinner at the hostel. 

"Oh my God. You really don't remember?” The man laughed to himself, giving a slight smile.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Nathan?” Y/n asked hesitantly.

"After the drinks we had, and the long sleep Sully was having, we kissed. We didn't get to have sex, but his hands know very well where to touch.” Nate says, then gets a push on the shoulder.

"Shut up. That never happened. If it had, I would have remembered it perfectly. I'm not some irresponsible girl, and by the way, even though I drank a lot last night, I got up early.” Y/n says angrily, causing Nate to laugh.

"You just don't want to accept the facts, love. Accept that this is what we have.” Nate points at himself and then at Y/n. ”It's just a little lie, and you like my company and the boyish style on your side. You feel superior to me, and you like to be in control.” Y/n turns around, but Nathan's strong hand grabs her wrist without hurting her, bringing her close to his body full of sea salt on his clothes.

“You're crazy to believe that I would allow myself to like someone like you.” Y/n growls, but doesn't try to pull her fist out of the adventurer's grasp.

"So you didn't like Chloe because she was hitting on me? Or was there some reason why you two didn't get along?”

“It's not all about you, Nathan.” Finally, Y/n pulls his wrist tightly to himself and heads for the bathroom to cool off. 

The brunette hears the door slam, then sits down on one of the sofas in the suite to think of ways to find the new routes to the lost treasure. The hours passed, and finally the moon took its place in the sky, allowing the light of the candles to illuminate the dark room. While Y/n sat on her bed using her laptop to talk to Sully, Nate was looking through old letters from his brother. The girl didn't understand Nathan's fixation with treasure, let alone these random letters that he always managed to carry around with him. 

When she accepted the job, she was only thinking about her future, since she wanted to be a great historian and finish her anthropological research. As soon as she met the rest of the team, which she didn't know would have more people, Y/n just focused on getting her share and leaving. However, I couldn't lie when I thought that there was an empathy between the two. Nathan was never his favorite, much less Chloe, but even though he had a childish and silly instinct, he knew how to always protect the team and do what was right.

“Did you find anything?” Nate's voice broke into Y/n's thoughts, taking her eyes off the computer and staring at the man wearing a white bathrobe who stood in front of the foot of the bed.

“I thought so.” Y/n looked away again, realizing that it was already past midnight. I think I'll go to sleep. Feel free to look at my laptop”. The girl in the bathrobe hands the device to Nate, who only replies with a smile that doesn't show his teeth.

"I've written down some coordinates, but I think I need to rest too. We have a long day tomorrow.” The brunette runs one of his hands through his hair, while the other leaves the laptop on a sofa at the foot of the bed. Can I have a pillow?” The man stretches out one of his hands, but Y/n tilts her head to one side.

“Is this because of the fight we had?” the girl asks, pulling the comforter of the double bed over herself. 

“No. I just don't want it to seem like I'm forcing anything, and I know I'm not your favorite either, so...- The brunette looks away, staring at the walls of the beach-themed room with its light colors and sandy tones scattered throughout the rest of the room.

“I don't mind.” The woman said without making eye contact.

Her main point was that Nate didn't lie. 

Chloe could be a manipulative bitch, but the fact that she wanted to manipulate Nate was what made the situation more unacceptable than it already was. 

The candles in the room had already been extinguished, and now only the lights from the lamps were illuminating the room. In an instant, everything became a strange pitch, where there was no conversation and the sea was the only thing that improved the mood. The moon was part of the room that was no longer so dark, but their thoughts seemed to speak louder. With their backs to each other, it was still possible to hear their heavy breathing, showing that they weren't asleep yet. Y/n closed his eyes, but they opened immediately, as he couldn't sleep without saying something. Her pride felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, and it did.

-"Sorry about this afternoon. I just want to take my cut and go.” Y/n's voice reached her partner's ears, who looked over his shoulder, seeing that she was still on her back.

-“I understand, don't worry.” Nate says without thinking twice about his response, since this conversation has been programmed into his head since the shower.

"And about Chloe... I didn't feel she was a good person. I guess I just imagined that she was using you, and that's why I was a little wary of her. But I know you liked her. It's a shame she left and gave up.” The girl curls up between the covers, holding them tightly.

The answer was complete silence

And so, Y/n decided to close her eyes to rest, even though she didn't want to

“I like being with you. Hearing you curse me, or compliment me, whatever. I... I like your company, and how you like to pretend that you're always in control of everything, when visibly you're fucking freaking out screaming in the bathroom, as if we couldn't hear your frustration every time something goes wrong”.

Y/n's eyes flew open, and the lamp was quickly turned on.

“What?”

“You're not easy to deal with, Y/n. Let's agree on that fact, but I can't deny that you make me fall more and more every time you boss me around.” Nate confessed, fixing his chocolate eyes on the woman, and sitting back against the pair of white pillows behind him. 

“Did you drink poisoned wine?” Y/n asked, still not understanding why he was saying that. 

“Is that a reciprocal yes or no?” Nathan turns on the lamp on his side of the bed, exposing his marked and tanned abdomen.

More silence

And more silence

“For someone who's a loudmouth in fights, you know how to keep quiet when you need to, don't you?” Nate says jokingly, and receiving silence in response, he just turns over to lie down again. 

Y/n's light hands find one of Nathan's exposed muscles, making him finally look at her. In one hot moment, Y/n's lap meets her partner's, and their tongues dance without having time to waste on each other. Y/n's robe slowly slips off her shoulder, exposing more and more of her body. Like a silent request, the kiss stops between panting breaths.

“Did we really kiss yesterday?” the girl asks, receiving a nod.

Nate's hands find a piece of her hair that falls into her eyes, tucking it behind her ear carefully. His strong voice is drawn to her ear, causing a shiver as he speaks:

“Don't worry about the silence, princess. Your screams will fill the room.”

[acapelladitty]

something lost, something gained

Summary: After being snatched by human traffickers while exploring an abandoned schoolhouse, Lucy fights to survive as she waits for Cooper to find her. (3.9k words)

(warnings for: attempted sexual assault, biting, blood, face slapping, groping, violence, murder, aftercare, hurt/comfort, cooper trying his best in a bad situation)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Awaking with a languid groan, Lucy's eyes flittered open for only a moment before slamming shut again as a dull pain to her temple made her wince and gasp. Raising her right hand to press at the skin, she was surprised to find her left hand moving in tandem and her eyes snapped open as she realised that her hands were bound together.

Gazing down at the coarse rope which encircled her wrists, panic arose in Lucy's chest as she glanced around the small, cell-shaped room and immediately understood that she was not anywhere recognisable. It didn't even look like the same building she last remembered walking into.

"Cooper?" Calling out with a dry, uncomfortable voice, a sense of irritation laced the anxiety which rolled through her. "What the fudge? Why am I in here?"

The door to the cell creaked open and Lucy glanced up from her slumped position to see a man she did not recognise fill the doorway. He was very tall, head almost brushing the top of the door frame, with a mop of raggedy blonde hair hanging limply across his shoulders and something in the way he looked at her made her skin crawl with unspoken danger. An instinctive disgust which made her mouth tighten.

"Finally awake." The man spoke, his voice sharp, light and slightly pitched. "We were worried we'd done some real damage to your head there."

At his words, Lucy finished her earlier assessment as her fingers once again grazed the hard lump which had formed on her temple - the skin feeling raw and wounded under her fingertips. Dragging her fingertips away, she found them flecked with her own blood.

"Who are you?" She asked, wide eyes darting across the limited space. "Did Cooper put you up to this? Or my father?"

"Don't know who any of those people are but we saw you going into that old schoolhouse with a ghoul so we snuck in, waited for you to split, and gently smuggled you out."

Gently smuggled.

The wound on her head suggested otherwise.

"Why?" A reflex question, one Lucy didn't think she wanted the answer to as the blonde man took a small step in her direction to stare down at her with a lecherous smirk.

"Cause you're in our territory and you're ours now. Me and my buddies have a little side business going on and you're our latest catch." His gaze roving across her white tank top and blue pants, one of his hands settled on the visible bulge of his groin as he winked at her. "We take them, break them, and pass them on to be sold. 50/50 share. And, baby, let me tell you, you're gonna fetch us a pretty price."

The panic in her chest now clawing at her heart as she scrambled her back against the cool stone of the wall, Lucy felt sweat break out across her body as she took in his candid admission with open-mouthed horror.

"No. You can't-"

"Yeah. I can smell the vault on you so I know you probably aren't rolling with the same diseases as all the other cunts we pick up."

Flinching at the term, Lucy fell back into what she knew best as old defense mechanisms kicked in to protect her as best they could.

"Let me go and I'll get you whatever you need. Caps, meds, weapons. I know people who could hel-"

"You?" Laughing openly at her offer, the man steadied himself against the doorframe. "Maybe that bulky ghoul we saw you with could have worked some muscle for us but you haven't got shit we need. Well, aside from-"

His hand still groping sleazily against his bulge, the man stepped fully within the cell and kicked the door shut before him. An action which made Lucy jump as her body shuddered and tensed to the point of discomfort, sensing the danger and violence to come.

"You see, cunt. I'm much nicer than my two friends out there and I'm willing to cut you some slack. Wrap your lips around my cock and suck it like your life depended on it, and I'll tell the boys that you're willing to be a good girl for us. They'll even leave their nasty 'breaking in' toys at the door if they think you're gonna be a good girl."

As he spoke, his body inched closer towards Lucy and her fingers shook terribly as she struggled against the rope holding her wrists, vision quick to blur as genuine fear rocked through her body.

He's going to rape me. Repeated in her head like a cruel, merciless mantra. The elders had told them what rape was, explained that they needed consent to ensure that everyone in the vault was happy and able to share their bodies without problem. They knew, in the vault, they all knew what was okay and what wasn't.

"Cooper!" She hollered out, voice breaking on the second syllable as she attempted to back up against the wall enough to scramble to her feet. "Please, fudge, someone help!"

A memory rose, unbidden in her mind as Lucy rolled her back against the wall. Not long after her body had started to change, one of the elders, a slender old guy named Ernest, had caught her in the gardens. He had asked her questions about her changing body, questions that made her heart feel heavy in her chest as a sense of how wrong he made her feel forced her to back away from him.

He had moved to grab her, his hand wrenching her arm away from her chest when her father had appeared from nowhere. He had been causal in his greeting but even as a child, she had noticed how tight her dad's smile was and how quickly he ushered her back to her room so he could have a quick chat with him.

Ernest died soon after. One of the first to be lost to the latest famine as the crops failed due to an unknown blight. She hadn't questioned it then, too many good people had been lost, but now, in this moment where that same childish fear weighed heavily at her limbs, she wondered if her father had killed him for what he had tried to do.

Kicking out with her feet as the man dropped to his knees before her, his fingers were quick to lock around her ankles - pulling her free of the wall and stealing the breath from her lungs as her head collided with the floor.

"Please, no. Don't do this! No!"

"First times always the worst."

Flashing rotted teeth at her as he straddled her waist, his hands pinned her own roped palms to her stomach as he burrowed down into her space. His breath was awful, smelling foul and rancid, and it sparked a retch in Lucy's throat as she twisted her head to the side. His tongue trailed across her cheek, tasting the grime on her skin as he growled in her ear.

"Just gotta remember to be a good girl and-ARGH!" Breaking off into a pained scream, the man reared back as blood poured from his mouth to drip down on her tank top.

Spitting out the large portion of tongue she had ripped free with her teeth, Lucy used her attackers moment of stunned pain to knock him free of her body. Crawling on her knees, she almost made it to the door when a rough hand wrapped around her hair.

"Stupid cunt!" The words lisping due to his injury, the man's hand was like fire in her hair as he snatched at her scalp viciously. "Gonna break your fucking nose for that."

Yelling as her hands locked around a small shard of metal that lay by the closed door, the man's foot having accidentally knocked it within the cell as he entered, Lucy gripped it tight as she spun on her knees, digging the shard deep into the closest foot she could reach before pulling it free with a vicious twist.

A fresh cry of pain broke free of her attacker as he crashed to the ground, his hands tight around his foot while he snarled obscenities at her.

Fuelled by adrenaline, fear and rage, Lucy pounced on him like a cat, knocking his back flat to the floor as she stabbed the metal as roughly into his throat as she could. Memories of her fraudulent husband flashed before her eyes and she hollered a vicious snarl as she dragged the metal through his skin until the blood flowed and the gurgling of his throat ceased.

Breathing heavily, she stayed in that position until his glassy-eyed stare repulsed her, the scent of fresh blood making her heave anew. Body shaking and mind rattling, it was only when a new voice broke the silence that she jumped as though an electric bolt had fired across her spine.

"Fuck, Petey. She's killed Owen."

Rolling off the corpse, Lucy was quick to take her earlier position - her stained fingers clutching the metal shard as her back pressed against the wall once more.

"Owen was always a dipshit. We'll be better off without him." The taller of the two newcomers added.

Looking just as filthy as the first guy, Lucy's eyes were wild as she pointed the metal at each of them in turn.

"L-let me go. I'll do the same to you." She stuttered, a sinking feeling of despair making her skin feel cold and clammy. "I've killed people before and you'll be next."

Glancing between themselves, both men burst out into a cruel laughter and their movements were quick as they descended on her. Fingers already trembling, it was easy for them to wrestle the metal from her hands and pin her to the floor; their much larger bodies easily holding her knees apart as they pressed them to the floor with their own legs.

Rough hands fished inside her tank top and Lucy found herself unable to do much but bare her teeth and fight off a sob as her chest was pulled free of her bra; breasts spilling over the fabric as matching grunts of approval escaped her attackers.

"They'll do nicely. Fuck, might not even sell this one, what do you think?" The one named Petey asked, his free hand gripping at her chin painfully as he tilted her head to the side in a crude inspection.

Cupping her left breast as though weighing it in his hand, the other man flashed a yellow smile at her.

"Could play with her for a few weeks without going to the others. Would you like that? A few weeks with us and then a ten minute walk up north to meet the rest of the boys?"

Refusing to answer as a fat tear rolled free of her eye, Lucy chose to remain quiet and not give them anything as she struggled in vain.

"You owe us for you did to Owen." The second man continued, his face an open leer as he released her jaw. "So I'm gonna fuck you and then Petey is gonna fuck you and then we're both gonna fuck you. Then you're gonna open those pretty lips wide for-"

"No."

A sharp hand collided with the side of Lucy's face, the blow catching her across the mouth and bursting her lip open in an instant as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.

"Not asking, cunt."

Their hands were all over her, one set fondling her breasts while the other pulled at the hem of her tank top to expose her stomach. They were everywhere and the feeling of them, hot and heavy atop her body, made her feel sick - her throat constricting and panicking as her breaths came short and fast.

The vague sound of the door slamming open touched at her senses but it felt so far off that she didn't think much of it until all hell broke loose.

A fresh splatter of blood sprayed across her face, the sensation matching by a booming gunshot which made her ears ring in the small space as the taller of the two, Petey, collapsed dead atop her - a hole leaking blood and brains from the front of his forehead to her exposed chest.

In shock, both Lucy and the remaining man stared at the corpse for a second before Lucy felt half the weight on her body disappear as the final attacker was pulled free. Her eyes unfocused and blurred with tears, she saw the flash of familiar, tattered leather which hurled her would-be attacker against the wall.

Sounds of exertion were quickly followed by a fresh death gurgle as Cooper's knife flashed in his hand for only a second before being drawn across her attackers throat; the arterial spray swiftly coating Cooper's clothed chest as he let go of his prey and allowed the fresh body to drop to the floor.

Not trusting her eyes, Lucy tilted her head back and cast her gaze to the dingy ceiling as her thoughs spiralled into a messy haze.

After a moment, Cooper's face swam in her vision and the close sight of him sparked a myriad of emotions within her; shock giving way to genuine relief before settling on fear as she took in the genuine fury which blazed in his stark white eyes as they darted across her battered face and disjointed clothing.

He wasn't angry with her, she knew that, but the sheer rage which rolled from his coiled frame made her want to curl into a ball and hide away from it. He smelled of leather and blood, the scent of fresh violence making her nose twitch as the corpses of her attackers lay motionless, crowding the floor of her cell.

"S'alright, I got you, sweetie." Cooper's hands were firm but gentle as he wrapped them around her shoulders, hoisting her enough that she were able to lean against the wall in a sitting position.

Despite everything, his voice was like a balm and she relaxed into his touch as her trembling fingers were gripped within his own - his knife glinting once more as he quickly severed her bindings and let the rope fall to the floor. In an instant, her knees snapped to her chest as her arms looped around them, her body curling in on itself as a wave of nausea made her throat feel tight.

Still on his haunches before her, Cooper studied her for a solid moment before matching her position as he leaned against the opposite wall, his legs outstretched and his back straight against the cool stone.

"Fix yourself, darlin'. I'd offer but I don't think you want another monsters hands on you before the day's out."

Keeping her knees tight, Lucy brought trembling fingers to her chest - her relief at being saved having made her forget about her state of undress - and she tucked her breasts away back into the off-white bra with a lifeless motion, the skin feeling sensitive and sore due to their abuse. Made decent, her arms were quick to loop around her knees once more, her chin sitting atop her knees as a gloomy, far-off expression graced her features.

"Did they-" A half question which Cooper quickly thought better of as he abandoned ship and adjusted it on the fly. "You okay?" It was a quiet ask, the words so low that Lucy knew she could ignore them if she wanted to.

"No," she stuttered, feeling weary despite the adrenaline which still pulsed in her veins, "but I have to be because what else is there. So I have to be."

Making a small noise of agreement in his chest, Cooper's gaze rose to the ceiling as he plucked his hat from his head and dropped it to the floor by his open lap.

"That you do, darlin'. Nothing else for it."

They sat in silence for a bit, the only slightly pained sounds coming from Lucy's throat as she adjusted to the various aches which afflicted her body. Her face was the worst as her temple throbbed like a bitch and her burst lip felt huge and ugly against her mouth. The bodies forever doomed to lay in messy piles, Lucy's eyes ghosted over them and settled on the growing patches of blood which each steadily leaked to the cell floor.

"You killed them all?" She said, already knowing the answer and unsure why she even asked.

"Not all of them. One of them was already dead when I got here and I'd recognise the teeth marks in that hunk of ripped tongue anywhere." Despite the guarded nature of his tone, there was a spark of warmth as he flashed his, well, her, finger at her, and Lucy swore she heard the slightest hint of pride leaking through. "You did good, sweetheart. You fought like a hellcat and you didn't let them win."

"Didn't win." Lucy mumbled miserly. "You did."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would have gotten them both in the end. They might have taken a few strips from you, but that fire in your belly would have scorched them dry."

Mouth upturning at the praise as she fought off the urge to cry, Lucy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her breathing quickly grew erratic.

"All these bullshit lessons you've put me through and it still wasnt enough." She blurted out with a desperate gasp. "They're evil. I hate it here. I hate their cruelty. I hate their hurting. I hate-"

Finally unable to hold back the swell of emotion which threatened her, Lucy broke off on the final word as a heaving sob replaced any chance she had of cohesive speech. It was something raw and unfiltered, mourning the loss of some part of herself that would never be returned as she was forced to mold herself into a creature of violence and hate just to survive in their world.

Cooper, to his credit, let her cry without any false sympathies or interference. His face lacked any judgement, the hole in his face flexing slightly as he inhaled and exhaled steadily, eyes never shifting from Lucy's sobbing frame. Something difficult to pin down flashed through his gaze as though a multitude of possible outcomes were pushing at his thoughts.

After some internal debate, a grunt slipped free of Cooper's lips as he leaned across the short space and pulled at Lucy's shoulder.

So lost in her own misery, Lucy didn't fight the pressure of his strong hand as he pulled her to the side, dropping her to the floor in such a way that her head pressed against the upper part of his legs as she faced away from him. It did nothing to stop her tears, but it did give her something to lean on as he immediately retracted his hand to fold his arms fully across his chest.

Cooper's thighs were like unyielding steel beneath her head, giving Lucy something solid to pin her senses on as she fought to quell the quiver of her lip and the shudders which continued to wrack her body. Their journey had been hard and the hunt for her father was a disaster of interference and dead trails of information.

This was just the latest set-back in a long list of utter shit.

Offering her no other physical support, unsure if it would cause her to act out or break down further, Cooper waited until her breathing was a little more even before speaking again.

"Be sad." He paused, allowing the rare piece of advice to sit heavily in the air between them. "Be angry. Feel that fire in your gut burn so hot that you get the fear it's gonna burst free and raze everything around you to the ground. Hell, curse the day your momma brought you into the world if that's how you feel. But don't break."

Stopping once again, Cooper felt a rare moment of genuine pity for the woman as he glanced down at her. Lucy Maclean, who foolishly tried to choose peace in a peaceless world, still had a lot of learning to do when it came to the way that same world worked.

He could only show her so much, some lessons had to be learned the hard way, and if she could take them, then he would do his part to keep her whole.

"Whatever they do to you, survive it. Skulk off, lick your wounds, come back stronger. Get that revenge your blood sings for." Speaking as much to himself as her, Cooper allowed her a peek into his own thoughts, an insight he knew she wouldn't fully understand quite yet. "Never let them break you. Better off dead than broken in this world."

Gathering herself enough to shakily speak, Lucy gripped Cooper's knee with clawing fingers as she clung to him like a lifeline.

"There's more of them. Ten minutes up north. That's who they were- who they were going to sell me to."

"More side-tracking bullshit." Cooper sighed but his voice grew more contemplative as his gravelled tones mused on her words. "That said, been a while since I hunted down some proper vermin. No bounty. No rules. Might be fun to let loose for once."

He let the idea hang in the air, curious if she was hinting at what he suspected she was.

"You coming with me?"

"Yeah."

Unseen by the shaking Lucy, a pleased smile split Cooper's lips as he glanced down at her steady answer.

It wasn't often he took on a companion, far less one that he'd actually indulge, but the odd woman intrigued him with the hypocrisy of her very existence. A vaultie with a edge, naive blood screaming out for wrongs to be righted just like his own as she fought alongside him like a harpy.

It did help that they both wanted her dear old daddy strung up like the traitor he were.

But revenge would see her right.

She was owed a debt by those who had tried to take her, a debt of honor, and he would see that she avenged it in a glorious explosion of violence that would help keep her nightmares at bay as they would leave no doubt that the beasts responsible were well put down and unable to haunt her.

By gun or by knife, she would get at least that.

He had seen the broken ones. The ones used and abused by so many across the wastelands that they gave up everything and became husks even more devoid of humanity than the ghouls who lost the battle and went feral. It was a fate worse than the many deaths he'd experienced in his time.

No one deserved that.

Especially not Lucy Maclean.

His hand ghosting over her head, fingers only an inch away from her fine head of mousy hair, Cooper tilted his head to the side as he took her exhausted frame in.

"Sleep for now, vaultie. Time for this little killer to save her strength. So take it for what it is and when you wake, we'll see about righting some of the wrongs that happened here."

Feeling more safe with the violent ghoul who had shown her the new reality of her world than any other of the awful creatures she had met since leaving her vault, Lucy's eyes fluttered close as his voice washed over her and exhaustion claimed her before she could do anything to muse on that odd feeling of safety.

Links to the rest of the series:

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[kuroshitsuji-igurisshu]

The importance of details

𖤐Hello everyone Kuronians𖤐

To day I would like to tell you about a very interesting frame that can be seen in the fourth season of Kuroshitsuji. This frame made me realise the importance of details and how much Yanuzza takes care of his work.

As we can see, Ciel is in bed with the blanket covering him a little below his shoulder. He looks relaxed and we can tell this state because of his relaxed hand.The problem, however, is that Ciel would never sleep like that. A child who has been through something as traumatic as Ciel's would certainly not feel relaxed and comfortable in a strange place and with strange people. Rather, he would unconsciously seek some sort of 'protection', something that would shield him from reality, because as stupid as it sounds, falling asleep is not easy. Closing your eyes and resting means that you are relaxing and that you feel safe in the place where you are.

Yanuzza in the manga did not draw Ciel casually. First of all, the blanket covers him up to his shoulders, or rather, up to his neck, as if to shield him, to protect him from the outside, thus giving him the right reassurance. The hand is clenched into a fist, as if to indicate a certain rigidity due to the new situation he finds himself in.

When we sleep, we do not have control over our bodies, and precisely because of this, the positions in which we sleep can tell us a lot about ourselves because our bodies can reveal needs, fears and more.

The fact that Ciel sleeps in the fetal position is no coincidence, because people who sleep in this position often have a sort of unconscious desire to regress to childhood. Could this be the case for Ciel? Yes probably, considering that he was once happy. The point is not so much this but the fact that those who sleep in this position unconsciously seek protection. I find this last point very interesting indeed because it is precisely what Ciel lacked at the time....

Besides that, in the first volumes (Luxury Line arc) when we see Sebasian's memories, we can see the first night of the human cub at the mansion. He was completely wrapped up under the blankets (including his head) and if I remember correctly, this position is called the 'sarcophagus position' or a similar name that has to do with death anyway. It is not only a comforting position, but it really becomes a den, a safe place.

In the new season they have changed the position by unintentionally giving a new character to Ciel.Surely there will be people who think like me while others will say 'but it's just a frame'.

What do I think as a graphic designer studying at the Rainbow academy? (yes, the Winx) in the other animated series (excluding Atlantic) although the character design was immature (so much so that in certain scenes the characters from a distance had coloured dots as eyes) the details seem to me to have remained the same, but if it had been the other way round I would have turned a blind eye, after all the whole reflected the dark world of Kuroshitsuji. I certainly can't say the same about the new season since they changed both the colour palette and the character design.

For the umpteenth time since this new season came out, here I am again saying 'I am sorry that Yanuzza's work has been belittled' . I think that in order to understand certain things, one has to be 'in it', for example: to make my monogram and give it a story, I spent a good three months on it! Yes, three months for a monogram. As always, I'll be honest, I don't like the fact that she works her ass off for all these details (details that undoubtedly distinguish a story from one with dicks) details that are then not mentioned in the anime (not to mention the colours and other things because otherwise we'd be here a week)

For example, see how the real Ciel. It is the exact opposite of the position of "Ciel. If the brother is insecure enough to seek protection with blankets, Ciel doesn't give a damn about blankets. That is a position of one who is not afraid of anyone, a position that suggests a certain self-confidence, something that was missing in 'Ciel's' position.

I hope you enjoyed this post that makes us reflect on the details of the manga, a work that deserves much more because of the themes it deals with and the luxurious pain it is imbued with.

If you are curious to see more of my posts, you can find me on IG as Kuroshiutsuji_itaru 😈

[jokeroutsubs]

[NEW ENG TRANSLATION] Bojan Cvjetićanin, Joker Out frontman: The world's being destroyed by unhappy people, so we should try to bring happiness to as many people as possible

Original article Written by: Sonja Javornik 28.11.2021 English translation by: @varianestoroff proofread by: @flowerlotus8

With two sold-out concerts in Ljubljana's Cvetličarna (the second one will be broadcast on TV Slovenija on New Year), Joker Out proved that, after a long time, we have new idols for the youth. The two concerts in Cvetličarna sold almost 600 of their CDs.

The majority of their audience are girls, which isn't surprising, as the band consists of handsome, talented and smart lads. Bojan Cvjetićanin is the frontman of the band and also the author of most songs. The Sociology student fascinates in many ways, as, despite his young age, he's an excellent and knowledgeable interlocutor.

I was surprised by how enthusiastic senior fellow musicians are about your success. They say you bring hope that the music scene will spring to life again. I'm glad they don't see us as a threat, so it made me extremely happy to see their honesty. Last time, Boštjan Meglič¹ came up to me and told me with a genuine smile that we reminded him of their early days.

Yes, we can definitely compare you to Siddharta - but, after them, there hasn't really been a band to cause such hysteria and excitement. I can say that everything has worked out really well. COVID-19's impact on us was positive, as we couldn't wait for the first album. It was a big thing for us. Since it didn't make sense to release it when there were no gigs, we polished it and changed it in a way we're really satisfied with, and we can finally say for ourselves that we're a really good band. We have a great energy, we're all good musicians and our arrangements are good. We're a solid team.

Nowadays we don't seem to have as much patience as we used to, so it's good that this long pause hasn't demotivated you. Do you feel like there are other younger musicians who are willing to be patient to be successful, or are you more of an exception?

¹Boštjan Meglič is a founding member of Siddharta and plays drums in the band.

I dare say we've taken a very mature approach, covering all the aspects needed to make it work. We're always willing to play for free as opening act for exposure, without any financial demands. That felt like an understandable investment, and I think a few others are doing that too - bands like MRFY, Koala Voice... We also started to acknowledge how important the overall image is, because you also have to externally portray what you represent in the music. I think a lot of people underestimate that, or think of it as showing off, but clothes on stage are actually important, as we also act differently by putting on specific stage clothing. We put on things we really dig, and we don't look for inspiration in fashion magazines.

For sure, rockers in Slovenia tend to underestimate their image - maybe they're afraid of looking too pop. On the other hand, serious rockers have always put a lot of emphasis on appearance and distinctive clothing - think of Bowie, Freddie (Mercury), but also Guns N' Roses or AC/DC, who can't be counted as pop artists, for sure! Or Siddharta, for Slovenia. Could it be that you've made such a difference compared to other young bands because you don't do music as amateurs, instead you understand that also this business has its rules?

For sure. We realised that there's no shame in saying that this is our job. As long as being a musician is perceived as a hobby in this country, it'll remain a hobby. You're no less an artist if you make a living out of this!

When did you start taking care of your appearance? Would you have looked the same on the stage of Cvetličarna even before the COVID-19 epidemic?

We'd have a similar style, as we knew from the beginning that Joker Out had to work as a whole. For Cvetličarna we went to RTV studios and borrowed clothes. Our stylist Suzana Juršič was with us and helped us choose the right items.

On stage as sex symbols

When I met you backstage before your concert at Cvetličarna, you warned me not to miss the intro. And it was brilliant - you prepared a video intro. How so?

We hoped for an epic intro, but we couldn't picture what that would look like. Mark Pirc, who shoots our videos, quickly intuited what we thought, so we let him design the whole visual concept. Afterwards, he called us and told us that we needed special outfits, in which we then filmed the intro a few days before the concert.

You always mention regular colleagues, you must have an extended team, which is unusual in Slovenia, as everything tends to follow the 'do-it-yourself' principle - I'll do it myself, so I can spare the fee.

This comes from the 'hobby vision' I mentioned before. Everybody can do everything themselves to save money, we left other aspects to people who know best. We quickly realised that we needed to be surrounded by people who love us and understand what we want to become. Joker Out isn't just the five of us, but there's Mark, who makes videos, there's Sandi, the sound engineer, a lighting engineer, a photographer. The permanent part of the team is small. We also have a guy who helps us carry and set up the equipment, and we used to have a photographer for a while, but we don't anymore. We also have a PR rep.

What does it financially mean for you? Are you already in profit or do you still have losses because of the team?

Absolutely. The deficit's a big part of our narrative, and we still go deficit if we have to. We often have a headache when it comes to certain amounts, but we still go to the ATM as we believe in our story. And we go to the ATM a lot... (smiles)

All successful stories started with the band members investing their money because they believed in themselves - like Čuki, Siddharta... But really, not many are ready for a financial investment.

It could quickly happen that the risk's high and the reward's low. We're lucky we've never believed in failure. Our dream was to play on big stages, but the process never was a necessary evil for us. We enjoyed the climb. Well, there are still a few more climbs to go! We've made it up the first climb and are now on the first top cap...

Aren't you afraid this might already be the peak?

Honestly, I'm not afraid of this as I feel a lot of creative energy in me. With this album, we haven't said everything we want. Also, nobody's worried next album will be less successful. I dare say that, out of almost all alternartive artists, we're the ones who do the most ourselves and work like a well-oiled machine. Even our first album was successful commercially, which makes us very happy.

The album is available online, and you've also released a CD for fans. How many CDs have you sold?

I don't know the exact amount, I know we sold around 500 to 600 CDs just at the two concerts in Cvetličarna, which seems a lot to others.

We're surrounded by people who love us and understand what we want to become

Worry not, that's a huge number given the times. Do you feel like a sex symbol as, already by the second song, bras were flying on stage?

At first, we were very scared on the first night, as we waited a year and a half for this mythical moment. This certainly increased expectations, but also stress. I had a million different scenarios playing in my head, and then it happened...

Did you have any stage fright?

I had a weird stage fright. I wasn't afraid of going on stage, I didn't know what would happen afterwards. As we stood and waited, we heared everything happening on and off stage, so we went on stage quite scared and shocked. We couldn't realise all the enthusiasm was just because of us! The second night we went on stage already as sex symbols, that's how we really felt.

Are you the most popular with girls because you're the most exposed, probably?

Different sides have formed, so we're all satisfied. (smiles) When we post, we can't wait to see who people are rooting for, who's the sexiest...

Bigger stages than the one in Cvetličarna are waiting for you, but you've already played on smaller Slovenian stages over the summer. Was there such response as in the capital?

Everywhere we went, the response was really good. In Cvetličarna, people already knew lyrics that aren't even online yet! This didn't surprise us, as we knew that those who came to our summer gigs would also come to the other side of Slovenia for our concert. We have some fans who've been to more concerts than Kris, who missed two shows because he was travelling with his girlfriend! (laughs)

And you let him do it?

As at the time he had everything already booked, it couldn't be otherwise.

But I was angry at the time. Luckily, there's a fellow guitarist in Fat Butlers who we're very close with, and he was able to quckly jump in, as he knew our repertoire.

When someone really succeeds, that boosts the entire music scene. Even when Siddharta made it, the overall rock scene was in great shape, everyone was performing a lot. Do your young colleagues realise that you created opportunities for them too?

I know that the entire scene has really grown, but I can't say we're the reason for that. When we announced the Cvetličarna concert two years ago, our opening act Kokosy had just released their first songs. We chose them because they sounded extremely amusing during their performance at Škisova tržnica and had good energy. At the time, few knew this band, today they're already well established performers with quite an audience. Now also our audience knows them, so the vibes were really good during their performance.

Parents listened to Indexi and Bijelo Dugme. You come from a family of doctors. Are your parents upset that you didn't follow their path?

No, they're very happy. Mum's glad I didn't choose medical studies, dad would've been happy if I'd become a doctor too. But there's no hard feelings, as, with grandma, she's by far my biggest fan. Both go on YouTube every day and tell me how many views we make, when we'll be on the radio... I also have an older sister, who's an extremely diligent lawyer. She too is very proud of me.

So will your sister review all contracts to make sure some label or promoter doesn't scam you?

That's right. (smiles)

Your parents moved to Slovenia due to the Yugoslav Wars. Do you feel any bitterness, any trauma in your family because of this?

Both graduated medicine in Banjaluka, and came to Slovenia during the war, here they did their specialisation. Both consider Slovenia home, as here they felt accepted when they needed help. They never felt like foreigners. Sure, it was hard for them at the beginning, being foreigners in a shared country until recently², but, despite that, they successfully finished their specialisation and started a 'new life'. I never felt like a foreigner myself.

Have you ever been subjected to prejudice?

I went to a primary school with a few 'čefur'³. In Grade 8, only two students had excellent grades in Slovene - besides me, a classmate whose surname ended in -ić⁴. They probably didn't even know who came from where.

Nowadays, Balkan music's very popular among the youth. How did you keep up with it? Were you fond of it due to your roots?

Pretty much. When I was little, at home we had albums. As children, we listened to the music our parents listened to. Whether it was Indexi or Bijelo Dugme, we listened to that too. When I got my MP3 player, my sister too downloaded some songs, by Siddharta, Big Foot Mama, Trkaj and Murat & Jose. These four artists were my favourites and I could say they still are today, I still love the ex YU rock scene, especially the new wave.

²Bojan's family moved from Bosnia around 1992, the year in which the Bosnian government declared independence from Yugoslavia, a statal entity that administered the western Balkan peninsula for much of the 20th century.

³Čefur is a word with a pejorative connotation that denotes people from Slovenia who originate from other countries of the former Yugoslavia or are descendants of such immigrants.

⁴The suffix -ić is a very common way to form surnames in Slavic languages. It is a patronymic suffix, indicating 'descendant of' or a certain personal name. As in most cases, people with these surnames are Serbs or Croats, or descendants of these, said suffix turned into an indicator of one's ethnicity.

What we couldn't realise was that all the enthusiasm was just because of us

Did you start writing the texts in Slovene right away?

The first song was in English, and Martin still keeps its paper at home. The melody was good and I can use it, but the lyrics were terrible. I've never been able to write lyrics without a melody, so I write the melody first. Also, I've never written lyrics to a melody made by someone else. Except for the first one in English, I've written all the others in Slovene, and I only write when the inspiration hits me. That's when I sit and start working, and a new song comes out of that. I discard very few songs, if something isn't good, I usually find out after the first lines. I usually get carried away to the point where it progresses. I wrote the song 'Gola' differently at first, but I didn't like the chorus. Later Kris reminded me of it, and I knew immediately what to change to make it sound right.

So, are you quite self-critical?

It's true. Sometimes I like something a lot at first, but within a week it doesn't satisfy me. Then I'm sad, because I disappointed myself, and I discard it.

But the Serbo-Croatian language market is much bigger than the Slovenian one. Have you also written songs in Serbian or Croatian, which you certainly know thanks to your roots?

Not all of them, but I'm working on adapting the whole album. It's easier to write songs in Slovenian, but it's true that I never started writing songs in Serbo-Croatian either. I tried to write one song in Serbian, but it sounded so bad melodically that I quickly gave up.

How often do you visit Banjaluka?

I used to go there a lot as a child and teenager, but not much since the epidemic, so I miss it a lot. I miss my grandmother who lives there. We live partly in the city and partly in the country, and it's the country that I miss the most. Everything is so pristine there. Everything is the same as when I was a kid, even the people are the same. In rural Bosnia, there are no things that can hurt or disappoint you.

Well, politicians continue to fuel nationalism in Bosnia, so it's always tense.

I love Banjaluka, but, since I grew up, the atmosphere has been tense all the time, so I don't like that environment. I'm worried for my grandma who lives there, as times aren't looking good and things can snap quickly. In the countryside, luckily, you don't feel this.

Can music and your message help improve this world? Do you think you can change something with music?

Unhappy people are destroying the world, so we can try to make as many people as possible happy. I think spreading love and positivity is the best we can do. Goran Bregović⁵ said in an interview that he stopped believing that music could change the world when all the musicians and cultural figures united, but were unable to stop the war. I think it isn't the job of us musicians to spread world peace, but we can try to make people happy, as happy people won't cause wars.

⁵Goran Bregović is a Bosnian musician and composer.

[thelightsandtheroses]

five: we'd only die of lonely secrets

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter Summary: Your relationship with Joel hits some challenges when something happens with Ellie. Meanwhile, Gabe has some questions for Sean. Word Count - 3466 Chapter Warnings - mentions of self-harm (Ellie burns herself to cover her bite as in canon and the reader discovers her afterwards), mentions of secrets, disagreements, discussion of a child’s parentage, reader is a single mum of a teenager, possibly warnings for implied cults, 18+ blog MDNI Notes: I’m sorry for the delay in updating  - this chapter marks a little change in the fic and some drama and angst is coming but it’s been planned for a very long time. I really hope you will stick with it! Chapter title is from the National song the System Only Dreams In Total Darkness

Previous | Series | Next

Being with Joel feels like second nature.  It doesn’t move too fast or slow, your relationship feels like a natural progression. It’s inevitable and undeniable and it feels good. Really good.

In the weeks that have passed since you and Joel officially first got together, since you turned up at his house that night, you’ve grown stronger. Gabriel and Ellie know about you both now, people around Jackson have stopped gossiping as much about the two of you.

You’re taking things slowly; spending no more than one or two nights at each other’s a week, telling yourselves that it’s okay to slow down a bit now, that you have time. It doesn’t feel like you have time when you’re alone though; then it’s still desperate hands and lips and barely repressed moans.

You thought you knew what life in Jackson was for you now. Joel’s changed things.

The leaves in Wyoming are changing too; the foliage has become bright orange and  yellow. It’s a sign of their incoming death and decay but it’s beautiful. You can’t help but be taken in by the colours and vivid beauty of the state you now live in. In Kansas, the city was built up and you hardly saw surroundings like this. Even when the leaves are dying, they’re still more beautiful than barricades and blockades.

You carefully check your reflection in the hallway mirror as you zip up your jacket.

After several artfully rearranged dates, Joel and you have been instructed to have dinner with Maria and Tommy. It shouldn’t be stressful; they’re your friends after all, but they’re Joel’s family and this feels like a test of your emerging relationship.

“Really mum?” Gabriel asks, leaning on the banister and smirking at you. His hair is getting long and in his favourite hoodie he looks younger for a moment, more like the little boy you remember. Not that you can say that to his face.

“Whatever do you mean?” you ask in mock ignorance.

“You nervous?”

”Of course not.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at you. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve done the dinner with the family thing. It’s always been the other way around.”

“It’s Maria and Tommy,” he replies indignantly, shaking his head. “They were like, your friends before Joel even came here. Surely you’ve got the dibs here.”

“They’re his family.”

“They’re your friends.”

“I know. I’m relaxed, honest.” you reply, trying to hide your nerves as best as you can. You’re used to this being the other way around; to the dinners being with your family and this feels unfamiliar and daunting.

“So why are you wearing your best clothes?”

“Maybe, I just wanted to?”

“Uh-huh.” Your son shakes his head. “Well, hope you have fun anyway.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

You hear a knock at the door and Gabe raises his eyebrows at you, not moving from his position on the stairs and instead sitting down on a stair with a sly smirk.

You open the door and smile widely at Joel. He’s wearing a deep blue chambray shirt and jean. You can’t help but notice how suspiciously clean his boots are too.

“Well look at you,” you say as he steps into the hallway.

“Hi,” he replies, nodding his head at Gabe as well. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Hey,” Gabe replies as he observes Joel, carefully looking him over as well. “Not you as well,” he mumbles which cause you burst out laughing as Joel looks at you in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” you say, grateful for a sudden distraction as Beau steps out from the kitchen, nodding at Joel in greeting.

“You on patrol tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, Tommy and I got roped into an extra shift. Well, Tommy did and he signed me up.”

“Gotta love family for that,” Beau says with a laugh.

“Tell me about it,” Joel replies, shaking his head and raising his hands in the universal ‘what can do you do’ pose.

“Why are there extra shifts?” your son asks.

“Signs of infected, or … signs we ought to be a little more vigilant with our patrols for a couple of days,” Beau says and looking at your son’s face, quickly adds, “We’re not adding extra patrols for people in school, not right now. It’s just a precaution.” Joel looks at your face briefly and then back at Beau.

“Oh, okay.” You wish your son didn’t sound disappointed at the prospect of not being needed on additional patrols. He’s growing too quickly; in your mind he’s still this tiny baby you could hold with one hand and now he’s a man, creeping ever closer to adulthood by the minute.

“Right, we should head out.” You make your way over to Gabriel, briefly hugging him despite his falsified reluctance. “Love you,” you say in a quiet voice so the others can’t hear and squeezing him one last time before stepping away.

When you step outside your house, Joel clasps your hand, pulling you close to him on the porch.

He kisses you tenderly, wrapping one arm around you before you both head towards Tommy and Maria’s.

“You look real pretty today,” he says, emphasising the southern drawl that lingers in his voice. There’s mischief and desire and something else in his eyes. You’ve taken in the details on his face and committed them to your heart now. Each freckle, sunspot or scar has been logged over nights and mornings and stolen moments.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, leaning into his touch. “We could change our mind -”

“Head to the bench?”

“Or yours. Either works for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m just saying that we have an evening to ourselves and maybe we could do something else.”

“It sounds like an option. Probably for the best, Tommy’s really only good with a barbecue. Lived off our leftovers or takeout back in the day.”

“So you were the cook?”

Joel flushes. “I wouldn’t go that far. I - Sarah cooked too. I worked a lot.“

“Oh yeah?” you ask casually. You only learnt about Sarah recently under similar circumstances, a quick slip of the tongue, a panicked expression and then a brief confession. Joel’s experienced a loss you never want to truly understand, but one you need to try and empathise with.  “You were a contractor, right?”

Joel raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Ellie told you that?”

“Oh, yeah. Ellie was extremely proud to tell me about you being a contractor Before. She seems to think it was a real popular job back then.”

Joel looks down, stifling a laugh. “I mean - you can’t argue it’s not better than being a politician, right?”

You smirk. ”Only just.”

Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter as you approach Tommy and Maria’s. “I’ll remember that,” he teases. “For that, we’re definitely not skipping dinner.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I respect the art of carpentry, and spirit levels and building stuff? Fixing stuff?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Spirit levels, really?”

“I didn’t hang around a lot of construction sites.”

“Good thing too. Right, let’s get this thing over with so I can get you back to mine.”

“Why Mr Miller, anyone would think you have plans for me.”

Joel smirks wickedly. “You’ll have to find out,” he whispers, kissing you briefly on the lips before knocking on Tommy’s door.

The sun is still rising as you approach the back porch of your home the following morning. The town is lit in a rosy glow; everything is softer, more mellow.

“I’m sick of feeling like she’s keeping secrets from me is all,” Gabe says, kicking the edge of the porch half-heartedly.

“She’s your mum, that’s just - that’s just being a parent. I don’t - I don’t think there’s any big secrets.” You steel yourself for a blow that never comes, for Sean to add something.

“But she never talks about him. I don’t know anything. You don’t say anything either, neither does Uncle Beau. No one talks about it.”

“I know. It’s - it was a difficult time, Gabe, none of us want to go back to then.”

“It’s not like when it had just happened - you know, you can’t just say that, Uncle Sean. I only want to know something - I want to feel like there’s not just this question mark over who my dad was. I know what happened to him and I know loads of kids who had the same thing happen but their parents tell them about the other one, they have photos or memories they talk about,” Gabe pauses and adds, “I want to feel like I had a dad. I’ve never ever seen a photograph of him. Do I even look like him? I know it upsets mum to talk about it. That’s why I’ve come to you.”

You can feel the tears building in your eyes, the stabbing ache in your stomach at your son’s words, at his plaintive desperate voice. What have you done? What are you continuing to do?

There’s a silence as you try and work out if you should intervene, if you should say something and join this conversation or if you’d only make things worse.

“I was there when you were born,” Sean says in a low voice that you can hardly hear.

“What?”

“I helped deliver you,” he says and you watch the way he puts a hand on Gabe’s back as your son sits next to him. 

“I did not need to know that. I get it, okay. I know you and Uncle Beau - but that’s not the point.”

“I know it’s not, but I’ve been there for every milestone of your life. So’s your Uncle Beau. You have never been without love for a second. Your mum would do anything for you. She’s our family, you are our family. It might not feel enough, but it’s the best I can give you. I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a dad with you growing up, but you got me and Uncle Beau and that’s like double what most kids get.”

“Really? That’s your argument here?”

“It worked when you were seven.”

You hear the snort of laughter.

”Mum seems happier,” he says, ”She really likes Joel, I can tell.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s a good thing. She’s - she deserves to be happy too. That’s why we all came here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Joel seems decent enough and I like him better than her ex already.”

“What an endorsement,” Sean says with a laugh.

“Whatever, I’m heading inside.”

“Okay.”

You watch your son head back inside and after a moment dare to step forward. A twig snaps under your feet and Sean instantly looks alert, his hands poised by his jeans pocket. 

“It’s you,” he says as you approach. “Shit, how much did you hear?” Sean asks.

“Enough.” You lean your head back and sigh. “Thank you.”

“He’s not stopping, sweetie, he’s a clever kid. He knows we’re keeping something back.”

”I don’t get it.”

“I do. If I was keeping something from you, would you keep asking or let it go?”

“That’s-”

“He’s your kid for sure.”

“So, what it’s my fault for not talking about him enough?”

“I think we didn’t mean to, but we’ve made him realise there’s more to the story and so of course, he won’t let that go.”

“So what do I do?”

“We could -”

“That’s not an option,” you say firmly, arms folded. “We swore we’d never tell him about The Junction.”

“Well, that was when he was five and still fucking believed in the tooth fairy. I just think - maybe, I get it, I so get it, but maybe we’ve made it worse by not talking about it. About any of it.” Sean looks sad for a moment. “We put those years in a box, but they still happened.”

“We’ll figure something out, won’t we?” You feel so small all of a sudden; every moment of confidence, of happiness in the dinner at Tommy and Maria’s, your night with Joel has evaporated. You hug your arms around yourself and look up at the stars.

“Of course we will,” Sean says. ”So, uh, tell me about the dinner.“

You sit next to him and lean your head on his shoulder before you start to talk to your best friend.

You can’t remember if Joel’s due back from his day’s work yet. Him and Tommy were out on that extra patrol because there had been reports of potential infected or raiders nearby. You thought it might be good to

You hear a faint cry and muffled scream from somewhere in the house.

Ellie.

It’s automatic and primal, your instincts kick in as you open the door and run up towards the commotion in the kitchen.

You have no idea what you will find in the house - you prepare for an infected, an intruder, anything.

Somehow you didn’t even consider this though.

Ellie is standing over the sink and her arm - you think it’s cut. Then you realise.

It’s a burn.

Her arm is burning.

There’s a turned over bottle of kitchen chemicals next to the sink and you notice how your legs feel unsteady beneath you. You try and remember the basic first aid, the things you are supposed to and not do.

She needs you.

”Oh shit,“ she says, seeing your face. “I - I uh, spilt it. I didn’t - shit. It really fuckin’ hurts.” She looks so young, so scared and vulnerable at this moment.

“Okay, we’ve got this, Ellie. It’s all going to be okay.”

You exhale and then move.

You’re waiting for Joel. Ellie’s okay, her arm is clean and you’ve bandaged it as best as you can. There are hundreds of small alarms going off in your head. Something feels off about this incident; Ellie’s evasive, hiding something.

“Ellie - I -”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you - is everything okay, Ellie?”

“I just burnt my fucking arm so -” Ellie pauses. “Sorry - I’m okay, I’m fine. It’s uh, a good thing you were passing by.”

“When’s Joel due back?”

“Hey Ellie?” You ask, nervously twisting the edge of your shirt around your fingers. “Is - everything okay at home? Or school?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Why?”

You look at Ellie carefully, trying to sculpt your features into a clear message of ‘you can talk to me’. “I’m worried about you.”

“It was an accident,” Ellie says, looking at you with a piercing stare. “I was trying to clean the sink and -”

“Since when do you clean the sink?”

“Well, now we know why I don’t.” She reaches to touch the bandage and you shake your head.

“Try not to touch it. I don’t want it to get infected.”

“Okay.”

“You - you’re sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes!

Perhaps it’s foolish to think children can just be children these days, you’ve tried to shield Gabriel from so much. Maybe Ellie ….maybe she couldn’t be? You know enough about Ellie to know she’s an orphan, that her and Joel teamed up in Boston and that she’s become his family since then, his daughter.

Before you say anything else, Joel walks in. His face lights up when he sees you and Ellie only to very quickly fall when he sees her arm. He moves over to her quickly, his face wan and wrought with worry as he gets on his knees to examine her bandaged arm. “What the hell happened?”

“Ellie was cleaning the sink; she spilt the chemical on herself.”

“What?” Joel looks like he wants to be sick. He keeps looking at her arm and then at Ellie’s face.

“It was an accident,” Ellie says before looking over at you,  “Luckily you were stopping by and you turned out to be pretty good with first aid.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m hardly a doctor.”

“Thank you,” he says with relief, sitting back on his knees.

“She looked after me. She was really nice,” she adds in a quiet voice. “She uh - washed it and then dressed it and - I’m, I’m going to head upstairs to do some homework.”

“Ellie -”

There’s a moment of silence after Ellie leaves the room. The only sound is Joel’s bones creaking as he gets up from the floor and sits on the sofa.

You move to the armchair next to him, your heart racing as you know you need to say the words you’ve been thinking since you walked into his home today.

“I’m worried she hurt herself on purpose,” you whisper, hands clasped soberly in your lap.

Joel freezes. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“I know you think that -”

“I’ll talk to her, okay?” There’s something in his eyes, some small sense of recognition or something that you can tell he’s keeping from you.

“What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can tell there’s something, Joel, give me some credit. I’ve survived long enough to read faces.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re reading me wrong.”

“Joel, I - what are you keeping from me?”

“Don’t.” You understand where Gabe gets it from now. You can tell there’s more to this story and you want to push at it, poke the scab until it bleeds, know the truth because you only imagined a hundred terrible stories until you know this.

You’re both standing now, both looking at each other with equal parts desperation and concern. “Talk to me, Joel. I thought you trusted me -”

“You think you get to know everything right away? I have been honest with you, sweetheart, and I like you a lot. I didn’t think I’d find someone so - but that doesn’t mean you’ve got the right to ask that?”

“Joel -”

“I have never pushed you about your past, about your secrets. I have trusted you; I’ve let you into my home, my - Ellie’s home too.”

You feel your face heat with shame. “I just - I was worried about Ellie.”

“You don’t need to worry about her,” Joel snaps, “That’s my job.”

“Oh, fuck you, Joel.”

Joel swallows and exhales slowly. “I don’t wanna fight with you, please leave this. I swear I will tell you what you need to know.”

“I don’t want you to decide what I need to know.” There are moments, memories that rise to the surface like bile. You can’t fall into that trap again.

“Then what do you want? Total honesty, because that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

The conversation you overheard between Sean and Gabe flashes in your head, the many secrets you have kept from so many people, including Joel, over the years.

 Sometimes you wonder if you’ve told so many half-truths, you’ve forgotten what actually happened in the past now. If all that’s left are lightly edited ghosts of a life half-lived.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” you whisper.

“I can - I promise you that I would never hurt Ellie, or you, or Gabriel.” He swallows. “Not ever consciously at least. I can promise you that right here and right now. Is that enough? Can that be enough?”

“I - okay.”

“Okay.”

You reach out and meet Joel in the middle, letting him wrap his arms around you. “I’ll talk to Ellie, okay? I promise.”

“Thanks.”

You shrug your bag to your other shoulder around you as you lock the library door behind you. It’s still light outside but there’s a chill starting that shows that twilight is on its way. 

You turn around, ready to go home, when you notice there are two people standing ahead of you.

Sean and Beau are looking at you with grave expressions.

You take in Sean’s appearance first. His hands are fiercely dug into his hoodie pockets, he’s looking down and the way his leg is nervously shaking rings all too many alarm bells.

“Where’s Gabe?” you ask automatically, looking frantically around. Where is your son? What has happened to him?

 “It’s not about him,” Sean says with a devastated voice and somewhere you know you’re starting to piece this together. For Sean and Beau to look at you like this, for your best friend to be acting this way, there’s only a few things it could be. This isn’t normal - something is terribly wrong.

“Beau, just tell me. Please!”

Beau doesn’t say anything immediately, he looks at Sean and then sighs. After a second, he produces a small piece of paper out of his jeans pocket, unfolding it carefully.

It’s such a small piece of paper; you wonder what on Earth is on this, what could possibly cause such distress to both Sean and Beau.

There’s a sick feeling rising in your stomach, the sense of someone pulling a thread tightly around your organs.

“We need to talk about the Junction,” Beau says flatly, showing you the simple design on the paper that instantly sends your heart lurching to your stomach.

Oh.

Oh.

You knew things were going too well.

Tag List

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Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[uptoolateart]

The Miraculous Child

So, in 'Representation', Felix talks refers to ‘the miraculous boy’ a couple times. He also calls Adrien’s conception ‘a miracle’, meaning Adrien too is ‘miraculous’.

The second I heard this, it hit me that the title of the show has had this extra meaning from day one. If we look right back to the start of the series, it has been a story about children and adults, especially parents, some a little overbearing (like Tom) and some neglectful or downright abusive.

The message I take away is - life, bringing a child into the world, is a miracle. Science tells us how it works, but the fact that it works is almost like magic. Yet, there are people out there who fail to see this and don't value the gift they've been granted.

There will be people reading this and thinking, ‘Yeah? So what about Chloe?’

I hear you.

Audrey is a terrible person, and Andre is no better. When he hauls her off at the end of ‘Revolution’ and says he needs to correct his mistakes, he just sends her away with her mother. He’s washing his hands of ‘a problem’, just like he’s done with everything else, e.g. when he resigned as mayor. He walked away from responsibilities, after creating a mess for the people who voted him into office. Likewise, he walked away from his responsibilities as a father.

Does that excuse Chloe's behaviour towards others, especially Marinette? No. Does it explain it? Yes.

So, let's talk about choice, which has been mentioned several times in the series. Chloe has a choice to become just like one of her parents...or to become something better.

Because, if you think about it, at some point in time, Audrey and Andre and even Gabriel were all children. And children aren't just born nasty. They learn nastiness as they grow up. To become who they are today, they had to have started out in a similar position to Chloe, for example. They represent the potential future for their children.

If we saw them as kids, we'd probably see them being mistreated by the adults in their lives and we'd all sympathise with them and hope for their redemption. But we're seeing them as adults and our instinct is to say oh well, too late, they're just awful people. In fact, they could redeem themselves at any point, as demonstrated by Nathalie's turnaround in Season 5. It's just that, the more awful things you've done, the more you have to atone for. Gabriel would have to do a lot - maybe even have a brain change - to be redeemed. But you see my point.

So, at the end of 'Revolution', we see Chloe at a crossroads. She's on that plane, annihilated by her mother, and hiding by herself in a corner. She browses her contacts and hovers over Sabrina's entry...and her face crumples like her heart is breaking with regrets. Oh, it’s sad.

But she passes over Sabrina and moves onto Marinette. She makes one last attempt to bring her down. It’s an act of desperation – redirecting her own suffering onto another, trying to keep control over things when she’s completely out of control of her own life.

Marinette finally puts her in her place, and we see Chloe fall apart in a real way - for the first time ever. I don't know about you, but I found that very uncomfortable viewing. It was a relief to see Marinette stand up for herself, and it needed to happen...but Chloe's despair was also painful. I think all of those were emotions were intended.

Let’s set Thomas aside here. I don't want to get into debates about what was said on Twitter. He’s not the only writer for the show, anyway. I am just speaking about my personal perception of that scene. Chloe gained heaps of sympathy, after she’d been appalling all season, which was pretty powerful.

The fact is…Chloe needed to be put in her place. But that doesn’t mean she deserved everything she went through. Even so...sometimes these moments are necessary and revelatory. They can be the catalyst for great change.

What I mean is – if you're in denial about your position, redirecting your pain onto others, sometimes you need that wakeup call. You need to hit rock bottom in order to start climbing back up into the light. So, when Chloe fell apart, it was painful...but I also saw it as her potential turning point. As long as she maintained her delusions to escape into at school, it was impossible for her to transform - because she refused to see that there was any change needed. But when you have nothing left…that’s when you might begin rebuilding yourself.

Every episode in Season 5 has had multiple meanings. Looking at 'Revolution', when Chloe was akumatised, she trapped her victims in a maze, going round in endless circles (revolutions). Notably a lot of them were adults.

I think if this had happened early on in Season 4, Adrien would have been trapped morosely in that loop with the others. We saw this kind of thing in 'Guiltrip'. So, it spoke volumes about his growth as a character when he was the first one to seek a way out of Chloe's maze. He immediately used his cataclysm and broke a hole, escaping and letting everyone else out. Metaphorically, what he did was break the cycle. If we think about cycles of abuse, this is what the next generation always has the chance to do - to revolt against the past.

it's interesting, then, that when we got to 'Representation', we saw Cat Noir completely lose it with his father. He needed to let it all out...but he was in danger of going too far...and deep down, he knew it. His worst nightmare was of losing all control, to the point of letting his rage destroy everything he loved. Unconsciously, he's well aware that he runs the risk of becoming like his father. However, his complete breakdown, begging his father to take his miraculous to make it all stop, tells us he won't become like his father - because his conscience is too strong. He wants to break that cycle.

Felix has also done some bad things - but he's begun the journey of redeeming himself and changing. He too is trying to break out of that cycle so he doesn't become like his father.

Kagami is embracing her passionate side, rejecting the coldness and isolation her mother has attempted to breed into her, no doubt due to her own upbringing once upon a time.

And I think there’s definite potential for Chloe to do the same. There’s no reason for anyone to remain caught in these patterns. The trick is to recognise the pattern is there in the first place - because you can’t break free of something if you don’t know you’re imprisoned. At the end of Revolution, I think Chloe finally saw her prison, saw that she was already trapped in her own maze, going round in circles. Now it’s up to her to pull an Adrien and cataclysm the bars that hold her in.

Because like Felix said, over and over – each child is miraculous simply for existing. And miracles should be cherished.

PLEASE NO POST-REPRESENTATION SPOILERS IN COMMENTS :)

[ivomartins]

I see many people consider Dmitry a redflag LI but to me he's a morally grey character: he finds a strange girl amidst the rift and assigns her a place in the squad instead of, you know, just taking Lane hostage when she's made it clear she's pursuing her own goals and only compels to the squad's decisions because she has to.

I understand why the interrogation episode is icky for many people but for me the devil is in details: Dmitry stops the interrogation because he doesn't want to hurt Lane further, and the whole situation can be seen as a necessary evil from the squad's pov, given Lane's actions. And at the same time, Lane doesn't deserve that shit either: she's all alone in a trust-no-one situation, and now she sees very clearly that the squad is not her friends.

To me that's what moral greyness is: different interpretations of the situation, when you can see motivation of both parties without whitewashing them.

Dmitry's conversation about turning your weakness into your strength adds another facet to his character, just like the stolen babushka gift 😭. I love the way Alexandra shows that he actually cares about Lane through him wanting to give her a chocolate bar or helping her with the work and sacrificing his sleep.

And the soulmatism of their branch is so well done. It's not "your mc is promised to this LI although you'd rather have her killed him in a cold blood" but "yes the situation we found themselves in is fucked up and bleak but at least we have each other because in another universe we'd pass each other by without looking back"

And I love how you can see Dmitry lashing out in the latest episodes, with more and more people in the squad dying, because he's responsible for their lives, he's the leader. And you, as a player, can choose Lane's reaction to his behaviour.

But the thing that truly made me sympathize with him is him telling Lane "It would be sad to lose my humanity while hunting for monsters and become one in other people's eyes. I hope I haven't cross that line yet?.."

That's how you write morally grey characters! 🙌

P.S. His latest CG fucks

i'm shook tbh that some people consider dmitry a red flag LI 😭 like yeah. the interrogation scene was iffy and lane didn't deserve that. but the world has literally gone to shit and this is a man who's been forced by circumstances to blur the lines of his morality for the greater good and the safety of the people around him ??? when we take that and the post-apocalyptic survival-of-the-fittest setting into consideration, plus the fact that lane was sus from day 1 and didn't really make any effort to prove herself trustworthy, the interrogation makes perfect sense

and like you said the morally grey nature to dmitry is the most interesting thing about him especially when it ties into the development of his bond with lane like !!!! with cain there's affinity in their position as outcasts and the apathetic nature they share, suspended above everything, untouched by what otherwise jars everyone else in the squad

but with dmitry their affinity lies in dmitry having a different nature to lane and still being drawn to her despite that, still accepting her to the point where she points a fucking gun at his head and he doesn't even flinch 😭 and doesn't even hold it against her later on like ??? there's so much devotion and unconditional acceptance to it and for me personally as someone who's on the whisper path it's definitely giving "the hero loving the monster and cherishing their blood-soaked hands" kinda dynamic

like it's "human" organic soulmatism like you called it, to balance out the otherworldly ambiguous soulmatism with cain. ugh i can't enough of it

i also love how he's been lashing out too and that not even lane has been exempt from that because he's just under that much pressure. i just adore how every single character has been written with their own role to play in the story, completely independent from lane, and they all get to develop just as much as she does as the story goes on 🥹

(and yes his cgs have been superior, even to cain, since day 1. i will die on that hill)