#The only think I can think of that they haven't done is like.. look look at the actual like.. situation in there

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Enough Is Enough - LN

Request from @littlemissfran - Hey, could you write something about Lando being in a super private nearly secret relationship. So people kinda only know he is in a relationship but not who she is and then being spotted with one female friend which starts dating rumours (like the whole magui situation) And lando having to kinda post something about him being in a relationship bc they get frustrated with those rumours

No part 2 requests please

The only evidence of Lando's relationship was verbal conversation and two pictures on his Lando.jpg. One of her nails done with LN4 logo with a papaya colour and the other one being of her almost entirely hidden under a hotel duvet.

Fans have even actively been looking through his instagram to see if he follows her and for her own sake her doesn't. They also make attempts to inspect every possible person spotted around McLaren. Which is really a fool's game.

But his burner account does follow her, thankfully that's on private.

Y/n also still lives and spends a large portion of her time in England.

But Lando does everything to see her and on occasion she'll come over to Monaco. Thankfully incognito and with them exclusively spending time together in his apartment, there's no chance of the camera capturing them on a night out in Monaco.

"You should come." P tries as y/n sits on Lando's sofa. The plan to go out with Max, P and a few other friends being on the agenda for Lando's short stint home before he's back out for the China GP.

"No...you know the rules." Y/n smiles while P pouts looking at Max who doesn't even bother to give her the time of day in helping to convince y/n to join them.

"You are always left out it's not fair."

"If I can get over it. I'm sure you can, P." Y/n assures her while Lando appears freshly showered and dressed immediately being harassed by P about the fact he's not dragging y/n out with them.

"You think I haven't tried. I've love to have her with us." Lando states while sighing as he looks at y/n who smiles. "Are you sure?"

"And miss the opportunity to swap the order of your helmets around on the shelves to see if you could put them back to the way you have them? Not a chance." Y/n teases earning a grin before he leans down and kisses her. "I have to do some work anyway, my boss has me on the grind even when I'm out the country."

Lando grumbles at that, hating the idea of his girlfriend being overworked. But he knows she wants to work, in fact work is one of the bigger players in keeping them so private over any other reason.

"I don't know anyone who would choose to be a rich man's personal assistant." Max comments making y/n look at him in amusement and Lando look at him in annoyance. He always gets defensive over any negative comment about y/n even if it's a joke from his childhood best friend.

"Well long term plan is to seduce and marry, Lando's just a place holder." Y/n smirks earning a warning swat on her knee since it's a running joke.

"We'll be back quite late, text me if you need anything or just want me home early. I'll ditch them." Lando states earring a laugh.

"Charming, you know they're your guests."

"Not my girlfriend though. Don't work too hard."

"No point, it's past April I've already got my bonus for the year." Y/n giggles as he leans over for another kiss.

"Smarter not harder." Lando hums recalling her life rule when it comes to quite literally anything.

-

Lando being sober because he's driving meant that he had to deal with the jolly tipsiness of all those who were around him. Though he'd realised how much it sucked not having her there.

So when he got home and found y/n asleep, her laptop on the bed, her bosses schedule with tabs of confirmation for flights, hotels, contacts, emails, all the things she handles for the man. Even shopping lists and god knows how manage messages between them. He's not even sure how she manages to look through all this stuff.

"Ok, baby." Lando sighs closing the laptop and kissing the side of her face which stirs her from the depth of sleep.

"Lando?"

"Yeah, that's me." Lando smiles making her roll over and looking at him as he places her laptop on her side.

"Did you come back early?" Y/n mumbles as he moves back helping her in a bit of a pathetic attempt to try and shift so she's actually under the blankets.

"No. You fell asleep working. Even-"

"Don't lecture me like a bore." Y/n smiles cheekily making him huff and sigh at her. "I had to book some last minute flights for him to go see his wife's fashion show in Milan. Be happy he's not demanding I go with him. He's taking assistant B with him."

"Ok, enough about work."

"Yeah, tell me about the night." Y/n hums and smiles when he does as requested. Listening to Lando talk about the night while he undresses before lying down with her. "Sounds like you spent the night surrounded by girls. Should I be jealous?"

"As if."

"I meant of you. Surrounded by girls sounds like a fun position to be in." Y/n giggles before rolling over so she's lying half on top of him while he rolls his eyes at her. "Can we sleep now? I'm really tired."

"Yes."

-

Morning rolls around, leaving Lando and y/n as the last people to wake up. But when they door Max looks annoyed and P looks a little upset.

"Oh god, have you two been arguing while we've been asleep?" Lando questions checking his meal prep from Jon.

"Don't go online mate." Max states making y/n immediately pull out her phone to check only for Lando to snatch it and quite literally shove it down his shorts as he sits.

"I don't know why you think that's effective. My hands have been there before." Y/n laughs earning groans from the other couple. "So is someone going to explain?"

"The world thinks Lando is dating Magui again." Max states making Lando curse and huff from his seat while y/n shrugs. "We did go to the Masters with her."

"I-She's a friend. I sat next to you-"

"They don't care about me when it comes to your relationship, mate." Max sighs before y/n dives her hand down and grabs her phone before running.

Lando hates-really hates when y/n sees the posts about any relationship he's supposedly in with any one of the women he's spotted with. Y/n always wants to see it so she knows exactly what she's getting herself involved with.

It's actually the one thing that is hard about their relationship. Y/n sometimes tries to use humour to cope.

"Y/n!" Lando exclaims rushing after her but she locks herself in the bathroom.

Y/n scrolls through the clips from the Masters, the videos from last night, pictures with fans. Oh he was seen by everyone.

"Wow." Y/n whispers since if she wasn't his girlfriend, she'd certainly believe it too.

"Y/n! Open the door." Lando groans making her sigh and unlock the door. She hates that she feels like shit over false rumours and lies made up by assumptions and people who don't even know her or even really know Lando. "Baby?"

Her expression and mood reads easily, Lando can see the hurt she's trying to hide and as if it isn't already bad enough they both know she's got a couple hours before she needs to fly back to London.

"I'm just sort of sick of this." Y/n sighs rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry."

There's a moment that Lando feels his heart still, looking at her.

Even Max and P eavesdropping from the other room exchange a wide eyed look in a panic and P even goes to stand and intervene only for Max to shake his head since this is something for Lando and y/n to handle.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Lando questions while she swallows thickly.

"Sorry for being upset about...something that's out you're control." Y/n frowns making him deflate and relax a little since he really thought she might be breaking up with him.

"I'm sorry baby." Lando whispers making her head her head. "I'm sorry that they-they think who I date is any of their business. But I'm putting an end to this."

"Lando..." Y/n mumbles but he only kisses her softly and smiles lightly at her.

"I'm going to tell them to shut the fuck up." Lando states earning a small laugh.

"What does that even mean?" Y/n laughs making him grin.

"Do you trust me?"

"If I didn't then I'd be believing them assuming that you're dating all those other women."

"Mmm...I'll write a statement, I'll let them know that they are never going to be privileged enough to know my girlfriend and if they catch me with someone then they should know it's not you because you're just too good for them to really think it'd be that easy."

"Wow. You're going to tell them that?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to make a helmet designed by you-and you can put your choice of words on there for them too." Lando grins making her laugh.

"Are you allowed swear words on your helmet?"

"Mmm...that angry?"

"I'm not exactly impressed. It's getting a bit repetitive." Y/n sighs earning a small nod of understanding.

"Can I ask you something?" Lando whispers knowing P and Max would freak out if they overheard this part.

"Yes."

"It doesn't have to be a promise of soon, or even ever really. But if you say yes when I propose...can we maybe start being less private?"

"When?" Y/n smirks making him roll his eyes. "Not if but when?"

She has to tease him, poke at him about something. She can't help it but it does improve the mood a lot.

"Yes. We can start being less private. When that happens."

"Ok, that's a plan. I love you."

"I love you too, lots and lots."

"I don't deserve you...any other woman would've left." Lando sighs making her smile sadly.

"Then it's good I'm not any other woman."

"No. You're definitely not. Especially not like any of my friends. That's why you're stuck with me for life." Lando grins earning a hum. "In private, in public and anywhere you want and choose."

"Good. Now go make that statement. I want those fucking assholes to shut the fuck up thinking Magui is your girlfriend. Nothing against her obviously, but I'm not standing for the world thinking you're up for someone else to take."

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[sjyluv]

in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you

genres! fluff?, angst, celebrity x celebrity, ex-lovers

word count! 1380

warnings! mention of breakup, heartbreak

synopsis! in another life, you and park sunghoon are lovers, just not in this one

mimi’s note! this fic was inspired by a quote from the movie ‘everything everywhere all at once’ also I'm not very good at writing angst because I hate it but I did my best

“Congrats, big shot,” a familiar voice says from behind you, and you can hear the teasing smile in his tone, “actress of the year award, you're in the big leagues now.”

You turn around to face Park Sunghoon, a renowned figure skater and your ex-boyfriend. You haven't seen each other in almost a year but the sight of him still has the same effect on you it did all those years ago.

He's hauntingly beautiful and you're a house of horrors.

You offer a polite smile, but it's bittersweet as if you were greeting death itself.

“Congratulations to you too, you're becoming a bit of an A-list yourself since you won the Olympics.” you quip, and you both know what kind of game you're going to play tonight.

It’s the same one you always play, the one where he pretends you didn’t break his heart and you pretend everything is fine.

Sunghoon smiles at you too, like you're everything he's ever had and everything he's ever lost.

“Maybe we should exchange autographs like middle schoolers trade Pokémon cards,” he says, and you both chuckle.

“Hmm, I have a feeling mines will be more valuable.”

He playfully puts a hand over his heart. “That’s hurtful, y/n, but I can’t deny that it’s also true.”

The gala was still roaring with life when you stepped out for some fresh air, you sat on concrete stairs, not caring if you got your 20,000-dollar dress dirty. You couldn't care about a lot of things lately.

You and Sunghoon had long parted ways, the conversation only lasted about five minutes before you were seated at your respective tables, you didn't see him again after that.

You’ve gotten everything you ever dreamed of at this point in your career, and you accomplished all your goals, in the beginning, it all seemed so impossible, but now that you're here and you've done it, you’re not so sure what's left anymore.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention, a tall, pale figure steps out, dressed in a purely black suit, and you recognize him instantly.

“Following me?” you prop your chin in your palm as your elbow rests on your knee, carrying the weight of your head as you tilt it playfully.

He’s not startled by the suddenness of your voice, which tells you, yes, he was looking for you.

He smiled. “Maybe.”

He sat next to you on the stairs, not caring if his 5,000-dollar suit got dirty, though it wasn't actually because he didn't care about the suit, but because he just wanted to be close to you.

You're both silent for a while, simply appreciating being in each other's presence after so long.

Or maybe it's because you don't know what to say and he has too much to say, so you settle for the piercing silence of unsaid words.

Sunghoon has been silent his whole life, but he promised himself tonight he wouldn't be.

“Was it worth it?”

Ah. There it is.

You think as the corners of your lips curl upward, you knew this question was coming, you sensed it the moment you saw him again.

If he had asked you that a year ago you would’ve said yes, no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a straight-up yes, and you would have meant it too.

Suddenly the silk fabric of your dress starts to itch your skin, your diamond embroidered heels start to hurt your feet, and your pearl jewelry feels too heavy.

In only a single minute, Park Sunghoon has stripped you of your persona, called you out for the fraud you are, and seen the real you.

And he accepted you.

You lie to save your pride, it's a habit of yours that he knows all too well.

He doesn't think you're perfect, but you would never have to be for him to love you.

“Sometimes,” you say.

You don't bother lying, he’ll know.

You had always been a good liar until Sunghoon came into your life.

He gently nods in understanding at your response, “Do you ever think about it? About us?”

With a chuckle, you reply, “Of course I do.”

It's true that sometimes leaving him is worth the life you're living now, but there are fragments of times when you imagine what your life could've been with him.

In another life, you never left Sunghoon, you got married, bought a home together, adopted a dog, and had a child.

On the surface that sounds nice, but in another life, you are a housewife with broken dreams, you bought a home together but it wasn't the one you always dreamed of because you had to compromise with Sunghoon, you adopted a dog but you were never really an animal person, and you had a child but motherhood was never for you.

In another life, you are happy to be a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought your dream home together, you adopted a dog that you both love, you had a child and you are the most loving mother.

In another life, you are not a housewife, you and Sunghoon bought a home even better than your dream home, you adopted a dog but you're more of a cat person, and you never had a child but you always wanted to be a mother.

In another life, you and Sunghoon work from home, you bought a decent home together, and although it's not your dream one, it's good enough, you adopted a cat, and you never had a child but because that's the way you liked things.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are divorced, the home you bought together is just walls and a roof with painful memories, you don't adopt any pets, and you never had a child.

In another life, Sunghoon is a househusband, you don't care about having a dream home because any place is home with him, you adopted a dog and a cat, and you had a child who has everything they could ever want.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are teenagers again falling in love for the very first time, and you have no idea what the future holds for you.

In another life, you and Sunghoon are just a little bit younger than you are now, in the kitchen of your shared apartment, and you are trying to figure out how to do laundry so all your clothes don’t turn blue again and how to properly calculate your taxes so you don’t go to prison for tax fraud.

In another life, you and Sunghoon have grown old together, and you are experts at doing laundry and taxes.

In another life, you are the bottles of salt and pepper on the table of a random diner and things are entirely less complicated.

In another life, you never meet Park Sunghoon.

The possibilities are endless, and the truth is, you never know what will happen in your life, and that's scary, but you hope in another life you learn to accept the bad just as easily as you accept the good.

“What does it look like?” he asks.

“Laundry and taxes,” you shrug.

You both laugh at that.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Taxes and laundry,” he smiles.

You both laugh again.

The party inside is completely forgotten about as you and Sunghoon spend what feels like hours just sitting and talking, until the realization that it’s time to go home dawns on you.

Sunghoon gets up first, holding his hand out for you to take, and you do, but when he helps you to your feet he doesn't let go just yet, instead, he looks into your eyes and you feel his thumb caress your knuckles.

“It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

“It was good to see you again too, Sunghoon.”

He finally lets you go and you already miss his warmth.

He almost walks away but turns to face you one last time.

With a hint of a smile on his lips, he says, “You know, in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

And then Park Sunghoon walks out of your life forever, and you let him.

In another life, things didn't end that way.

© 2024 sjyluv, all rights reserved | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

[zhaosbin]

panda plushie—z. hao

summary: when your boyfriend has a long and stressful day at rehearsals, you want to surprise him to cheer him up! little did you know he was already finding his own way to feel better...

reader: gender neutral but lmk if i missed anything!

warnings: MINORS DNI! blowjobs, virgin!hao, pet names (only baby i think?) i think that's it

—

your relationship with hao was a relatively sweet and innocent one. the furthest the two of you had ever went was making out on his couch for 10 minutes. while this was always enough for the both of you, you both knew you wanted more of each other, and that's how you got yourself here.

you enter your boyfriends dorm wanting to surprise him after a long day of rehearsals. you knew how hard he works to be the best performer he can be, and you know how badly it can stress him. you quietly sneak to your boyfriends room with a plush panda behind your back. you knew the rest of the boys were meeting for dinner and they informed you beforehand that hao wouldn't be joining them because he was too tired. as you approach his room, you hear soft whimpering. immediately you think something is wrong so you reach for the doorknob. before you could open it, you hear the prettiest sound you've ever heard come out of your boyfriends mouth. a moan.

you felt your body immediately warm up as your cheeks flushed the deepest shade of pink. you knew your boyfriend jerked off obviously, everyone has needs, but you never really imagined how perfect he'd sound while doing it.

as his whimpers get louder, you knew you couldn't miss the big finale and opened the door. before your eyes was possibly the sexiest thing you'd ever seen. hao was laid out on the bed with his back arched and his neck lazily thrown back, and of course his hand gripping his needy cock. before you could enjoy the sight too much, you immediately lock eyes with your boyfriend.

"y-y/n what are you doing here?" hao rushes to say while trying to hide himself with his blankets. you try to hide your smile, he's so cute when he gets flustered.

"i came to bring you this" you say pulling the plush out from behind you back, "but it looks like you don't need any of my help to make you feel better" you say giggling.

your dominating nature in this moment turned your boyfriend on so badly that you caught another soft whimper that he tried so hard to conceal.

moving closer to him, you kiss his head as you sit down near his legs on the bed.

"i know we haven't really had this conversation yet, but it seems like the perfect time. let me help you baby" you say gently.

hao rushes to shake his head no, you've never done anything like this before and he didn't want you to think he was using you.

"it's okay, i promise. i wanna make you feel good" you say smiling softly.

"o-okay" your boyfriend finally submits and lets out a breath he'd been holding for way too long.

with his permission, you slowly start drawing the sheets back to reveal his pathetically hard cock laying against his stomach. you immediately wanted to test the waters and wrapped your hand around his length.

he quickly jerked his hips up and whined loudly. once you realized how sensitive he really was, you knew you were gonna be having fun with him.

you decide to stop teasing your poor boyfriend and start stroking his cock slowly, stopping at the tip to rub circles on it.

"please, f-faster" your pretty boyfriend desperately says. who are you to deny such a pretty boy begging for you?

you complete his request, going faster and making sure to keep glancing up at his cute expressions. you knew your boyfriend was already getting close, and that's when you decided to surprise him even more.

you take your hands off of his cock and you could swear you see his eyes tearing up from the loss of contact. before he could complain about it, you replace those hands with your mouth.

you only could bob your head up and down a few times before your boyfriend was cumming inside of your mouth.

you quickly swallow it up, relishing in the taste of him. you went on for a little longer until he was shaking and pushing your head away.

"that was amazing", hao says breathlessly.

you both smile at each other and your gazes fall on the panda plushie you had bought for him. it was sitting in its cute pose staring at the two of you. you both meet eyes again and start giggling at the plushie watching that whole encounter. before you could even make a joke about it, hao turns the bear around so it's facing the wall. you questionably look at him wondering why he did that when it was obviously a little bit late.

"what? you didn't think i'd return the favor"?, he says smugly.

for someone completely inexperienced, he was shockingly good with his tongue.

a/n: hii!! this is my first full piece of writing on here 🥺 i hope u guys enjoy and feel free to request anything too! 🩵

[prismuffin]

Some context: So part of being a part of the batfam comes with hiding emotions or masking reactions and feelings. (Cause like, you don't want someone like Joker to know you're scared or anxious).

what if the bat boys (Dick, Jason, and Tim) got hit with a spell or power on a mission that gave them animal ears and a tail. (You can decide the animals, no matter what a animals ears and tail are the biggest things that you look at to tell how the animal is feeling. Because of their movement not being a forced one, but happens naturally like breathing).

So, how would the batboys (separately) react to notice that their tails and ears aggressively give away that they have romantic feelings towards Male Reader?

Ex: Dick having German shepherd ears and tail, and every time Dick sees Reader. His tail is wagging and his ears are perked.

I feel like this would be so much chaos for them, to suddenly have something attached to them that gives away what their feeling. Cause they haven't trained to mask it yet.

Alright lemme know how I did with this kay? I think that-

Jason would have come home from a mission after being hit with a spell that gave him fox attributes. While Bruce asked Zatanna about a counter-spell Jason was stuck with the short end of the stick. It really only changed his physical form so it shouldn't be too damaging. When it comes to you I think Jason would be the type to try and ignore the fact that his feelings are so on display. When he hears your voice his ears perk up suddenly and his wagging tail swishes through the air, but he's gonna keep that same stoic look on his face. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are furrowed and it just completely contradicts the way his tail is wagging so fast. If you comment on it he'll immediately shut you down by asking what the hell you're talking about. You tease him about it and it definitely annoys him that this is the way you recognize his feelings for you. Dick did not expect to be coming home from his previous mission with dog ears and tail but hey, life just be like that sometimes. He doesn't know what he expected to come from this spell but it definitely wasn't this. It was sort of difficult when you'd walked into the room and he'd gotten visibly excited even though he was trying to play it cool with a smirk on his face, his dumb ass tail wouldn't stop wagging. When you comment on it he gets super embarrassed especially when you hit him with the "happy to see me?" Yup he's done, he's hiding from you until Bruce can find some sort of counter-spell or something because he can't stand the thought of rejection from you. You find it cute though. Tim would seem pretty unfazed but deep down he's so embarrassed about the whole thing. He gets hit with one little spell and suddenly he has a cat's tail and even the ears to match. At least he's not meowing though. The whole thing becomes even more embarrassing when you show up and suddenly his tail won't stop swishing, though it's more from the nerves than anything. He's blushing a lot and when you comment on it and just sort of brushes it off but the whole thing really clicks for you after this entire event. He was always sort of stuttery around you but with the way his tail seemed to impulsively react to your presence pretty much confirmed your suspicions.

———

Directory

[nerdiqueen]

hang on I have to rant

if you're not already aware, the five-man band is a literary device used to classify teams of 5 characters. it's what I call an external trope, meaning that you fit the trope to the characters, they don't innately have it.

a:tla has a pretty solid one, and it's well known enough, so I'm gonna use it to show you what I mean

it is comprised of:

the Leader, who directs the group and is usually the main character (aang)

the Lancer, who serves as character foil to the Leader and is often a bad-guy-turned-good or rogue element (zuko)

the Big Guy, who solves physical problems for the team and is frequently a goofball (toph)

the Smart Guy, who solves technical/logistical problems for the team and typically serves as an "idea guy" (sokka)

and the Heart, who solves emotional problems for the team- if there's only one girl, she's probably the Heart (katara)

there are three star wars groups I want to look at: delta squad, domino squad, and clone force 99.

first is domino squad, as they fit this trope the easiest.

fives is the Leader, the most strategizing one in the group

droidbait is the Lancer, far less cautious and more prone to injury than the others (the foil to fives' effectiveness)

hevy is the Big Guy, serving the oh-so-common "big gun demolitions expert" variant

echo is the Smart Guy, in the "guys, come on, stick to the PLAN" variant

cutup is the Heart, lightening the mood with jokes (hence the name)

the first to die is droidbait, leaving echo to serve as fives' foil, which allows us to see that fives is probably the most prototypical clone of the bunch. then hevy sacrifices himself, and cutup gets eaten, leaving only fives and echo until the Citadel arc which I haven't yet seen.

then we have delta squad. the thing about delta squad is that there are four of them, and while the four-man band is a thing, they make this perfect incomplete five-man band that I think is really really tasty.

boss (player character) is the Leader, guiding the team

sev is the Lancer, playing the "snarky rogue" archetype

scorch is the Big Guy, again the "big gun demolitions" variant- but with the added flavor of being very by-the-book (which we see the consequences of when he aligns with not only the empire but doctor hemlock himself in tbb)

fixer is the Smart Guy, tech expert

notice anything?

there's no Heart.

and that works. these are clone commandos- meant to be the most effective troops the republic has. they almost never interact socially outside of their squad, and when they do it's kept pretty professional.

we see that again in clone force 99, or as they call themselves, the bad batch

hunter is the Leader, his enhanced senses leaving him the most generalist of the batch (and also he's technically their sergeant)

crosshair is the Lancer, a "silent, ruthless efficiency" type

wrecker is the Big Guy, "big gun demolitions" variant yet again (I told you it was common) in the goofball flavor

tech is the Smart Guy, btw he's really well done and it never feels like he just "knows because he's smart" you can always tell how he figures things out

again, there's no Heart. but wait.

in the Bad Batch arc in clone wars, they pick up another member- echo. we don't see much of echo's interaction with the batch in that arc, but when we come back, echo is solidly in a sort of almost-but-not-quite Heart role. and then.

omega shows up in the "sixth ranger" role, there to shake up the group dynamic. throughout season one, we see omega slowly take over echo's role as Heart- and as this happens, it becomes clear that that was the role he was playing, as he talks hunter through how to best take care of omega. but omega, tagalong kid as she is, is much, much more suited to the Heart role than echo, and she takes his place- which allows echo to run off and have his own adventures with rex throughout seasons two and three, WHICH WORKS because echo is a regular clone who joined the batch later in life and thus isn't quite the same as the others, but omega is a deviant clone just like them!

[w0lp3rtinger]

@biolover9 <3 eeeehehehehe - @lambpaca and I have talked about this. Like, even outside of the parameters of Shadow and Amy getting together. This is just general conversation.

I've mentioned this a bit about it before on the sideblog, but I just... never could see Shadow ever wanting biological children. Truthfully, I don't think he could have them even if he wanted to, not without a massive amount of medical intervention.

Like... if you're making the ultimate weapon, the ultimate life form, why would you ever give it the ability to make more of itself? That lessens your control over it and runs the risk of causing your enemies to get their hands on a weapon of their own. You don't want that.

(I'm saying 'it' because like... that's how GUN viewed Shadow. 'It'. Even Gerald viewed Shadow as 'it' in the end in his diary. What Shadow wanted didn't matter to them. )

Beyond that though, I can see Shadow looking at their own biology and not wanting anyone else to have to endure it. Especially working off of the idea that they're still young and all the ramifications of genetic testing and mutation on them haven't really come to fruition yet (looking at you, 'immortality'). Why would he be selfish enough to pass a potential curse like that along?

That's not to say Shadow doesn't like kids. We've seen them be extraordinarily patient with characters like Cream, Tails, and Charmy both in-game and outside of game. I think for them to want kids though, they'd need to have certain needs met. They'd need to be free from GUN, they'd need to feel safe, they'd need to make a lot of peace with themselves and grow as a person. Essentially, they'd have to go through hell and then also a lot of soul-searching before reaching the conclusion of, 'I want to be a parent.'

But Amy? Oh without question, I think Amy wants kids. Doesn't matter if they're hers or someone else's. I've joked about her having a vision binder listing out three kids and names and everything. Amy also has been shown to want a domestic future after she's defeating Eggman. She wants to enjoy the peace and the every-day magic of just existing to exist. I think a lot of people agree that Amy would want kids to be a part of that domestic bliss.

Personally? I think there's also this idea that kids are hope for a future. Amy has spent her entire childhood fighting. There's no way to get that time back, no way to undo that which she has seen and had to experience. She forced herself to grow up quickly in order to protect both herself and the world. Amy wouldn't have kids unless she felt safe enough to do so.

I also think Vanilla being Amy's main parental figure that we see in almost every iteration of the Sonic franchise helps. Vanilla is, by all accounts, a loving, kind parent. That would have made a positive impact on Amy not only in regards to who she becomes as a person, but also, her own expectations on what being a parent entails. Seeing someone who wants to be a parent, who likes being a parent, who likes their kids (both their biological kids and the ones they pick up like a wet cat off the street), that means something, you know?

All the Sonic Gang solidify that family is what you make it, family is a choice, but Vanilla shows that parenthood is also a choice, and one that can be done with joy.

How does Gigi factor into this? Well, I kinda touch on it in The Home You Make, and then I show it in Late Evening Talks, but effectively- Amy and Shadow both make each other feel safe, they help the other grow, they help the other be their best selves, and in the moments they struggle, they're there for one another. This creates an environment for the two of them that allows them to entertain and discuss the notion of being parents. Without question, I can see them covering it before they even really start dating. Shadow in particular, not wanting to mislead Amy, would make his stance/circumstances abundantly clear, but now, fully committed and comfortable with one another in a way they were not previously, the subject would come up again not as a nebulous 'well maybe' but as a 'are we gonna do this?'

And they decide, 'yes.'

They'd take the adoption process slow, looking. They’re not really looking for a hedgehog- the species doesn’t matter. It’s the kid that does. I don’t even think the two of them really know what they’re looking for when they start. I mean, how do you put parameters around this sort of thing? Ultimately, Gigi wins them over. She’s funny, she’s creative, she’s sweet even if she’s a hellion, she’s protective, she gets into fights- she’s them. They see her in them. They get this kid. The child care staff warn them about her being 'stubborn and standoffish,' and overall ‘difficult to work with’. That pisses Shadow and Amy off royally. Not like that's unfamiliar territory- they’ve been this kid, frankly. When they meet Gigi, they’re smitten, and frankly, them coming from a place of understanding with her helps her warm up to them. When they fully decide to go for Gigi, they take the process slow, letting her get to know them, letting her decide if their home is the place she wants to be.

And she decides, 'yes.'

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

I have seen a post comparing Steven's adoption of Henry II in the anarchy with what the Velaryons did with the Strong boys wanting to justify that their claim is legitimate, but in my humble opinion it is not comparable at all. This situation could be extrapolated to Aegon II having adopted his nephew Aegon (that was the LEGITIMATE son of his political rival) having himself a living son, in addition everyone would know that he is not his son and well in this case it would not be applicable but the adopted heir retains his family name...This is not what happens with the Strong boys, It has nothing to do with the modern concept of adoption that they want to apply. I don't understand why it's so hard for them to accept that these guys had no real claim to the throne. They can continue enjoying their characters accepting that they are bastards in every sense of the word. Do you think they are comparable situations?

I haven't seen this argument myself but clearly those are two completely different situations. Stephen didn't adopt Henry II, he made him his heir as a compromise to end to the civil war. And yes, the clear parallel would Aegon II naming Aegon III his heir over Jaehaerys and Maelor, had they survived. Again, this was part of a peace treaty. Everyone knew who Henry II's parents were, and there was no question of his not being trueborn. Henry II was still Count of Anjou, the title he inherited through his father, and styled himself Henry FitzEmpress in honor of his mother.

To understand why this happened, we need to look at some context. Henry II was only 20 when he decided to re-take his mother's throne, and Stephen was past 60. At that point England had been at war off and on for the better part of 15 years and both the clergy and the lords were unenthusiastic about continuing and forced Henry and Stephen to the peace table after Henry made some early gains in his campaign. Stephen respected Henry, and Stephen's own sons were kind of uninspiring as future kings go. Eustace, the older son and main obstacle, died before Stephen did, and the younger son, William, agreed to renounce his claim. Stephen never really took the throne due to strong personal ambition in the first place, but because he was persuaded by people close to him that Matilda would be a poor choice for queen, both due to her being a woman and due to the influence of her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, who was pretty well hated in England. Leaving the throne to his children did not seem to be a major consideration for him when all was said and done. Conceding heirship to Henry II meant that the fighting could come to an end, and the country would be in capable hands, but Stephen himself would not face the humiliation and possible consequences of being outright deposed. As it turned out, Stephen died not even a year later, so Henry II took the throne sooner than expected.

Rhaenyra's Strong children are bastards that she's trying to put into the line of succession while claiming they are trueborn. They were not "adopted" by the Velaryons. The medieval world did not have a concept of adoption like we do in the modern world (Rome did, but not medieval Europe). The reason why it is treason to call them bastards is because what Rhaenyra is doing is illegal, and Viserys, Corlys, and Laenor are shielding her from the consequences. I wrote a post here about the whole idea that Rhaenyra's children are not legally bastards, but I have to admit comparing them to Henry II becoming heir after Stephen is a new one!

[0bianidalas]

“𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞”

2.8K, explicit, post China Sprint

Read on AO3 or bellow the cut

He’s still fuming even when the roar of all engines has shut off. Absurd move, and for what? Fucking out of the podium and pole again. He yanks the balaclava as he seizes the ‘55’ of the garage, each step he’s taken has slowly made the anger subside but still sits in his gut like lava.

Everyone turns to him with their eyes wide and unblinking and Charles breathes. So, they’re waiting for a scene. A screaming match or maybe blows but it’s not the stuff he and Carlos are made of— apparently. He bites his tongue in his mouth when Carlos comes, eyes deep and gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Charles repeats himself, but his tone is far lighter than he intended it.

“Not right now, okay?”

And just like that, he flips the switch. Just like that, Charles’ fire dies and he thinks anyway. He thinks whatever. He thinks good riddance.

Because it’s always been like this with Carlos. Always half-measures and stolen glances and mixed messages and never enough. He should’ve known better than to hope their last year would’ve been different.

If anything, this might just prove to be the worst one yet.

By the time he’s done with the media circus, smiling in the absurdity of his frustrations, he’s ran out of fuel to keep him fired up, and when Carlos approaches him –fucking finally– he’s only greeted with a tired, heavy sigh. “I have to speak to the stewards because of the shit with Alonso, listen—if I was too aggressive—”

Charles taps his chest and through the layers of fabric, he can still feel the heat coming off Carlos, the steady pumping of his heart and the hard carcass that surrounds it. “It doesn't matter. I've been there, too, haven't I?” he relents and it's pathetic. He knows.

But Carlos squeezes his fingers and looks at him puzzled, as he's often done lately. Half-here, half-somewhere else. One foot out, Charles remembers.

And he doesn't say anything else before he disappears from his grip again, Charles also doesn't stick around to listen.

Instead, he replays the sprint idly in his mind after he's showered, revisiting all the missed twists and turns and convincing himself that his fight with Carlos didn't fuck up his chances for a podium. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. What counts is tomorrow, anyway.

But then a flash and he's pushed out of the track like nothing but a bug and his head is spinning and it's a hundred degrees but his gut is boiling with more than just that. His heart is racing for more than just racing. Fucking see me, I'm right here.

I'm yours to push and shove.

He doesn't have to open his eyes and look down to know what he knows already. His shaft's hardening as he lies and overthinks, great. It's not the first time he's gotten hard after a fight on track, it's not even the first time he's gotten hard after a fight on track with Carlos. But it'd been a while, and it'd been a while since the race, too.

He bites his lower lip and eyes his problem. His cock is nestled only somewhat uncomfortably inside his briefs. He could leave it there, he's only halfway into hardness. But then it's also just 10 p.m. in Shanghai so he's got a few more hours to kill before he's ready to rest. Social media seems like a good idea for a minute until he watches one too many videos of the race and his minor issue goes right to considerable.

It's starting to itch, the fabric. But when he moves his hips a little bit the constriction provides friction and Charles' interest is piqued, then. Fine, he'll stoop lower. It's one sprint video that leads to interviews with bullshit excuses that make Charles lose himself in brown eyes like he's done for the last three and some years that then lead him to a myriad of Sainz footage and he's gone.

And Charles could call him up, could get the whole actual show. But Charles was weak enough already to turn down his apologies when Charles very much deserved them, Charles was weak enough already to just let him fucking push him over, he'd been weak enough lately.

This was still weak, of course. But it was at least between him and God. Did he mention he was the bigger man earlier already?

He throws the phone to his side when Carlos' smile begins spinning in his head after three or so photos. It always took so much of his face, but Charles noted that it didn't matter because his laugh was contagious. A lot of aspects of Carlos were like that, could make you feel whatever he wanted in just a flick.

Charles palms himself, just a press of the heel of his hand to his bulge and he breathes heavily. Inhaling deep as his teeth trap his lower lip. He turns over and pushes a pillow between his legs, just to keep the pressure subsided.

Except that Carlos' fingers earlier linger on his, in his mind, and Charles eyes his hand like it's foreign to his body. He's washed off, it's been hours already; there's no trace of Carlos' smell or his heat at Charles' fingertips but it doesn't hurt to imagine. It doesn't hurt to rub himself softly, index finger moving from his clavicle to his chest to his navel until Charles breathes heavily again before he pushes down the briefs and ends the charade that he's wishing this away. He squeezes the pillow harder between his legs to keep his cock from flinching at the cold of the dead darkness of his room. The nearly dead emptiness of the life he carries. And his finger draws faint circles on his body again. Aimless, odd-shaped figures across his arm and his torso and his shoulder just like Carlos would. Touch and graze him like Charles was made of the most precious marble.

And kiss him. Carlos would kiss him breathless. Would kiss him like his life depended on it, would kiss him like he'd fight him on track. Like he did today.

This is all that I've got— can you take it?

Charles bucks into the messy lump he'd already made of the pillow as a yes echoes in his head, chanting, nearly. Yes, I can fucking take it. You want to fight me harder than the rest? I'll meet you halfway there. I'm no coward. Crash into me if that's how bad you want it. We'll give them a bloody show.

He grunts when his tip grazes the silky fabric of the pillow just slightly enough to sting and he comes to think that maybe he ought to just get on with it and use his hand, instead, but the rough friction is good. The rough friction reminds him of calloused, big hands, tanner than his. Musky smells and hairy wrists that always manage to twist right how Charles needs. It's unbearable, really. How perfectly they piece together.

And now Carlos wants to fight me.

All because they have left us in these ruins.

It's not my fault they didn't pick him.

He whimpers as his rhythm picks up, back arched as he's shifted to topple the pillow that's now under his belly. He no longer worries about the cold because his many efforts now got him glistening in sweat and panting, just like he was inside the car earlier.

Riled up because of Carlos fucking Sainz, albeit in two entirely different ways. Or were they? Wasn't their predicament the entire cornerstone of Charles' current frustrations?

They couldn't love each other, they could never love each other. They couldn't even have each other, because they didn't have a say in that.

And they couldn't hate each other, either. They couldn't go at each other's throats.

Well, at least that's what I thought. But he didn't give a shit about that, did he? Maybe that could mean…

“Merde,” he moans when he starts rocking his hips easier because he's started leaking. The moist spot he's made gets slicker with each roll of his hips and soon he just thrusting wantonly into the misshapen lump.

He supports himself a little on his elbows on the mattress, back arched just enough to make room for him to thrust back in, and so he repeats in a frenzy dance. He imagines himself squeezed into nothingness like the pillow, and bucks harder, relentless. Carlos wouldn't lose the pace, not at least until the very– very end. But he wasn't Carlos. He was only the mess Carlos had made of him, whimpering and moaning into his mattress and about to come untouched like a fucking teenager.

I bet he's smiling. I bet this is what he's wanted all along. To see me lose my damn mind like this.

He curses and he can nearly taste the bleach they used to clean the sheets; his tongue dries in the cotton as he lets go of the fabric, and adjusts himself a little. Legs a little spread, this time just pressing on his knees and he moves his hips in circles. Charles breathes at the slight change of pace but his mind provides more reasons to keep him going. Flashes of Carlos meaty lips dropping wet kisses all over his back before he claimed him, the way his bushy eyelashes would flicker before he came, mouth slacking in a soundless ‘o’ that Charles always needed to stick his tongue into.

Carlos' breathy laugh and silly jokes and big hands, crowding all of him both in public and private. Did he even know? How easily can I be undone under his fingers? He picked up his pace again as frustration started filling him once more.

“Charles?”

Yes, he'd fucking say. Sharl all soft like nothing's ever been wrong in the world. Like they're not caught up in the shittiest situation. Like Charles isn't absolutely dreading the end of the season. Like Charles doesn't lo–

He freezes when a hand wraps around his nape and Charles feels like an exposed wire, ready to electrocute. But the hand holding him knows him all too well, and it is as firm as it is tender. So Charles breathes and leans back into it.

“Vai avanti,” Carlos whispers in his ear and Charles wants to kick him out, kind of. He also wants to turn around and kiss the living daylights out of him.

It's always a bit complicated after a race, anyway. Carlos is the one he has to beat all the time, no matter what, but he also needs to have Carlos do good.

And they can't fight, so they don't fight. They make love instead, which is its own kind of fight, if you ask Charles.

He moves slowly — slower than he was a second ago— and the hand at his neck is so hot suddenly the pillow is too cold and rigid and Charles is no longer interested in it. He twists his face to see him, but the room is pitch black and the angle isn't right anyway.

“Carlos…” he whispers. It's not a plea, he wouldn't call it that. He's still got some dignity left in him.

But Carlos answers like he's made to answer, and Charles reflects on how bad he's been to him for the last two or so hours, until he reflects that he's in fact been soft. They both have.

“Shh, keep going. I got you,” Carlos says, and the hand around his neck rolls down his spine slowly to sneak under and wrap around him and Charles moans louder this time because it's what he's wanted the whole fucking day, since that stupid stunt he pulled.

Touch me the way it fucking matters.

“Venga, amore,” he prompts again, in the weird mix of Spanish and Italian he can muster, just towering over Charles somehow. Here and there and all around and Charles is dizzy in lust and something as intoxicating. He pushes himself up, pressed fleshed against Carlos, who's still gripping him loose and Charles knows this is what he'll give him this time. Just this, not more.

You get one piece of me this time. You'll never have me whole.

Charles loves a good challenge.

But he wasn't aiming to win this particular battle, so Charles just moves against the hand holding him firmly, Carlos rubbing his thumb on his tip so the precum would make the grip pleasant while Charles lost himself to the sensations and soon he was bucking erratically into Carlos' fist before spilling his release all over it.

Carlos supports him through the wakes of his climax, holding him to his chest as he stands just right near the edge of the bed, dropping soundful kisses on Charles' shoulders that make him shudder while he's still coming down from his high, Carlos still milking him through.

After the lights have stopped sparkling, Charles finally looks up at him. “I’ve been texting you,” Carlos says at the side of his face, but he sounds amused.

Charles half shrugs, before turning around fully, arms thrown over Carlos' shoulders. “I've been busy.”

“Clearly.” Carlos' right hand is sticky on his hip.

“How did you get in here?” Charles inquires, after he finally gains some clarity.

“Asked Nicolas for a spare key. Told him that if he's gonna tell the media you and I kiss then he might as well help me give it a shot,” Carlos says but there's a trace of amusement in his tone.

Charles still frowns. “Seriously?”

“‘Seriously’ did I ask him for the key or ‘seriously’ did he tell the press we kiss on the mouth?”

Charles rolls his eyes because he didn't really care that much about the answer. The world wasn't burning, so, who cared if his manager joked on international TV about something that may not be a joke? Who cared if Carlos outed them to his manager in response?

He leans forward slowly and drops a kiss on Carlos' lips only to realize he still smells like gas and sweat and tastes like their energy drinks. “Are you still dirty from the race?” Charles blurts, almost absentmindedly.

Carlos slaps his cheek in response and it makes a slick sound cause it's still covered in cum. “You're one to talk about being dirty.”

He chuckles, head falling on Carlos shoulder and trying not to giggle too much but the embarrassment is slowly getting to him. When he stretches his neck again, big brown eyes are looking up to him like he hangs the moon every night.

It's hard to imagine this is the same Carlos that would force him out of the track. The same Carlos that will fight tooth and nails this year to prove Ferrari that they should've chosen him instead of Charles. But, then again, they were all different people once the lights went off.

Charles could never begrudge him.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” he offers. “You can do your hair routine on me so I can have amazing hair after a race like you do,” Charles adds, playfully.

“Anything for Lord Perceval,” Carlos jokes in the same nature.

“You know it isn't personal, right?” Carlos asks after they sit in the tub for a while. His fingertips are drawing circles on his scalp and Charles lives, however long this moment lasts, in a world where none of that matters.

For this fleeting, miniscule moment, he's just having a bubble bath with the most beautiful man he's ever been near.

“I know.” Does he wish it was? Does he wish Carlos wasn't lying?

“It's not easy, though. It's not what you and I are used to,” Charles says, honest, too. Carlos is the longest teammate he's ever had so comparisons are dull. But, still…

Carlos stares at him unblinking as he does, and his eyes sparkle with sadness and wonder alike. It's a weird mixture that only Carlos can pull off, Charles reckons. “I'm afraid we're heading into territory that's gonna have us outside of what we're used to, amor.”

Was it a threat or just a bad omen?

“I can't say I won't be aggressive again for the rest of the season. You know why this one is more important than most to me, Charles— but… but I can promise that I'll come back to you still after. And we'll sort it out.”

The corner of Charles' mouth draws up as he looks at him. Yes, he knows. Ever since Carlos joined him, three years and so ago, Charles has known.

The only place Carlos would ever serve him is the bedroom and the only way Carlos would ever be gentle with him is like this.

[irkimatsu]

Idk if you ever thought about this but how would Husk react if his S/O was super self-conscious about their body? Whether thinking they’re way too skinny or way too fat. I feel like you, as the Husk professional, would know how to answer this because I am the exact opposite of a Husk professional. Much better with Angel Dust tbh.

Oh, trust me, as a certified fatass I have thought about this constantly. How would Husk feel about body types that aren't traditionally attractive?

Thankfully for me, my immediate instinct is that he doesn't care so much - sure, he has some physical preferences, but personality wins over everything else. It's part of why he's not swayed by Angel's initial flirting, I feel. He acknowledges that Angel is physically attractive, but the tryhard flirting was way too much of a turnoff. Conversely, even if he's not immediately drawn to someone's physical appearance, getting to know someone on a deeply personal level will attract him far harder than initial appearance ever could.

Not to say he doesn't see anything attractive in those non-traditional body types, of course. I do headcanon him as liking some squish on a partner for my own personal enjoyment, after all. Especially in the ass department. Husk hates to see you go but he loves watching you leave.

As for self-consciousness... trust me, he knows self-consciousness. I can go with him either being too skinny or overweight; either body type is the result of his awful self-care, especially ever since he lost the bet with Alastor. He drinks too much alcohol, he doesn't eat enough, and what he does eat has no nutritional value whatsoever. Any physical stamina he still has is bolstered by his innate demon powers; his muscles have all atrophied by now. But at the same time, we already know how Husk feels about wallowing alone in self-pity.

"You're not the only one down here who hates their body. Look at what I've done with mine! I got a second body after I destroyed my living one, and now I've gone and fucked this one up too. Maybe your choices led to how you look now, or maybe you just got saddled with a shitty form down here... but either way, hating yourself for it isn't going to get you anywhere. Who even benefits from your self-pity, anyway? Predatory jackasses who wanna sell you shit with the promise that it'll change you?

...I hope you don't feel like you need to change your body just for me. I like ya just the way you are. Love at first sight ain't my style anymore, but after I got to know you... just knowing who you are makes you the most beautiful person I've ever seen, both up there and down here. And besides, I've shown you exactly how I feel about my favorite parts of you plenty of times, haven't I, baby? Maybe I should remind you some more later tonight...?

If you wanna change, I'll support you. I know change is hard - fuck I know it's hard - but I'll be here for you through all of it. You just need to promise me that you're not doing it because you think you're not good enough for me already. And you also have to promise me that you're not going to go buying some shady instant cure potions from the first scumbag you see on TV! You can't trust any of 'em!"

(Thanks for considering me a Husk professional, by the way! I try my best! <3 In turn, thank you for your service with Angel Dust! I try my best by him but I'm always terrified I'll fuck it up... he deserves the best writing I can give him, but I know there's aspects of his life I'll never fully understand and I should be fucking grateful that I don't...)

[modernsapphicism]

Pancakes for Dinner

inspired by the song of the same name by lizzie mcalpine. a fetchen story as told by karen's letter to gretchen.

Gretch,

Hey. I know I haven't been in contact for weeks since I came home in India, and I'm really sorry for that. I thought I needed some space after graduation to figure things out for myself for a while especially now that high school is really over.

It kinda sucks, doesn't it? I thought life would be all good after Spring Fling in junior year, but somehow everything became different. Some are good different, others are bad different. Mostly good, though. At least we all graduated, and thanks to everyone, I didn't have to fall back a year to catch up with my grades.

Gretchie, I'm in the airport right now, waiting for my flight back to the US.

Funny how I've been riding airplanes since I was small and it still makes me nervous. I mean, it shouldn't be logical for a machine that heavy to be able to fly, right? It has no feathers like a bird, and its wings doesn't even flap. It just doesn't make sense, Gretch.

I am coming home. I plan to, at least. And I will be there by your side the next thing you know.

But in the rare case that I don't make it home, I want you to know something.

The truth is, all these years being by your side has been the best years of my life.

Sure, there are ups and downs especially when Regina gets cranky and lashes out on us, or when school sucks so hard that it's stressing us out. It was always you who held my hands though it all and made things better.

I love the days when it would just be the two of us hanging out. When we go to the mall and shop for clothes, when we go salons and have our nails done, when we go to festivals and carnivals and try on all the rides that we can go to, and take photos for our scrapbook.

I especially love it even when we're chilling in your house when your parents aren't around, on the couch wearing our pajamas with popcorns and colas in the table in front of us, a cheesy movie playing in the TV. You would always snuggle next to me, hold my hand underneath the blanket, and lay your head on my shoulder. You would fall asleep on the middle of our third movie and I would always be too scared to move, not wanting to wake you up and ruin your peace so I just sit still until the credits roll.

Days when you would sleepover at mine and we would talk and talk about everything and anything until the sun rises. How we would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and make the kitchen our own little bubble. You would always pretend that the spatulas were microphones and sing random tunes just to keep me company while I cook pancakes for dinner. I would always be in awe of your voice and how you carry yourself when you perform as if you were on a stage, spotlight set on you, and there were only the two of us in the whole world that existed in that very moment.

I know you still love her, Gretch. It shows in the way you look at her and the way you cling to her every word. It has been like that for years but you just don't realize it. You would always say that you were just doing everything because you're a great friend. It's not like that, though. It hasn't been since ninth grade.

I know I was too much of a coward to say something, even now, I'm still scared. I don't want to taint whatever we have right now and risk losing it all. I can't lose you, Gretchen.

I don't want to keep on pretending that seeing you pay attention to someone else doesn't hurt. I don't want to keep on telling you that I'm happy you're with someone else when I'm clearly not.

But you couldn't have known.

Gretch, I don't want to say something, not yet, but I hope by now you probably have an idea what I'm trying to tell you. I can't be too forward in case it all comes crashing down on me and I don't think I can handle this going south, at least not right now.

I'll see you when I see you, and hopefully I'll finally be brave by then.

Always yours,

Karen.

[diviningrodtv]

Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane

[blade-that-was-broken]

Well there’s child that bites that’s Bruce jr I believe, there is the one that got stuck in the ketchup bottle that one is also real hyperactive so maybe HC those two as twins make em identical nightmare children. I saw a fanfic where one of Bruce’s kids was like super allergic and intolerant to practically everything which causes problems cause Bruce owns a restaurant. And of course there is anarchist daughter. You should definitely give Bruce and brandy at least one pair of twins or triplets to justify him eventually having like 8-9 kids by the time he’s like 40ish.

Thanks for the ideas! Since we basically know nothing about them and most of them I don't even think have names at this point (?) it can be kinda of difficult. Bruce was about 13 when their parents divorced and it has been about fifteen years so Bruce is only about 28 at this point. He's not done having kids but he's got several already.

"Those two are twins, Jr. likes to bite," Bruce grimaced a little as he showed John some pictures. Brandy insisted on driving back home, even though Bruce said he could do it. He wasn't sure what her game plan was but she wasn't taking no for an answer. John just silently looked at whatever Bruce showing him at any given time and didn't seem to mind the rant and chatter. "And his twin is really... hyperactive. I love them to death but wow, they are everywhere, you have no idea."

"I can probably fix the biting," John replied.

He'd been doing that, insisting he could help or fix things or whatever. Bruce really wasn't sure what to make of it. His first instinct had been thinking that John thought there was something wrong with his kid that needed to be fixed and that made him upset. Sure, Jr. shouldn't be biting and they would work on that but he wasn't some broken thing to be fixed.

John said everything so plainly and Bruce couldn't really determine his meaning.

But he kept telling himself that John wasn't exactly himself either. The doctors said he would probably come back to himself. He just didn't really know who his brother was anymore.

"Uh... this one is allergic to pretty much life in general, especially cats, for some reason?" he said, flipping through the photo. "Which is tough because out neighbor loves cats and well... he's been kind of taking a liking to them too."

"Feed him eggs from a farm with barn cats," John replied.

"Uh... what?"

John looked up at him and tilted his head a little. Bruce had to take a moment to take that in. Clay did the same thing. Geez, how was he going to tell everyone else? He'd figure that out later.

"Helps with allergies."

"Okay...? It can be difficult with the restaurant since there is a bunch of stuff he's allergic and intolerant of but we are working on a medication regiment. And he's not really supposed to be around the kitchen anyways," he continued, trying to keep things normal but his speech just kept getting quicker and more excited. "They are going to love you. They have always wanted an uncle living close by. I know technically you don't have to stay out here but it is the best and you have an in!"

"An... in?"

"Me!" Bruce nodded with a grin. "I can get you set up with a fantastic place when you are recovered, if you want. You can stay with us as long as you want, I just know a lot of people tend to be independent so I thought hey, maybe he'd want a little place on the beach or something instead but then again, we haven't really seen each other in..."

"Alright, honey," Brandy interrupted. "You are getting a little excited."

"Where else would he go? We are by far the most financially stable and it's Hawaii for heaven's sake. People would kill to live here. There can't possibly be anywhere better. He doesn't even have an address."

Brandy just shot him a slight glare in the rearview mirror.

"Uh, he's right... uhm about the address thing," John confessed. "If I needed to spend my leave off base, I usually just found a camping spot or stayed with one of my squad."

Brandy's face twisted into something interested and possibly mischievous. John wouldn't have been able to catch it but Bruce definitely could. "Oh! We would love to hear about them! You must be very close."

"We are," John shrugged, lightly. "Might as well be family at this point. Kinda curated an orphans, losers and runaways club. Or in my case, all three," he chuckled.

It was the first time Bruce heard any sound that could possibly be classified as vague amusement from John, although Bruce wasn't entirely sure if it was genuine. He knew one thing; he didn't really like the type of humor.

"Except for Chaz, he's just a fool," John snorted. "They wouldn't let me get rid of him."

"What about the others?"

"Dickory is one of the best. He's very cunning but you can count on him even in strange plans. Pete is retired, not that you'd ever know he was there in the first place. Barely said a word. We useta call him Growly Pete cause that's generally how he was."

Okay. Best friend. Crotchety old man. This was okay. This seemed normal.

"Tresillo... hasn't been with us long but he's shaping up to be a good kid. Needed some discipline but considering his parents weren't exactly in the picutre, I get where he's comin from. He's grown a lot in the time that he's been with us, we're really proud of him."

Brandy glanced at Bruce again. He knew what she was thinking.

He wasn't going to think about it.

"Anyone else?" she asked.

He listed off a few more. "And then... and then Delta."

"Oh! Who is Delta?" Brandy asked with a smile.

"She's mah girl."

His what?

"My partner in crime, the law, whatever you wanna call it," John replied, rubbing his arm and looking out the window. "Go-to gal, best friend, right hand man or I'm hers, whatever you got, it's us. By some miracle the military thought it best to keep us stationed together. She ain't crazy but probably a good choice on their part."

"So, I suppose we will be seeing her visit sometime?"

"I'll haveta call her sister and see what all happened after well, this," John shrugged. "But maybe. It used to be where you found one of us, you wouldn't find the other far behind. I dunno how that'll be now. Things are different, but uhm... I'm hopin' she''ll come around sometime.''

[uncanny-tranny]

Another bonus to learning a fiber art is being able to speak to others in a Lovecraftian language that nobody else understands...

...and also being able to read things like THIS:

[sysig]

If your almost out of requests I'll send my second allowed one! Didn't want to send a second one at first though to give other people a shot lol

Howsabout.... something something Scriabin with the vibe from the song "This is Love" by Air Traffic Controller? If vibes from songs are allowed ofc xD

Day 13 - I know wrong, I know right, I just love to pick a fight

[mattodore]

found out while putting together matthias's oc page that his name has the exact same etymology and meaning as theo's name...

i’m sure this is information matthias is very normal about…