#i feel like the show is much closer to normal than it was last season

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie, honestly confused as to how to feel about this episode, though probably time will tell. I do 1000% agree having an episode this packed following the off-brand cold case file episode was...a choice. Imagine how much more understandable Buck's choice would have been had we just come off the episode where Lev dies just as he figured happiness out?? Or Hen's forced to decompression after she just spent last episode going full speed 24/7?? Emotional continuity is a thing and I

feel like having a detective story in between just made things jarring. My favorite part of the episode was the Eddie and Chris stuff, which was excellent, but also contained to this episode (not to say every arc has to be contained, but if it's going to build over the season...). Anyway, as for Buck's story, we'll see where it goes. We all thought his obvious misery in 5a would lead to a reckoning in 5b and look how that turned out. Still it wasn't bad, just could've been better.

Okay but I am ABSOLUTELY with you on not knowing how to feel and I think part of that is because SO much was crammed into this episode that it didn’t feel like anything got the time to breathe! If they had trimmed down 6x03 and put part of this episode into it, we would have had time last week and this wee to see things like the discussion when the crew catches up after Chim got abducted and Buck almost got hit by that car, Maddie and Chim talking about their rough calls and finding some comfort in each other (I guess couples therapy is off the table? 🙄), and while that Buck/Hen scene was everything, I think he needed to talk to one other person and I get WHY it wasn’t Eddie yet (hopefully because when they DO talk about it, it will reveal some things but it’s been over a season and they haven’t talked about the shooting or will and not even about the tsunami or well incident soooo 🤷🏻‍♀️), but honestly I think the talk about his new self-help book/plan to say yes could have been the talk that happened with Eddie, and his talk with Maddie could have been about the Daniel of it all, and maybe about what happened with him and Chim and the near miss. But you’re also so right about the emotional continuity as well

I just think this episode was too packed and now we’re not even coming back to this storyline with Buck for another 3 episodes?! It all just still feels so messy. We have Buck off work with zero explanation (after last season was all about how they didn’t function correctly when they weren’t all together as a team), we have Hen asking for a second chance this week which was in the synopsis for NEXT week, no Madney couples therapy, who knows if May got dropped off at collage ever because we certainly didn’t see or hear about it or her after her quick spot in 6x02, Ravi’s name hasn’t even come up in 4 episodes, and Buck and Eddie have been so separated and not having conversations since 6x01 that even casual viewers are taking notice! And don’t get me started on that “I think curiosity killed the birdwatcher” nonsense. KR really thinks that if this show isn’t being a gritty police drama, then it’s just corny and unserious because, as I’ve said before, she just does not get the heart of this show. It used to be funny AND earnest, but now it just feels like it’s sometimes cold and like it can’t be earnest about it’s ridiculous calls, it has to be quippy like a tiktok video or something. They have to put in these scenes that say “we’re not REALLY caring about this man trapped under a tree, this is a dumb thing but we’re doing it *ironically* so you can’t laugh at us. IDK it’s just...off.

As for the sperm donor thing, I don’t even know how I feel. I figured he would lean towards yes but then after thinking make it a no, but committing like that makes me feel so bad for that couple if he changes his mind later. And I know everyone wants to talk about Daniel and the will, but also the way people are acting like a family history of cancer (which is incredibly common) is grounds to not father a child has rubbed me the wrong way and feels very...eugenic-y. Like, if he had a gf we might get one scene like we did with Maddie mentioning having a family history of cancer an that would be it! But while I do think the couple should be told about his family history, I don’t see why an otherwise healthy man shouldn’t be allowed to consider his genes being used to make a child. Plus who knows what kinds of other stuff his parents didn’t tell him or Maddie! Heart disease, diabetes, who knows what else is lurking in their family tree. Who knows what’s going on with the woman who will be carrying the baby and HER family history! It just feels weird that people are acting like Buck shouldn’t even be considered. Then there are the people hoping he’s infertile because for some reason the only way he can accept that he already has a family with Eddie is if he has NO option of ever having biological kids? (also, the friend is already infertile, which is why we’re getting this whole dumb thing, do we really think they would make Buck *also* infertile? They won’t even let him kiss a man (yet 🤞🏻) you really think they’re going to show him being unable to “perform”?) I think we all know Buck is not capable of walking away and hopefully the end result of this storyline is something good but right now it really feels like they just do not know what to do with him because they HAD the “oh” moment for Buddie a season ago in 4x13 and instead of leaning into it they swerved hard and Buck has just be circling in limbo waiting for it to be “time”. 

At least we got to see Hen/Buck drunk besties under far better and more fun circumstances (Eddie/Maddie drunk besties WHEN?!), Bobby was sooo Dad shaped this episode, ARMS!, Eddie being a great dad and being willing to open up to his family (118 and Ramon) to ask for help and advice, Chris is a pre-teen for sure and still just as much of a national treasure and I’m so excited to see him growing up and where this is going to go, and I don’t care what anyone says Noah is still such a sweet little bean. I will say for as packed as this episode was and as unfulfilled as I was with some of the things we didn’t get to see because this episode had too much going on, I did have fun while I was watching the episode, and I’m still very much excited to see what’s coming next. I feel like this sperm donor storyline as the potential to be like the Eddie/Ana storyline where it was rough the first go around because it didn’t make sense that after the things she said about Chris, why Eddie would want to be with her, but it DID give us some good insight into Eddie and the ending of that relationship was *chef’s kiss* and made it easier to watch again knowing how it ended, even if some of the choices along the way weren’t always great. (unlike the tay kay stuff which just got worse and worse and is rough to watch in s4 knowing how long it’s going to miserably drag out)

This is probably rambling and incoherent at this point (being back in the office 9 hrs a day is frying my brain) so sorry for the word vomit. Maybe over the next few days I’ll figure out how I feel about all this. Until then, thanks for giving me a reason to ramble. Glad to know I’m not the only one unsure of how to feel.

[gudfornuthin]

All I’ve Ever Wanted

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

! Spoilers ahead !

Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.

Word count: 4212

A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)

Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.

After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.

The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.

After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.

He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.

The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.

A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.

“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.

Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”

The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.

Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.

He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.

“You’re telling the truth?”

Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.

“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”

Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”

She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.

***

The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.

After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.

They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.

The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”

The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”

The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”

Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

“My names Y/N.”

Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.

***

After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.

“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”

Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.

He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”

Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.

“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”

A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.

Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.

He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.

“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”

Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.

“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?

He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”

***

That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.

Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.

***

It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.

A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.

“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.

A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.

“Shit.”

She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.

“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”

They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.

“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.

Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”

Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.

“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”

So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.

“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”

They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.

“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”

They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.

She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”

Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.

She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”

They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.

They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.

***

Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…

Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.

Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.

As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.

“They taste perfect,” she says.

Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”

She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”

“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.

They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.

“Damn.”

She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”

Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.

She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”

He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”

***

Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?

Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.

“That’s new.”

Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.

“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”

He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?

***

After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.

He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.

She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”

She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.

She leans back. “You okay?”

Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s the way back to my timeline.”

She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.

Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”

Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.

“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”

A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.

“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”

Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.

He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.

Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”

Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny! i was wondering if you got an order for sourdough bread and blueberry muffins with a side of hard lemonade for toto? i think tumblr has been eating my asks! but if you did already get it ignore this!! love the writing and i loved the past two toto works 🫶🏻🫶🏻🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

bakery menu

want to submit your own orders? then check out the menu! there are tons of things to order and various wonderful servers. i do fandoms beyond f1 if something else strikes your fancy! as for this one, i see what your brain is cooking and i'm so sorry that your original order got eaten by the monster in my inbox! but thankfully this got through and i love the combination! i have grown a fondness for toto as i am part of a discord with other amazing people that's focused on him <3

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20/50), wife!reader, breeding kink, size kink (duh), pregnancy, missionary position

toto found your antics amusing. he knew it was just the kind of person you were. you were raised in a household where hugging and kissing on the cheek were normal! toto wasn't going to get mad at you because you were more touch-y feel-y than most.

he found it cute, because you were always so affectionate towards him. you constantly wanted kiss and toto's arm around you. you want to bury into his chest and make a home out of there. you wanted to be close to him.

it wasn't you he didn't trust. it was men.

it was a hands-y mechanic at a party. he was closer to your age and made you laugh, which only left a surge of jealousy in your husband's chest. the mechanic seemed new. so he probably didn't know that you were toto's wife.

you chatted with him happily and toto felt the jealousy surge up further. he finished the drink in his hand before he put the glass down and went to 'rescue' his wife.

"schatzi." toto said, putting on his best smile. he didn't want to scare off the mechanic. he came up to you and placed his hand on your lower back. the size difference was noticable.

you were toto's little wife, you looked up at him and smiled, "ah, honey! this is the new mechanic!"

toto smiled back at you, "i know, my love." he looked at the mechanic and raised his eyebrows, "i know you'll be a great addition to the team this season. it is lovely to finally meet you. this is my wife." he said bluntly, "mrs. wolff."

you perked up, "oh my god, i'm so sorry! i only introduced myself as my first name. this is my husband!"

the new guy's eyes went wide for a moment before he said, "oh... i see." he then cleared his throat, "um, i'll be right back then!" then swiftly left the situation.

you frowned a little and said, "i wonder what that was about." you looked up at your husband, "he seemed scared."

he rubbed the top of your head before he leaned in and kissed you on the apple of your cheek, "mm, i don't think so, schatzi. why don't we go find george and lily?" two people that toto could trust.

-

that evening, toto made sure to show his wife how much he loved you. those large hands on your behind as he got you up onto the shared bed you have. he watched you get out of the dress, exposing your body to him.

your nude form was for his eyes only.

the glittery gold ring on your left hand was evidence of that. your pretty signature with the last name 'wolff' was another. he could get lost in your beauty as he yearned for you. it was a deep throb in his chest at the sight of you.

the pretty nude colour bra and the bright yellow panties you wore. both looked perfect on your skin. and only made toto undress faster, he didn't want to keep mrs. wolff waiting.

he got his button-up onto the floor, and the undershirt. you rubbed your soft thighs together and he drank in the sight of you.

"a woman like you should be illegal. i'm worried if you get more beautiful, my love." he got onto the bed and took off the undershirt, "i'd have to lock you away."

he said it almost jokingly. he trusted you of course, it was other men that couldn't be trusted.

you giggled and took his belt off. the leather felt expensive in your hands. it soon was on the bed and toto quickly got undressed as well before he was on top of you. his hands on your panties before he showed them down your thighs.

"i'm going to breed you." he said softly, "i want to see you with my child. a proper mother." his nose was up against your jaw, he could feel your pulse as it quickened.

your core got hotter as you struggled to get your bra off. you replied, "then come on now, my dear husband." you took him by the face to meet your gaze, "let's make a baby."

he thought the wind was knocked out of him for a moment before he grabbed a hold of your bra and got it off your body, leaving you fully naked to him. he got on his knees with your legs wrapped around his waist.

a heated part of him wanted to fuck you the old fashioned way. on your back so he could admire every inch of your skin.

"but, i don't think it'll fit." you remarked with a slight giggle.

he replied with a smile, he looked handsome as always. "oh don't worry, schatzi. it'll fit." toto was a big man all over. big hands meant two things, one of those things was that his the tip of his cock was familiar with the beginning of your cervix.

and that he easily bruised your poor sweet hole.

but, since you two got married. it had been easier for him to fuck you, to sink inside of you. to feel you inside and out. but now with you under him, he slowly got his cock into you. one hand on your hip and one around his cock.

he got it all the way to the root and then had both hands on your soft hips. you were beautiful under him, your breath hitched and it made toto's cock twitched.

the beautiful, amazing mrs. toto wolff.

he started to move against you. his hands felt so large on your hips as he moved against you. he hunched over you to admire every inch of your heated skin. he could feel the praise bubble up in his throat.

no mechanic, no driver, no man was going to take you from him. he made a promise to love you for all of your days. and he was expecting for that to last for many years.

you held onto the covers under you and let him move your body back and forth. the stretch felt good. you remembered the days when you'd be bruised for a few days afterwards.

"i want you to have my children, schatzi." he said with a softness in his voice. the pleasure raced up his spine as he continued to move against you. you felt perfect to him, like a dream come true.

you moaned a little louder, in the comfort of your shared bedroom. husband and wife tangled up in one another. you placed your hands onto his chest as he continued to rut against you.

his cock hit all the right areas, it made you feel flushed at it all. it was a heated feeling throughout your body.

you tried to meet his pace, but everything felt so much. your heart was racing and you could feel it in your gut. you moaned a little louder, "please honey."

he continued to work your pussy, making sure that you felt good. how could he not want that? you were his wife. not that little mechanic's wife. you were his.

"i know, angel." he said softly, "i'll make you feel good." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. such a delicate thing under his touch, he could feel the fire in his stomach as he moved against you.

the most perfect living thing. to have sex with you was a feeling that excited toto. to have you anyway he could. he pleasure you as much as you pleasured him.

you were his heart, the thing that kept it beating. to keep going, to keep winning.

you whimpers were cute, you were close. and toto continued to make love to you.

"toto."

"i have you, my love."

you clutched onto the covers under you. your back arched at the intensity as you came around his cock. you whined a little bit and tensed up. toto took this as a chance to pick up the pace and really work his dick into you. he came soon after and made sure to get himself in as deep as it would go.

he was trying to get his wife pregnant after all. a few hard thrusts and his cum drooled into the back of your womb. a good sign if all goes well. toto felt flushed, the sweat down his back as he eyed his beautiful wife.

no mechanic cane get too hands-y if there was a proper baby bump in the way. a sign that toto had staked claim of you as if the ring he bought you wasn't enough. plus, you'd make a beautiful mother.

he pulled out of you and curled up against your stomach. he rubbed soft circles and stayed close to you. he was breathing heavily as were you.

"my beautiful wife." he said as he kissed your stomach.

-

you were all smiles at the party toto threw months later as a way to socialize for the upcoming crew of mercedes. to start out on the right foot. a promise of a good season.

even now, six months pregnant with your first child. you were still all smiles and laughter. instead of a glass of wine, you had been pouring yourself sparkling water to still be part of the celebrations. the dress you wore highlighted your rounded middle.

but now that you were pregnant, toto had to keep a close eye on you. your center of gravity had been all screwed up since your belly sprouted. he didn't need his wife taking a tumble.

he easily caught the sight of you waving hello to the mechanic from last year and giving him a big hug. he also noticed that the mechanic's hand was a little to close to your behind for toto's liking.

if it wasn't glaringly obvious that you were taken already, give the ring, the house and now the baby. he knew he was going to have to talk to the other man before the season started.

toto didn't mind that you were the type of person who loved a good hub, it was who you were! but, it was toto's job as your husband to make sure that you remained safe. <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {6} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: Gossiping drivers, alcohol and Charlotte. What could possibly go wrong? Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4.9k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Three weeks ago there had been an anonymous complaint raised about your presence in the paddock when you were nothing more than a spectator. Apparently an emotional support animal wasn’t an acceptable reason to travel with Charles and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who laid the complaint.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Charles asked as you placed a plate of food in front of him. 

“I’m getting paid to do what I would normally do anyway,” you pointed out once again. “And dad said I needed to get a job.”

You had been hired by Ferrari to work in the hospitality building; running food orders, making drinks, tidying the driver’s rooms. Okay, maybe the job was more than you would normally do, but not by much. At least you were kept busy and boredom no longer plagued you. 

“I didn’t realise you needed the money,” he murmured as he stabbed a seasoned chicken breast with his fork. His credit card in your handbag was yours to use however you wanted, he had assured you of that time and time again, and it was the only reason his apartment was furnished so brightly. You could never have done that on the measly savings in your bank account. 

“I don’t, but I’m not going back to Monaco on my own.” That was the consequence if you didn’t become an employee, at least while the Covid restrictions were in place. 

“Hmm, god knows what trouble you would get up to there on your own,” he chuckled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Something had been off about him all morning, but you knew he would talk about it when he was ready so you let it drop.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you said with a wink as you leaned closer and laid a napkin on his lap. “I believe you called me a good girl just last night.”

You left the dining area before he could respond and met Sebastian at the beverage station. He was another of the drivers you had befriended, though much like he was to Charles, it was more in a father-figure role. The German was a gentle soul and you always had time for him, even when he called you out for the feelings you thought you were able to conceal in public.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” he commented as you made his coffee - double shot espresso with a dollop of froth, no sugar. 

“You obviously need this coffee to wake you up, Bassy, you are clearly dreaming,” you said as you placed it in front of him and showed your bare arms. “I have no sleeves.”

Sebastian smiled as he lifted the cup to his lips, the words entertaining him but not fooling him. “There is a little get together tonight with some of the other drivers. I think everyone is feeling a little isolated from society right now and could do with socialising. You should come.”

You gave a noncommittal shrug because you weren’t sure if Charles would be one of those other drivers, he hadn’t mentioned anything to you. “Maybe, it depends how busy I am picking up your dirty laundry.”

“My wife trained me well, maybe you are thinking of the wrong room.” He placed the empty mug down and departed with a wink. 

The rest of the day passed quickly and you made yourself comfortable in Charles’ room while you waited for him to finish his media duties. It wasn’t unexpected that he took longer since it was the first of the two Italian GPs, he had given you warning that the team’s homerace would be more hectic. Pierre was the first to invite himself in, lounging on the other seat wanting to know the gossip around the paddock. 

“Don’t lie, I know the best gossip comes from the kitchens,” he begged when you said there was nothing of interest. 

“What can I say? Everyone is tight lipped after Nora and Damien caught covid.”

That had been the hottest gossip of the week because Nora was from Renault and Damien from Racing Point. Both teams were still arguing over who gave it to who and there were talks of suspension because they were sneaking into each other’s rooms instead of isolating. 

“Ah bon,” he huffed. “Are you coming tonight?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to ask Charles what the plan is,” you answered as you checked your phone again to see no messages and the afternoon was dragging. “What is taking him so long?”

“You’re waiting here for him?” Pierre frowned as he sat up a little straighter. “He was heading back to the hotel after he finished, he had to go pick up Charlotte from the airport.”

You tried to police your face but from the pity on Pierre’s it was clear you failed to hide the disappointment, shock and betrayal. Charles had been quieter in the last few days but everything you asked what was wrong he said nothing and then distracted you.

“Sorry, I thought you knew and that’s why you were still hiding out here.” He stood up and reached into the pocket of his Toro Rosso jacket to grab his car keys. “Wanna catch a ride with me?”

You didn’t really want to go back to the hotel room you had been sharing with Charles but had no idea where else you could go. You definitely needed to change out of the Ferrari uniform you wore but you didn’t want to see Charlotte if you could help it. Why was she even here?

“I don’t know, but from his mood I’m guessing Charles didn’t invite her.”

You didn’t realise you had asked that aloud and you concentrated on your shoes as you stood up and followed him out to the carpark. You almost asked him to turn around and take you back to the paddock but there would probably be more gossip spread if you slept in Charles’ driver’s room instead of the hotel.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said as you stepped out of Pierre’s car. 

“No problem. Text me if you want a ride to the party.”

You weren’t exactly in the mood to party but the idea of liquor was growing on you so you said maybe and departed. Walking into the hotel, you passed the designer stores that lined the first two floors and felt the black credit card calling, but it was probably the devil whispering in your ear. And not for the first time you listened. 

Charles checked his phone as he received another notification from his bank. One part of him was pleased to know you were at least near the hotel since the charges were to the shops below, but a larger part was sick knowing you were lashing out because of the message he had left in your room down the hall. 

The shower turned off as his phone vibrated again and a bitter laugh bubbled at the $50k debit he saw for Prada before Charlotte appeared from the bathroom. There was a time before you showed up back in his life where he found her beautiful but now he could only imagine your face when he held her. He really had to do something about this because no matter how disinterested or rude he was, she ignored it to remain in his life. Looking away as she reached the bed, he returned his focus to his phone and sent a message to the person he actually wanted to be with.

The hotel room was silent when you finally built up the courage to leave the shops and take the elevator to the higher floors. The housekeepers had swept through and placed everything back where it belonged except for one square sheet of hotel-embossed paper.

Charlotte is here so I will be staying with her for the week. I’m sorry, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you in person. Love, Charles x

You sneered at the paper as your phone vibrated. “Love, my ass.”

Charles: Ma biche, if you are trying to bankrupt me you are going to have to do better than that. 

You: I just want to look good for the party tonight. Never know who I might take back to my room.

You slammed the stack of receipts down beside the note and went to see that his bags were gone from the bedroom. Your lip curled back in disgust and you tore the protective sheath off the little black dress you had purchased with his money. If he was going to be a coward then he would suffer the consequences of it. You were sick of waiting for them to break up, maybe their delusions for a perfect image actually made them perfect for each other.

Charles slammed his phone onto the bedside drawer and pushed Charlotte’s advancing hands away. “I’m not in the mood.”

Rolling her eyes, she settled amongst the pillows and crossed her arms. “You’re never in the mood anymore.”

“Whatever, just get dressed,” Charles ordered as he kicked his suitcase over before unzipping it and grabbing a clean set of clothes. “We’re going out.”

“I just got here.”

“So? It’s a party.” He didn’t even glance her way as he pulled his Ferrari shirt over his head and replaced it with a plain white t-shirt before moving onto his jeans. 

“Will Y/N be there?”

Charles’ foot caught in the legging and he nearly tipped over. “I don’t know,” he lied.

Charlotte knew him well enough to know when he was lying, or telling half truths - those were almost as common as breathing to him lately. 

–

Since social gatherings were frowned upon, the group had met in a large field that the motorhomes parked in near the Monza track. A roughly cut metal oil drum glowed with a fire and golden embers floated off into the evening light as you navigated your way in new heels to the circle of couches around it. 

“I think I overdressed,” you joked to Pierre as a dozen pairs of eyes flickered your way. There was no denying that you looked amazing, but you were more suited for the red carpet than a backyard bonfire. You should have gone with jeans and a shirt like Pierre wore when he picked you up.

“I think you look beautiful,” Max said with a smile as he shifted on his seat to make space for you. “You can sit here.”

You returned the smile and carefully stepped over the legs outstretched to warm by the fire. One pair of eyes burned into you but you pointedly ignored him as he sat opposite the flames with Charlotte on his lap. You stood in front of Max and put your hands on your hips as you cocked an eyebrow at the narrow space between him and the armrest. 

“I have caught you checking out my ass enough times, Verstappen, you know it’s not going to fit there,” you said with a smirk. 

An annoyed humph came from beyond the flames and Charles started to push Charlotte to her feet. “I’ll get you a seat.”

“She can sit here,” Max reiterated as he spread his legs back to get comfortable in his chair and patted his thigh.

“Mate…”

“Such a gentleman.” You turned on your heel, meeting the furious Monegasque whose eyes reflected the fire that was burning within him too. You held his steely gaze as you lowered yourself down onto Max’s lap, feeling the form fitting dress that barely covered your thighs ride even higher. 

“I didn’t think so many of you guys would actually be here,” you said as you draped an arm over Max’s shoulder to help balance on your perch. His arm curled around your back so his hand rested lazily on your hip and his eyes darted to Charles, the blue hue almost screaming at him, ‘what a fool’. 

“I only came for you,” Max admitted as he tore his eyes away to look at you. Those eyes narrowed and he brushed he cupped your face, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You’re wearing makeup. Why?”

You frowned, wondering if maybe the makeup artist had done a terrible job and Max shook his head. “You look beautiful,” he assured you as he saw the worry-lines crease your forehead. “You always look beautiful, but you don’t need makeup, schat.”

 You didn’t correct him on the endearment and he seemed to take it as a victory as his smile grew wider. Maybe you would have reminded him of the rules on friendship before the interruption, or maybe you would have just tucked the wayward strand of dirty blonde hair back where it had fallen over his face. 

“I’m glad you made it,” Seb said, breaking the tension as he leaned over a cooler and offered a bottle of Jagermeister. “You look like you could use this.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled as you cracked the cap off. “You could have given me a little more information about this ‘party’.”

“Where is the fun in that?” Kimi muttered to himself as he sipped vodka from a teacup. The white china and blue glaze depicted an ancient scene and you stared at it as you took a swig straight from the bottle. Disgust screwed up your face at the taste before shivering, making both of the older men laugh. 

“Ugh, I’ll take the rocket fuel please.” You didn’t give Kimi a chance to pull away as you stole the teacup and handed him the dark green bottle instead, though you were sure with those driver reflexes he could have moved if he wanted to. “That’s better,” you sighed as you tasted the drink to find it was a vodka lemonade mix. “I thought you would drink this stuff straight.”

“I’m not Russian,” he said as he jutted his chin across to Daniil who was in fact drinking pure vodka with Daniel, though the latter was coughing thanks to it. Reaching into the cooler, glass and ceramic clattered before he settled back into his foldout lawn chair with another china teacup that you didn’t bother to question.

Conversations between the drivers flowed, voices cresting and receding with the topics they were passionate about. Your stomach sloshed with alcohol and your body relaxed against Max’s, his smile growing when you rested your cheek on his head as you listened to him talk about the first thing he would do when the restrictions were lifted. It was to go to his friend’s concert, Martin Garrix to be specific.

“No fucking way,” Pierre laughed. “Not this again!”

You lifted your head and peered across the circle to where George and Alex were arguing over the suggested game of Truth or Dare.

“What are you? Prepubescent teenagers?” you teased as Alex took a pro-stance on playing. 

“No, Lando only looks it,” George joked.

“Hey!” The young McLaren driver spluttered with an indignant laugh. “Rude.”

“Leave little Lando alone. He got his first pube just last week,” Daniel chimed in before adding, “I’ll play. Max?”

Max shrugged with a quiet, “Sure.”

Alex grinned wider and elbowed George. “See, it’s fun.”

The younger half of the drivers around the circle started the game, daring each other to do silly little things that their PR teams would frown at or confiding the secrets they answered for a truth. Your ribs hurt from laughing until Daniel called your name. 

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you replied just so you didn’t have to get up from your cosy spot on Max’s lap. 

“Have you kissed a driver here?”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed on you through the flames and you grinned at Daniel as you combed your fingers into the short hair at Max’s nape. “Yes.”

“Who?” Daniel looked at Max, Pierre and Charles before returning to Max.

Your head tipped back with a laugh. “That’s not how the game works, Danny. It’s not your turn anymore. It’s mine. Max?”

“Hmm, yes?” he hummed as he looked into your eyes.

“Truth or dare?”

He debated the option for a moment before exhaling. “Dare.”

“I dare you to take me out.”

“You didn’t need a game for that,” he chuckled. “When?”

“Breakfast, tomorrow.” You leaned in and brushed your lips over his cheeks that flushed pink an instant after you whispered in his ear. “We could even make it breakfast in bed.”

You hadn’t noticed Charles had left his seat until you heard his voice beside you, plonking himself down on the cooler while he sparked up a pointless conversation with Seb. 

“Charles, truth or dare?” Max asked, noticing how still your body went and the stiffening of your spine. 

Charles turned slowly, his eyes drifting over the space where your body met Max’s and a sneer tugged at his lips. “I don’t play childish games.”

“Just the adult kind, right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said with that innocent smile that had fooled you. 

“Of course you don’t.” Max turned his attention to the fire pit and the woman sitting on her own, attempting to hold an air of carefree relaxation despite her gaze always returning to you with a scowl. “Charlotte, truth or dare?”

“Max.” You jumped at the sharp bite to Charles’ reprimand but Max didn’t even glance his way as he waited for the woman to choose.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to finish Kyvat’s drink.”

Pierre’s teammate grinned as he offered the tumbler that was half full of vodka. To give her credit, she only winced with the first swallow but she downed the spirit and cocked an eyebrow that challenged Max, is that all you have for me?

A cruel smile tipped up and she licked the drop of alcohol that clung to her lips, the burn of the vodka quickly hitting her veins and travelling to her head. “My turn.”

Charles abandoned his conversation when Charlotte called your name and the slight shake of his head warned you not to answer. 

But he had pissed you off.

“Truth.”

The choice echoed around the circle as everyone fell silent. Pressure brewed like a lightning storm approaching and everyone felt the charged atmosphere.

Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them, staring you dead in the eye as she found the courage she had been missing for months. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?”

Max’s fingers stopped drawing abstract circles on your hip and Charles burst to his feet. “Charlotte!”

“What? It’s just a game, Cha,” she replied with a bland look of boredom. 

“It’s not appropria-”

“3 years,” you cut him off, your eyes never leaving hers. If she wanted the truth then she could have it. “The 8th of August 2017, if you want to count the precise days.”

“What?” Confused murmurs broke around the fire.

“Oh, shit,” Pierre laughed as he looked closer at you then to his friend who had frozen still. “She’s that chick you hooked up with at Jimmyz?”

Charles dragged a hand down his face but ended it with a nod before turning to his girlfriend. “It was before us, mon amour.” 

The way he said it made it appear it was only before they got together, ever the liar, and even you rolled your eyes.

“So you two…and your parents…” Kimi whistled before keeping his mouth busy with a drink. He was quietly enjoying the brimming heat too much for someone nicknamed the Iceman.

“My father was out getting a haircut-“

“-at my mother’s salon-“

“-when we met. I guess they kept in contact after we left.”

Charles turned his attention to Charlotte but she was already storming her way across the field. With a sigh, he made his way after her and you wondered if it was finally the day that you had been holding out for, the one where she would dump him. 

“She should have asked when you last fucked him.” The words were a whisper in your ear as everyone else returned to their own conversations, the game clearly over, but you knew those conversations were about you. Max sensed your discomfort, though even a blind man would have been able to see it. “Want to get out of here?”

“You still want to go somewhere with me?” It seemed unbelievable that he hadn’t thrown you off his lap.

“Everyone has a history,” Max said with a shrug. “I don’t care about your past…just your future.”

You left without a goodbye under the watchful eye of Seb but you didn’t miss the elbow George gave Alex, muttering sarcastically, “Oh yeah, let’s play truth or dare, he said, it will be fun, he said.”

“I didn’t know that was going to happen.” The angry whisper of a reply followed your departure and it seemed Alex was the only one too innocent to see what had been in front of them all along. 

Charles' car was already missing from the makeshift parking lot and you slipped into the passenger seat of Max’s Aston Martin before he closed the door for you. 

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, can we just drive? I feel like a fucking idiot,” you laughed bitterly. All the memories made with Charles seemed to crumble like sandcastles with the tide as you remembered how he had chased after her. He always did, and it seemed he always would. Actions screamed louder than words. “He’s really not who I thought he was.”

“I’ve known Charles most of his life and I don’t think he even knows who he is,” Max said as he laced his fingers with yours and headed to the city. “Are you hungry?”

“No, but I have a full mini bar that is getting billed to Charles. Want to help me empty it?”

Max shared a conspiratorial grin as he headed to the hotel and when you walked past Charles’ room down the hall, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. 

“What are you doing?” Max asked with a laugh as you hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the front door. You closed the door and leant against it, Max’s eyes following the curve of the Chanel dress, down the length of your legs to the Prada shoes and back up to the Bvlgari diamond necklace that accentuated the valley of your breasts.

“Making sure this party doesn’t get crashed.” 

—

It was a miracle there had been no complaint made as you turned the stereo up and pretended you knew how to mix drinks. 

“Max!” You fell into a fit of laughter as he poured four of the miniature gin bottles into the cocktail shaker, adding it to the three bottles of vodka you had put in. “That is pure alcohol.” 

He shook the container and poured the clear liquid into two glasses, spilling some as he reached the same level of drunkenness as you. “No, it’s just water. Here, taste it.” He tipped his glass back, his face pinching before he blew out a burst of burning air from his throat and spluttered a cough. “Mhmm, good water that.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk,” you shouted over the pounding in your head, but you knocked the drink back anyway. 

“You’re already drunk,” he countered, dropping into the couch and pulling you down with him. Empty bottles littered the coffee table and the dining table, the expensive mini bar almost empty. “I’m just keeping you that way.”

You settled on his lap and fingered the dirty blonde hair that was longest at the top of his head. “Is that so you can have your way with me?”

His eyes danced over your body, lingering on your thighs as your dress barely covered them. “No, schat,” he said with a small shake of his head as he cupped your face. “When I have you I want you to know that you chose me, clear headed and completely sober. Even if I really just want to fucking kiss you right now.”

You drew your lip between your teeth at the thought and his blue eyes darkened with envy. “We could just kiss?” you suggested as you shifted to straddle his hips.

“I don’t think it would be that easy to just stop there.”

“Fine.” Your hands stroked the column of his neck, feeling the cords of muscle that tensed under your touch before you traced his collarbones with your thumbs. “Truth or dare?”

He inhaled sharply and tipped his head back, watching intently as you popped the first button on his shirt and opened the collar wider. He didn't appear to breathe as you kissed the hollow at the base of his throat. He exhaled, knowing what you wanted to hear, “Dare.”

Your teeth grazed his racing pulse and he shuddered beneath you before you pulled back. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Perhaps it took having the flame of Charles extinguished for you to feel the spark of Max because this time when he pulled you close and captured you with a kiss you felt that spark ignite. 

—

You looked around the parking lot seeing all the other mothers dropping their children off for the first day of school. They all kissed their kids on the cheeks after a tight hug and said their goodbyes, complete with teary I love you’s. Confused, you frowned at the large hand that gripped your school bag and followed the arm up to your father. 

“Daddy, why isn’t my mummy here?”

He had known the question was coming, he just didn’t think it would be from his five year old. He thought he had more time to prepare as he dropped to one knee and held your hands. “Your mother was sick and she needed to leave so she could get better.”

“But she never came back.”

“Sometimes, that’s what’s for the best.” He kissed your forehead and draped your backpack over your shoulders, the weight more than just the lunchbox and books it carried. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I will always be here for you, pumpkin.”

You woke in a cold sweat and felt the haunting thought the dream had inspired linger in your brain as you slipped out of the sheets. Beside you, Max slept soundly with one hand buried under a pillow and the other stretched across the bed as if he was searching for you. 

You didn’t regret sleeping with Max, though part of you felt he surely would, and you watched his back rise and fall a few times as you dressed. You were busy trying to write a note, tearing off each piece that failed to convey what you wanted to say and balling it up, that you didn’t hear Max’s footsteps. You jumped in surprise as his hands came to rest on your hips and his lips teased the same sweet spot beneath your ear that he had found last night. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked as he saw your bags by the door and he saw the latest attempt of a note. Max, thank you for last night. How about a raincheck on our-

“I think it's time to go home,” you admitted as you turned in his arms and draped yours around his neck. “Because the next time we do this, I want you to know that I chose you, clear headed and completely sober.”

He chuckled, surprised you could remember what he said. Then his own hungover haze lifted and he realised what else you said. “Next time?”

“I still want you to take me to breakfast,” you assured him with a smile. “How about you call me when you’re back in Monaco?”

“It’s a date.” He tipped your head back and kissed you with the same passion that left your toes curling and your body warmed with the memory of how that kiss had led to much more last night. But Max was sober and more in control of himself as he reluctantly broke away first.  “Do you want me to take you to the airport?”

“No, thank you, I’m going to drive back. Take a bit of time to myself and figure my shit out.”

Max frowned. “You don’t have a car.”

“Yet,” you said with a wink. “But if the offer for a ride is still on the table…there is somewhere you can drop me off.”

—

Charles woke to a call from his bank and he swallowed deeply as he listened to the request to release $250k to a dealership. There was only one reason you would buy a car and the thought left him feeling empty as the bed he woke up alone in. It was a surprise there was no noise complaint after the argument he had with Charlotte, the one where he snapped and broke things off. She had left in a rage and he didn’t have the decency to ask where she went. 

He had gone to your room, his feet carrying him light on a breeze as he finally had what he wanted. But then he had seen the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and heard your laughter sneak through the panel of wood that separated him from where he should have been. 

Sitting up in bed, he wiped away the tears that had dried on his cheeks overnight. 

“Yes, allow the payment to proceed,” he muttered, though the sound of his voice was no longer one he recognised. 

Charles: Drive safe, ma biche x You: I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in person.  Charles: I guess I deserved that.

Click here for the final chapter.

[existential-muffin]

I know it's been a little while since the Trigun Stampede hype has ended but, I can't get this main criticism out of my head after reading the manga--- I wish that they had made hints about Vash's willpower to restrain his anger.

In Stampede, he has the meek pacifist down, but he is mostly led by guilt. He doesn't hurt people because he thinks the planets' issues are all his fault and wants some form of punishment. In a way, it's self-inflicted flogging, which is what Knives says in the last few episodes of season 1.

In Maximum, he has guilt, but he also has a temper and often says that he does have thoughts of wanting to kill his enemies. But every single time, he still doesn't kill the object of his anger.

I think Maximums version of Vash pacifism is so much more meaningful. It's not self pity, it pure determination.

In Max, he actually feels like something that isn't human, and he is so scary if you really think about it from the normal human perspective. He is an other worldly angel/eldritch creature and he WILLINGLY chooses not to hurt people---when he has good reason too--- and instead offers kindness and second chances.

Since Stampde is supposed to be following Maximum closer than the 98 anime, I was hoping that they would still show that side of him. Who knows, maybe they will touch on it in the second season.

[albonify]

Two Ghosts - Oscar Piastri

Summery: Y/N and Oscar see each other again after months but they’re both a lot different than they were before.

Warnings: angst, none

based off of Two Ghosts by Harry Styles

Same lips red, same eyes blue

Same white shirt, couple more tattoos

But it's not you and it's not me

Tastes so sweet, looks so real

Sounds like something that I used to feel

But I can't touch what I see

Oscar was just looking for a nice night in after his rookie season ended, but Lando had dragged him to this bar near the hotel and track. Almost the whole grid was there and Oscar just wanted to go back to the hotel. It was a very nice bar, it had lots of space to dance and a huge bar, but Oscar just didn’t like going out. He would much rather be sleeping right now.

He had been with Lando and had a few drinks with him before Lando had went off to dance with a girl that had dragged him away. As soon as Lando left, Oscar had gotten up from the booth he was at and sat down at the bar. Oscar ordered another drink and immediately shrunk. As he waited for his drink he looked around bored, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

The bartender handed him his drink, Oscar thanked him and was about to take a sip when something or rather someone familiar caught his eye. He did a double take, not believing his eyes the first time. He looked more closely this time just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks. And they weren’t. Out on the dance floor was Y/N, his childhood best friend he hadn’t seen in months. There she stood, with her red lips and blue eyes, her hair flowing as she moved. She hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw her.

Y/N’s eyes locked onto his. She was shocked to see him again after their falling out months ago. He had randomly stopped answering her messages, leaving her alone. She was upset for a long time afterwards but decided she needed to move on. She had stopped watching F1 and had unfollowed him on all socials. But something she couldn’t forget were their memories, or the tattoos she had gotten for him as a surprise but never got to show him.

As she looked at his outfit she realized he was wearing the same white shirt he had worn when she last saw him. They were at her apartment, watching a movie in her room. This was normal for them, having been friends since they were kids. She looks at him again. He hadn’t changed one bit since she last saw him. Still tall, broad, muscular and awkward. And no matter how much pain he put her through by randomly leaving, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

Oscar decided he had stared at her long enough and went to go talk to her, when her dress rode up a bit allowing Oscar to see a tattoo he had never seen before. He walked towards her to get a closer look. It was a butterfly with the words ‘everything happens for a reason’ written underneath it. It was then he realized she had a lot of tattoos now. The girl having none the last time he saw her.

He tried to see all of her tattoos, the thigh butterfly, the ‘777’ on her wrist, and the ‘16’ on her pinky. He remembers her telling him about those numbers as a kid, her lucky number having been 16 and her lucky number and her favorite number being the 777 angel number. As she moved her hair he saw a small tattoo behind her ear but couldn’t get a good look at it.

He had finally built the courage to go up to her. As he got closer he noticed how different she actually had been. She didn’t have the same glitter in her eyes anymore and her smile wasn’t as bright anymore.

Y/N watched as Oscar got closer. The more steps he took the more she noticed the subtle changes he had. His eyes showed a little bit more distance and his mouth closed a little bit tighter.

They had both changed so much since they last saw each other. But weather it shows or not, neither of them are the same anymore.

“Hi” Oscar said breathlessly as he looked at the girl he hadn’t seen in months. Though it was all his fault and he regrets it terribly. After watching a movie at her apartment he had realized that his feelings for her were deeper than friendship. He had decided to run from her as to not get his feelings hurt, unknowingly hurting hers in the process.

“Hello Oscar” Oscar watched her face as she spoke, her eyes had clouded slightly as she said his name and he felt guilt take over his body knowing it was his fault she was like this. “How have you been?”

Oscar takes a moment to reply to her, wondering if he should tell her the truth ‘i’ve been awful, im sorry i left its because i was in love with you and i had a feeling you felt the same and i didn’t want to make things awkward’

“Fine” He had replied to her question “How have you been?” Y/N doesn’t want to answer, not because she doesn’t want to talk to Oscar again, but because she truly doesn’t know.

“I’ve been fine aswell” Y/N says instead of asking the questions roaming her head, ‘why did you leave me?’ ‘did you know i loved you?’ ‘were you gonna come back?’ ‘when did you decided to leave’. She shook her head to rid the questions.

The space between them had become awkward. Oscar clears his throat to speak. “I saw you got some tattoos” he said, pointing to her wrist.

“Oh yeah!” Y/N smiles brightly at the mention of her tattoos. “I have 5 now!” 5? Oscar asks himself, he had only seen 3?. But his thought were cut short by Y/N speaking again.

“The ‘777’ on my wrist, the ‘16’ on my pinky, the butterfly on my thigh, the…” Y/N hesitates as she thinks of the other two tattoos. Does she really want to show them to the guy she got them for as a surprise but never got to show him? So she compromises.

“And then I have one behind my ear and one on my back” she had finished the list, purposefully not telling him what they were. This made Oscar curious as to what they were. Why would she not tell him what they were like she did the other 3? Were they regretful ones, ones that didn’t turn out well? Y/N could tell he had questions but was grateful he didn’t ask them.

The air between them was tense and awkward as they just looked at each other. Neither of them speaking because they didn’t know what to say. Y/N looked at the ground and Oscar looked at Y/N.

“OP81 and a race car” Y/N had said quietly, still looking at the floor. Oscar was confused, having not heard what she said. “What?”

“My tattoos, behind my ear is ‘OP81’ and on my back is a race car.” Y/N said taking a breath “I had gotten them as a surprise but never got to show them to you”. Y/N said, more clearly this time.

Oscar looks at her shocked, she had gotten tattoos for him? and he had left her? He felt like the biggest idiot ever.

Oscar just looked at her “I- I didn’t know” he stuttered as he grabbed her hand.

Y/N looked up at him “Of course not” and she removed her hand from his.

As they stood there, looking at each other Oscar knew she was no longer in love with him and Y/N knew that Oscar no longer knew her.

They knew there was no way they could ever be friends anymore, let alone more than friends, They knew this was goodbye. They weren’t the people they were a few months ago. They were just strangers, trying to remember how it was before each other.

We're not who we used to be

We're not who we used to be

We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

[fredwkong]

Virgo Season: Blaine

Blaine just wanted this long nightmare of a conference over. There were still events on the schedule, but there were only a few of Pastor Blanco’s adherents left at the Astra Hotel. The incident in the conference hall had confirmed for the few remaining normal people that ordinary men were being transformed into depraved freaks.

Blaine had known for over a week now. That was why he hadn’t been attending any events. He had watched his friend, Spencer, become infected by whatever force was changing the men in the Astra.

Blaine and Spencer had been evangelists in Houston their whole lives, managers of adjoining branches in the movement. Friends since childhood, it had just made sense that they came to a conference as important as Pastor Blanco’s together and had rooms next to each other. They shared meals and compared notes on the proceedings after the events. It was a joke between them that Blaine and Spencer were closer to each other than either of them were to their wives.

The difference between them was that Spencer was much more aggressive about evangelising. From the instant that the freaks had first appeared in the Astra Hotel, Blaine had known they were beyond help, not worth the time and effort to save. But Spencer had doggedly persisted, striking up conversations with the youngest, most impressionable-looking queers whenever he could. It had seemed harmless, so Blaine hadn’t said anything.

But one morning, Spencer walked out of his room in leather pants. He had just said they were “comfortable,” but the Spencer Blaine knew would never have worn something like that. And he’d had what looked like a tattoo peeking out from his shirtsleeves.

That night, Spencer had begged off their usual debrief of the day’s events. Blaine had noticed he’d seemed uncomfortable during a bunch of the presentations, but didn’t want to ask about it. Instead, still in those tight leather pants, Spencer had strutted out of Blaine’s hotel room and gotten in the elevator, headed God knows where.

The next morning, an unrecognisable leatherman had stepped out of Spencer’s room, and Blaine had just known, with cold certainty, that this man had been Spencer before.

Since then, Blaine had barely left his room. He had tried to move up his flight, even considered driving back to Houston, but he couldn’t bring himself to commit. What if he could still do something to save Spencer? Blaine had never put much stock in exorcisms or purification rituals, but something dark and supernatural was clearly happening here.

Surfing the internet, Blaine had stumbled on some kind of strange ritual meant to purify someone who had lost themselves to false worship. After days of little sleep and intense anxiety, Blaine was willing to try anything.

Just as he collected the items he would need and began to steel himself to leave his room and knock on Spencer’s door, a note was pushed under Blaine’s door. He went and picked it up.

Miss u man. Can we talk? —Spence

Spencer—Spence—answered his door at Blaine’s first knock. It was midafternoon, and he seemed to be dressed down, compared to when Blaine had last seen him. Loose button-up shirt open to his toned belly, sleeves rolled up to show intricate forearm tattoos, looser leather pants. Blaine found himself cataloguing Spence as he followed the man into his hotel room. He had something of Spencer’s gait, his height and age, but Spence took up space. He was all angles and sex appeal, unlike Spencer, who women had always described as safe and cuddly. Unlike Blaine, for whom the compliment had always been that he was “conscientious.”

“What’s up?” said Spence in a deeper, louder voice than Blaine was used to, sitting down on the bed and spreading his legs. “I feel like it’s been ages since I saw you. Did getting a few days off from the convention help?”

It was now or never. Blaine flung a handful of salt in Spence’s face, opened his Bible to the marked passage, and started to read aloud. His hand shook so much that half the salt poured down his own clothes.

Spence looked down at himself, brushing salt grains off his shirt. “What the hell, dude? Is this, like, some roleplay thing?” He suddenly smirked. “Ooh, like an uptight evangelist getting seduced by a hot, hedonistic leatherman? That sounds pretty hot.”

Blaine tried to tune Spence out and keep reading. It was hard. Spence laid himself out on his mattress, as if he was bound spreadeagle. He seemed to know exactly how to pose himself to show off his thick, hairy chest through the gap in his shirt. He grinned up as Blaine kept reading.

“Father,” Spence said, “are you sure you wanna preach to me? I got a sermon you might like, too.” He thrust his hips a bit, showing off a thick bulge.

Why was Blaine’s mouth watering? He refocussed on reading. He knew these words off by heart, they were automatic. He’d missed Spence so much this last week. Instead of trying to exorcise him, he wanted to give the shorter man a hug. He wanted to let his hands run down Spence’s body, to that tight ass in his leather pants. Give that bulge a squeeze, maybe a lick…

It was so warm in this room. Still reading from his Bible, Blaine efficiently stripped off his dress shirt. He and Spence had seen each other like this back when they were roommates in college. Anyway, Spence seemed to appreciate the view, biting his lip as Blaine bared his body. It was normal, just a step in the process. Soon, Blaine would have Spence back to normal.

“Damn, Father, when’d you get those tattoos?” Spence asked. “Looking more like a Daddy than a Father.”

Confused, Blaine glanced away from the page, still speaking the words aloud. His arms holding up the Bible looked unfamiliar. Muscular, coated in hair, and covered in tattoos. As Blaine began to speak the next verse, he watched the transformation push further up his biceps. They rounded out with thick muscle, a layer of fine black hair, and an interlacing network of tattoos.

Spence was looking at Blaine like he wanted to eat him alive. Why was Blaine the one changing? Why was he still reading? Blaine tried to stop, but the words continued to flow. Horrified, he flung the Bible away, but still continued to recite the verses from memory.

The tattoos and muscle continued to spread, filling out Blaine’s shoulders as thick hair grew in his armpits, spreading a virile, masculine scent as Blaine sweat in the heat. His chest and belly bulked up with muscle and fat. His reciting voice deepened as the change rushed up his neck and over his head. His face became more masculine as piercings appeared in his brows, his hair receded, and wide gauges appeared in his ears.

His pants felt so tight. Blaine found himself unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his growing legs, watching in horror as the tattoos followed the muscles and hair right down to his ankles. Hadn’t he been wearing underwear before? Why was he commando? Why was his thick cock getting hard?

Blaine rested a hand at the base of his cock as he kept on reciting. He wanted to run right out of the Astra Hotel, but found his feet rooted to the spot. He couldn’t even control his face enough to cry or grimace, just continued to blankly recite the Bible at Spence.

Spence flipped around on the bed, presenting his leather-clad ass to Blaine as he watched the transformation over his shoulder. “Yes, Daddy,” he said, giving his ass a slap to try and encourage Blaine. “No need for an annoying church controlling you when all you gotta worship is this ass.”

Had Blaine somehow turned his ritual on himself? He couldn’t help but agree with Spence that the church could be pretty controlling, plus Spence did have a pretty nice ass. Blaine found himself drooling at the sight. It wasn’t that weird. He and Spence had been so close all their lives, and Spence had always been such a showoff sex fiend. It was what had gotten Blaine out from under the thumb of the church back in college…

Something about that thought didn’t feel right, but it all seemed correct in Blaine’s memories. Being Spence’s roommate had unlocked thoughts and feelings for Blaine that he’d never known he had. His sexual life, spiritual independence, their shared love for leather, it had all come from college.

Blaine ground out the next verse, shifting his footing as he started to stroke his big cock at the sight of Spence’s hot ass presented just for him. He was almost done the recitation. Why had he decided to roleplay this again? He’d just wanted a break from the kink conference, and a chance to have his husband of twenty years all to himself.

Finally, Blaine finished reciting the Bible verses. All that time spent memorising the Bible back in his misspent youth definitely helped this kind of roleplay. Fully “corrupted” by Spence, transformed into Daddy instead of Father, Blaine threw himself onto the bed and yanked Spence’s pants down with a single motion of his strong, tattooed arms. Spence moaned as Blaine dove into his ass, eating him out with the passion of a demon.

After they’d both cum all over the sheets, Blaine and Spence lay next to each other. “You ready to head back down, babe?” Spence asked. “I think Dan’s hosting a dom/sub workshop in the conference hall.”

“That sounds fuckin’ awesome,” Blaine slurred, half asleep. “Go find our caps.”

His husband always had the best ideas. He loved Spence so much.

Click here to see all of Virgo Season.

If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Let's Talk About Tech (Or Not)

Tags for people who I feel like would have some interesting thoughts about this: @eriexplosion @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @inkstainedhandswithrings @saturn-sends-hugs @the-bi-space-ace

One of the most frequent comments I see about season 3 so far is the lack of discussion surrounding Tech and what happened, and I want to look at this from two angles: the personal aspect and the context within its position in the show. Because while we're all getting frustrated about it, I think it's something that definitely deserves a closer look.

The Personal Side

One of the biggest questions people have so far is why are the Batch not talking about Tech? Losing a brother is very significant for them and it seems like it would be something that they would talk about more. They discussed the issues they were having following Echo's departure from the group, so why are they not talking about Tech?

I think one of the key things to consider here is time. When we see the Batch talking about Echo, it is only a matter of hours if not days after he went. It would make sense for them to be getting to grips with the situation because they haven't really had time to process it. On the flip side, at the point when we see Wrecker and Hunter, it has been at least 150 rotations from Omega's capture and therefore around 3 months from Tech's fall. A lot of the discussions that they would probably be having about it have likely already happened.

3 months isn't really that long, but in the context of losing someone, and in the context of the lives of these characters specifically, it can be enough time to start moving on. Not to forget it, or to not have it affect them, but to not really discuss it anymore. While I've never lost a sibling, I have lost family members on more than one occasion, and it surprises me how little time it can take for things to go back to "normal". Not to not be thinking about it, or to be 100% okay, but to be able to live life without ever discussing it. This happens particularly when something else significant is going on.

When you have another goal to focus on (in this case, rescuing Omega), you can't always focus on the loss. It sounds stupidly harsh and very much like an arsehole thing to say, but realistically, that is what happens. When you lose someone, you want life to stop, you want everything to pause so that you have time to grieve before you go back to living again. But life doesn't work like that. Things keep moving and sometimes the only thing you can do is focus on the events happening now, not the ones that you have no control over.

I don't think the Batch are ignoring it, or have forgotten about it. I think they've simply started focusing on what they need to be doing: rescuing the people who are still here. They can't get Tech back (as far as they are aware), they can't change anything and so at some point they just have to accept it. They probably did talk about it, did cry about it, but we're 3 months along at this point and they've probably said all they can. And Wrecker and Hunter have only just reunited with Crosshair and Omega. They're not going to instantly jump on that discussion again.

And we don't necessarily need to see the discussions to see how it's affecting them either. Tech's death and Omega's capture have made Hunter more impulsive and reckless. He isn't thinking as clearly as he should and now Wrecker is having to step in as the mediator. Wrecker, who was always the one to jump into a mission and ignore the plan, is having to hold Hunter back from running headfirst into things without thinking. The situation has affected them and is still having lasting effects. Even if they aren't talking about it, it isn't like it's just been totally ignored in the show. Of course we'll have to see if this changes now that most of the Batch are together again, but this is already more than we got with a lot of the other clones (Fives never seeming any different following Echo's "death" for example).

And then there's the matter of Crosshair never questioning why Omega only talks about Wrecker and Hunter. This may be because he already knows about Tech. If Omega has been talking to him on Tantiss, he may already know that his brother is gone. But once again, we are watching the events happening 3 months on at this point. He may have had to compartmentalise that fact the same way that everyone else has. We're saw him and Omega briefly discussing Tech and how he made sure Omega memorised all of the plans. Sure, there was more softness there than sadness, but that's what happens sometimes. Sometimes reminiscing about someone that you lost doesn't make you cry, it makes you smile, because you're remembering the little quirks about them that you love. So no, Omega and Cross haven't been shown talking about Tech's death, but I wouldn't be surprised if he already knows.

In the Context of TV

And now onto the other matter. The fact that all of this is happening as part of a narrative.

I think this is where the lack of conversation about it becomes frustrating: not because it doesn't make sense in the context of the characters themselves, but the fact that we are watching this as part of a show. It doesn't feel right to have something that significant happen only for it to never be mentioned again. We can't really ignore the fact that that happened and move on because while the characters have had time to process things, we haven't seen that. That chunk of the story is missing to us and so it feels unfulfilling to have that turn of events not have enough closure.

Imagine if you lost someone in your life and then you automatically skipped to the point where you were starting to feel somewhat okay again, while removing the entire chunk in the middle where you actually processed things. That is effectively what has happened to us as an audience. Yes, we've had months between seasons, but we have this gap of narrative nothingness between the season 2 finale and the beginning of season 3 where the actual processing would have happened.

So our frustration is justified. Not because it doesn't make sense narratively, or that it doesn't seem right for the characters to be acting the way they are, but because we haven't been able to process the events in the same way that the characters have. The characters aren't discussing it because they don't necessarily need to at this point in time. But we need them to discuss it because that part is missing for us. We haven't seen that bit so we can't fully compute the events.

Yes, it's annoying. Not because it doesn't make sense in the story, but because it doesn't make sense to us. Because as an audience the context is different to that of the characters within the story we are watching.

[l00rem]

Hz ep65 rambles

This is going to be a long post because as expected I am just so incredibly normal about this episode. As someone who has wanted a deeper look into liko and amethio’s dynamic since forever i’ve been fed well. When it was clear Amethio wouldn’t be in this arc much I hoped we could at least get an episode with him and liko somehow but i gave up on the possibility, only for the title of 65 to get leaked which made me unable to sleep that day lmao

I know a lot of people are annoyed it’s taken the series so long for them to have a meaningful interaction but tbh i don’t really mind. The pokemon anime seasons last around 150 eps, and with gen 10 looking further away than most next generations hz might be lasting closer to the dp animes length, which makes sense considering it feels more like a one-shot series that won’t carry over into the next gen. It also just makes sense to me that they haven’t had a chat like this until now because why would they? as amethio says, liko was just the girl with the terapagos to him, there was no reason for him to go out of this way to chat with her and she was running from him because he’s the enemy. This episodes made it clear that their dynamic matters with it being the title, so i’m sure they’ll get a lot more moments from here on out.

Anyway, I absolutely adored amethio’s characterisation in this episode. Going into it i’d hoped we’d get to see his softer side and did the writers deliver on that! I love how it’s amethio who makes the initiative easier to talk with liko, there’s no reason for him to do this and what he said only motivates her (his enemy!!) and yet he most likely sees himself in her and so wants to comfort her as there was never anyone there for him… what he said really reminded me of friede’s words at the end of ep45 as well. I wonder if he could potentially become more of a mentor figure to her later on now that he’s been fired, as friede and roy have always felt closer to me in terms of mentor-student bond so it would be nice if liko got that with someone too.

he’s also the one to reach out his hand, which btw is the first time he’s made any physical contact with someone which wasn’t him flying on corviknight. Of course his hands were gloved, i wonder if he’ll take them off at some point? something something gloved symbolic for vulnerability, taking them off shows his trust and comfort…

The timing of putting Amethio next to Grusha also feels very intentional. They’re both cold on the surface but have better intentions deep down. I wonder if the whole Grusha being happier when he was younger will be true for Ame as well?? I can’t help but think about that Charcadet back from ep57 , which seemed so happy and friendly… He even made sort of a smile in this ep?? I don’t think i counts as a proper one, but his eyes are filled with so much love and warmth that it certainly gives the illusion of one. So, of course, order had to be restored by immediately making amethio suffer right after he finally displays some level of happiness

I find it really interesting how Gibeon seems to be bringing up Amethio’s dad in repose to Amethio showing comradeship with the enemy.

I know a lot of people think Amethio was born into explorers, but my personal interpretation is that ame’s dad left after meeting ame’s mom and decided there was more to life then chasing his dad’s wishes. Perhaps she was also a target for one of his missions but he ended up falling in love with her … (i don’t ship ameliko btw, i think the parallel is more love in general than specifically romance). I also don’t think amethio’s dad is alive, amethio seems to cling to gibeon for some reason so my theory has always been that gibeon killed ame’s dad (perhaps he tried to take gibeon down, now we’ve seen what the eternal blessing can do he wouldn’t stand a chance) and then manipulated amethio under the illusion that he’d been abandoned. And now he’s been abandoned again… Gibeon clearly doesn’t give a shit about him, in ep54 he goes all ‘how long has it been since we met like this?’ which sounds warm, like seeing your grandparent in person after so long… but then you realise that gibeon is literally just a long ass corridor away and could call amethio at any time. he chooses not to because he doesn’t care. ‘special regard’ my ass, it’s all manipulation to isolate amethio into thinking he could only belong to explorers. This also makes me wonder if gibeon didn’t actually fall for spinel’s plot as much as he seemed to, maybe he just knows amethio will get desperate in banishment and will try even harder to reclaim his honour (fucking pokezuko lmao) it’s a very evil scheme in that case, gibeon has been shown to hold a lot of intelligence so i hope it does turn out to be the case or else he looks kinda stupid imo

Another detail I loved in this scene was the others reactions, particularly Sango.

She looks genuinely shocked, I think from her pov amethio has always been this pampered prince whose been given everything on a silver platter, she didn’t realise how fragile his place in explorers actually was. I expected this from Onyx, but it shows a lot of nuance for Sango to feel this way too. Also, I’m a Hamber hater so i’m always gonna perceive his actions in a bad light- i don’t think he was showing genuine concern for amethio, it’s more that he knows amethio’s character better than gibeon and so would know that amethio would never betray gibeon. he saw the torture amethio put himself through in training, and said himself he was impressed by his resolve. Hamber’s concern comes from loosing a valuable asset to his master, not because he genuinely cares imo.

This does make me wonder how Ame and Liko will interact from here on out. I think he’ll blame Spinel mostly, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s colder to her next time to make a point to himself that he’s not soft on the enemy. But I hope Liko will notice this, perhaps realise he’s been banished and use this as an opportunity to get to understand him better. She showed him vulnerability this ep, so i hope the tables will turn next time.

I really liked this line too, especially considering liko is a character so centred around empathy. Allow me to speak in my girl who only thinks about umineko voice for a second, but it really reminded me of the core theme ‘without love it can’t be seen’. Liko’s learning that if she doesn’t try to see the perspective of even people who seem to have ill intent, she’ll never understand them. A good lesson for a girl who wants to understand the hearts of others!

Now, as for amethio’s future… Considering his own advice to liko he’s definitely not going to give up like that. He’ll probably continue to train so he can seize terapagos, but in the process will potentially get closer and closer with liko and the rvt. This depends a lot on his situation now he’s been fired- like will he have money? will zir and conia follow him? i get the sense that the writers want to isolate him from them to make it easier to focus on his development (as much as i miss them as a trio) it’d be interesting if they got given to spinel temporality but i’d fear for their safety…

It seems that he’ll be important next arc, i hope now that he’s not in explorers it’ll be much easier to make him show up in a casual setting. I’ve always hoped he’d be relevant in getting Kleavor, mainly bc both Kleavor and Cerueldge have weapon hands so a battle between the two would be cool, especially if he teams up with liko!

Perhaps this is a reach but i’ve been humouring the idea that he might actually form a bond with Carmine.

He is next to her on the poster, which might not actually mean anything… but amethio’s always given me Keiran vibes, i’d love it if she saw keiran in him (especially if he’s going through his emo era) and so wanted to reach out to him as perhaps a way to work out how to approach her brother. It would be really sweet for amethio to get a familial figure who genuinely cares about him, now that he’s in his homeless arc maybe she could take him in for this arc like the sad sopping wet kitten whose been left in a card box in the rain that he is.

So yeah, those are most of my intelligible thoughts that aren’t just me screaming and jumping on the spot. Inevitably this is already my favourite hz episode we’ve gotten so far, and i’m so excited to see where amethio goes from here on out! Please, just let him smile and be happy, he’s suffered enough :,)

[ehh-is-the-name]

TPOT 10 spoilers 'cause BH makes me insane

I mean, c'mon. You can't see this thumbnail and think things are gonna be ok for you mentally if you like blackhole. Like you know what's coming to you.

First things first, let me just scream into the void for a second-

HIS NIGHTMARE IS KILLING PEOPLE AND LETTING THAT CONSUME HIM?????!!?!?

AAAAAAAAAGUH MY HEART??!!???!?

Man- I love Blackhole and this episode just drove the stake into my heart. The fact that he, himself, is a being who causes death by getting too close to people made me writhe in BFB. But actively showing the extent of how it affects him—ack! He knows he causes death, which is why it's so important for him not to kill people, and why he's so strict about the pact rules!!

It makes so much sense... BFB 1 had it all laid out, and TPOT 10 sewed it together.

From the way he was hesitant about helping Flower!!! We know- he knows he's gonna end the world by getting closer, but he gives into it anyway. Instead of putting his foot down to Flower, he gives in to his feeling of wanting to be closer to people—from the way he's so happy about being shrunk—and more later. Then we get that whole thing with everyone about to die.

We know if Four never came, everyone would've died. Blackhole knows that too, from the end of his nightmare. More specific to this clip though, from the scene with Pie and LIY, since he literally just gave in to the urge to get closer and he wants that to never happen again. As a singularity in space, he could appreciate the planet, and life on it, more than other objects. He could see them all interact but never actually interact with them (besides talking), so at this chance of being beckoned, it makes sense that he'd just go "eh, fuck it, alright" then IMMEDIATELY regret his actions. Although his nightmare was about being afraid he'll "give into murderous urges", it can also be interpreted as him being afraid to let go. Something clearly stated in the last scene of his nightmare...

Queue TPOT 10 scene from clip above (I'm so mad that it's only 1 video per post on here)

Over the season we've seen him go from preventing death to just not killing people. It's morphed into his own cut-throat rule for the pact, which, in this context, is fair to see why. He joined the game via him not caring about the consequences, and it's stuck with him, so seeing everyone over and over get away with things made him HAVE to re-enforce to himself that he wasn't allowed. Death PACT doesn't kill people. HE doesn't kill people. He can't allow himself to let go of that regiment.

Obviously, this causes problems in the team- we see the clip. The thing that gets me the most is that this is bona fide trauma we're working with—Fanny telling him to #get-over-it kinda rubbed me the wrong way. And OK! I know- I know that's not exactly what she's saying but that's how it felt, and I know she has every right to be upset 'cause he was fuckin' over his team, but again that's just me! (The fact they got on the same page was enough for me anyway.) I digress, his "obsessive nature" was essentially just a response to everything that's happened to him—it's what makes him feel in control of himself. Poor BH's got trauma bad :(

I think what really twists that knife for me is that... the guy really just wants to connect with his peers normally- He wants everything to go back to normal, and that's one of the reasons he compromises with Fanny. On some level, he knows he's gone too far, but he's just afraid. Even at the end, he can't bring himself to kill Tree, even though he knows it'd be better with the new "focusing on life" angle. Did you hear that shakey exhale? Man's going through the wringer. Obviously, he won't overcome his trauma in an episode, but it's a good step to just playing and enjoying the game.

Anyway... There is probably a shitton of fans that are looking at this like "Yeah no shit Sherlock" but hey! Be nice. Some of us are slower than the others, and by some of us, I mean me. I needed this punch in the face to really see how death was impacting Blackhole's mental state and now I've word vomited my thoughts out.

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus Art Analysis - Getting to the Bottom of It

For ages now it's been a common point of discussion - what's the process involved in Rachel's creation of Lore Olympus?

As a community, we've all discussed and speculated Rachel's process among herself and her assistants and how it seems to result in cheaper art each week. Same face syndrome, the overuse of the multiply tool, the dull backgrounds that often enter nightmare fuel territory, the lack of color vibrancy compared to Season 1, the repetitive poses and shots, the theories that different assistants are handling different aspects of individual panels, the clear lack of buffer, the list goes on and on.

But I think we've finally gotten to the bottom of what's going on. Or at least, deeper than we've gotten before and it feels like now we're closer to fully understanding Rachel's process than ever before.

Normally, I wouldn't care this much about dissecting the steps of creating a comic. Everyone's process is different, and when you're working with a team, that can introduce a whole new layer of understanding. I've worked with my own assistants in the past, trained to work in the animation industry which relies on coordination between people, and fully understand what's required to go into making a finalized piece of work put together by multiple people. All that's to say, having assistants doesn't necessarily mean you do less work.

When it comes to LO, though, I do feel this compulsion to tear into it more because Rachel seems to completely lack this understanding, and it shows in her work.

Before I continue, I want to throw in a quick disclaimer - when we criticize Rachel's art, it's not to throw any of her assistants under the bus. All of her assistants are incredibly skilled in their own right. When I criticize Rachel's art as a whole - regardless of who helped shape it into its final form - I'm criticizing not just the art itself, but her direction. Rachel is, essentially, a director of a team, and how she manages that team reflects how her work looks in the end after it's all been put together. I will be showing pieces of art from her assistants in this essay, none of this is to promote any shame or hate towards these people. This is purely an essay speculating on Rachel's directing capability and how she manages her team and is not meant to be taken as objective fact beyond what I am capable of proving as an outsider looking in. I consider her assistants people who are just being hired to do a job, I do not condone holding them responsible for the nosedive Lore Olympus has taken in quality over the past few years. These are simply points and speculations that myself and the ULO community came to after discussing it at length.

Alright, so, where to begin?

This essay started with me having a simple conversation with @loreolympusminoredits over on Instagram. They had pointed out a couple panels from a recent free episode where you could see the texturing wasn't being applied properly. You have to look really closely, but once you spot it, you can clearly see the outline of a square where the texturing block wasn't repeated.

It's VERY obvious in this last panel of Hades, look along the back of his shirt, you can clearly see the color warping from the texture block overlaid on top of him.

Now, I have a few theories for this on its own, it really depends on what drawing program these assistants are using. Some of them use Clip Studio. Others use Procreate. There is no consistent requirement in workstations or software among the team, which is Rachel's first mistake. There's a reason why the animation and film industry requires everyone to be using Adobe products whether they like it or not - because it keeps things consistent across the board. It doesn't matter how good you are at Clip Studio or how much you like Procreate, you need to be on the same software and hardware as everyone else to ensure that you can access the same tools, brushes, and workflow as the rest of the team. No one wants to have someone working primarily in Clip Studio who can't access the same brushes or files as the people working in Adobe. As much as I personally hate working in Photoshop, if I were to get an industry job, I would be expected to work in Photoshop, no questions asked. It's part of the job.

Moving on from that, this led me to wonder which assistant was doing these panels, because it's clear that this texturing problem is mostly at the end of Episode 242 during the Persephone / Hades conversation. There's also one stand-out feature that tells us it's the same person making these panels - the bobblehead necks.

Bobblehead necks have been a very noticeable feature in the comic's art decline over the past while. They typically happen when a character - especially a female one - is being drawn from the front. They're usually also defined with noticeable jugular and collarbone lines.

So, which assistant is it drawing the bobblehead necks?

Rachel's art team switches up a lot. Sometimes she has 3, sometimes she has as many as 8. Some assistants tag in, others are consistent.

So far the most noticeably consistent assistants in terms of participation since S2.2 (i.e. post-time skip S2) are Dnaeri, HardHeadedWoman, AmyKing89, and HeyItsJaki (as credited on their episodes). They're the usual team credited at the end of episodes, with the exception of maybe one artist not being present or an extra artist tagging in.

Upon checking their Instagrams, I am becoming way more certain of who does what and how Rachel does her process.

Let's start with HeyItsJaki:

Very thick lineart, distinguished collarbones, defined fingernails/fingers. Thick shading underneath the neck. Sometimes pouty lips if the expression calls for it.

Now let's look at HardHeadedWoman:

Very Disney/Warner Bros reminiscent art, with most notably, thick necks and distinguished jawline features on guys and hourglass figures/thin wrists/thin fingers on women.

And then we have Dnaeri:

It's harder to pin down her style because she seems to just draw whatever she's feeling like, but most notably are how she draws hands and collarbones, very similarly to Jaki, but with one noticeable difference - softer and rounder lines and shapes.

The irony is that Dnaeri and HeyItsJaki both have the same name - Jaki - so them having similar tells in their styles is just something I wanted to point out. Just a funny thought.

That said, Dnaeri DID post a drawing of Persephone once in her own style/interpretation, and there are definitely things to note here.

The collarbone distinction. The anatomy of the fingers and toes. The lighter lineart. The little 'dip' along the edge of the smile.

Moving on. Let's talk about the last assistant who I feel deserves a specific mention - AmyKim89.

You see, Amy is what I'm going to call the smoking gun. All thanks to this post:

Recognize that panel? That's the flat of Dream Persephone from Episode 204.

And this is what the final panel looked like.

Now, Webtoons cropping aside (don't mind the seam running through Persephone's chest) this confirms multiple things for us.

1. AmyKim89 was not the one to shade this panel.

2. The assistants are working purely off Rachel's sketches.

3. The assistants can be in charge of their own lining, which would explain the inconsistent lineart throughout each episode.

4. There are no backgrounds present meaning someone else is in charge of the backgrounds.

5. Flats can be changed and added to after the assistant has already done their job.

To talk about #5 first, notice the pantyhose that were added that make her legs disappear into her cloak. The baby's face changing. The added flower and necklace. Her eyes changing direction.

Regarding #1, look at how the shading makes the art so much more dull. The previous version of this panel with just the flats genuinely looks so much better than the finished piece.

This was, as I'm sure you can imagine, a pretty big find. While I'm sure Amy would probably not be happy to see me using her innocent post as proof for my hyperfocused ramblings tearing apart Rachel's process, I'm glad she posted it nonetheless because it finally shows us a smidge of what the process might be like during production.

Going back to the shading really quick - Amy was not the one who shaded that panel. But I did notice that out of every little inconsistent thing in LO, the shading is some of the most consistent, and it's consistently awful. Dull muddy tones, lack of consideration of space or lighting, clearly the multiply tool being used even when it really shouldn't be, placement of shading primarily under the eyes even when it makes the face look too dim to look good.

It's always being done with the same watercolor-like brush, with the same multiplied tones, and the same 'edges' along where the shading hits the light.

We also know that Rachel eyedrops her colors.

I don't think it's farfetched to believe that her assistants likely do too to a degree. Or they're working off color palettes from previous episodes they've done before which is resulting in this color dissonance where characters change colors, sometimes in between panels.

Considering the constant muddy shading, and the fact that the assistants may not be doing it, I believe it's Rachel doing the shading in the post-production. If you need more proof, here's a reel of her shading in Hades with the exact same techniques seen in finalized panels.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

Otherwise, if it's not Rachel doing the shading, it could very likely be Dnaeri, as they're one of the longest-running assistants on the team (they came on during S1).

Moving on from that, let's circle back to AmyKim89's drawing of Persephone. She specifies she did the flats and lines for that panel, working off Rachel's sketches. But one noticeable thing is that there's no background.

This lead a bunch of us in ULO to speculate that Rachel is also the one throwing in the background and throwing PNG's of the characters on top.

Proof? How about the fact that there are panels out there with crunchy characters and pristine backgrounds?

I already suspected that the character was zoomed in and the background wasn't, but Amy's post confirms more than that - that the assistants are essentially drawing PNG's which don't get backgrounds until Rachel - or another one of her assistants - adds them.

Here's another panel that I strongly suspect was done by Amy judging by the colors (but the lineart feels like it could be Jaki):

Look at how she's floating in empty space. This wasn't drawn background first and Hestia second, this was drawn with Hestia first and they slapped a background behind her.

It would also explain why we get panels of characters missing their bottom halves or their limbs - because the backgrounds ended up being larger than they were anticipating in the final shot.

There are a whole bunch of things we can speculate on here knowing what we know from past essays and what I've laid out here.

Rachel may only be involved in the beginning and end of these episodes. She does the roughs, hands the sketches out to her assistants, which they flat and line, and she puts in the shading, dialogue/speech bubbles, texturing, and last details after they're all handed in. This would also explain why there are so many typos - lack of time to edit/proofread - and why sometimes there will be characters speaking but their mouths won't be open.

Rachel hands out the sketches to her assistants individually who flat and line it and hand them back. Sometimes they're handed individual panels, other times they're handed entire pages with a few panels on them. This would explain why we can go an entire scene with a character looking one way and then looking completely different by the next.

Think back to all those previous essays. Everything we've learned so far - that Rachel's buffer is miniscule, that she's shading with the multiply tool, that she's clearly only contributing the roughs and few panels that she makes from random drawings she did on a whim and waits until she can find a chance to shoehorn it into the comic.

Rachel started off drawing this comic just on her own. When she took on assistants, there were only two - AmbitiousIcarus and Madd_Joey.

But eventually, she took on more and more. Two became three, three became five, and nowadays, she maintains a consistent art team of 4-6 people per episode, not including herself or the rotating artists who come and go every now and then.

This has been happening steadily since the Episode 50's range of S1.

The summer when Lore Olympus' licensing rights for animation were sold to the Jim Henson Company.

I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that the assistants were the downfall of LO. I think they're all amazing artists, each in their own right - but their art is clearly failing to shine through in the wake of Rachel's poor management and organization. Rather than delegating single people to single roles - lines, flats, shading, texturing, etc. - she's handing things out panel by panel as she sketches them out... and considering how poor her time management is as we've all seen, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that these assistants are all being put in positions where they have to rush out lower quality work. Rachel is haphazardly dividing up the work between more people all the while contributing less and less on her own end in pre-production, post-production, and quality checking as time goes on. The final episodes weren't immediately noticeably bad as soon as she started taking on more assistants, but it's clear Rachel's involvement in the comic and its quality control has been declining rapidly since the Jim Henson purchase.

Again, this isn't to point fingers or assume the worst of anyone, but it really is food for thought. I hope that this was, at the very least, informative for those of us who've wondered over the years what Rachel's process is like. It definitely seems messy from what we can tell on the surface and frankly, if I could be in the same room as Rachel, I'd be using all this as an example of why she needs to manage her team and her time better. But that's not my place to do so. All I can do is speculate on it and spend way too much time writing an essay about it LMAO None of what I've written here is 'proof' of anything, as I'm not in the position to be able to do such a thing - that's reserved solely for Rachel and her assistants - but it's becoming plainly obvious what the workflow looks like and why the comic looks shittier and shittier every week.

All that said, I don't feel like her assistants get nearly enough credit for the work they do for Rachel. She can't even be bothered to remember the name of the guy who edited the books for her (it's Edwin, by the way) and you never see her bring up her assistants when she talks on interviews about how hard she works or how difficult it is to make a webcomic. At this point, Rachel may as well be the Queen of England - all the pomp and reward and credit, with nothing to show for leadership or actual work ethic.

It's not your work we're seeing each week - it's the work of people who are rushing to meet your deadlines, win your awards, and do your homework.

You are the sum of the parts you utilize in your workflow. You are not here purely of your own efforts. It can barely be called 'your work' at this point. Lore Olympus has become the Ship of Theseus - barely recognizable for what it once was after being haphazardly pieced together by the efforts of others.

And that's all I'm gonna say on that.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; modern au, broadway performer wyll, virgin!wyll, takes place in the states for plot, fem!reader (reader is wearing makeup, the phrase good girl is used), reader is implied to be sexually active, sexual tension/flirting, drugs and alcohol mentioned 18+

✮ a/n ; broadway performer wyll inspired by tumblr user @nanamimizz. the rest inspired by deep and innate desire to corrupt wyll. peace and love. also. a little bit projecty on this one. sorry lads.

✮ synopsis ; if wyll had more sense he'd avoid getting involved with you. unfortunately, you throw away whatever of it is remaining.

The air in the basement of the house is stale and sticky.

The room too is shockingly empty. Wyll knew that'd be the case. He'd come down here to take a breath of fresh air, though he does love being where the people are.

It's not his first time hanging out with Shadowhearts friends out here, and it probably won't be the last. Many of their mutual friends are in attendance as well as some new and unfamiliar faces, and while he enjoys their company - it can get too much this late into the night.

The last performance of for this leg of the season was tonight, so Wyll's exhaustion is bone-deep. Can't be solved by drinking it away or enduring to the end of the party. So he's down here to get his bearings, and make his way back up stairs eventually. He'll probably crash with Karlach, if she's not been taken home before the nights over.

He's not expecting you to be down there. He'd find you normally upstairs rolling or cutting something with a group of other people - silent and indifferent except for when you're telling a story.

But you're down here instead, eyes closed and leaned back on the couch. Wyll feels his chest go tight, debates returning upstairs. It's a bad idea to get involved, not matter how much he likes you. You live in a different continent, you're completely different people, there's nothing sensible about getting involved with —

"Wyll? Is that you? Your footsteps gave it away."

He swallows.

"Yeah. Sorry. Came to get some... well I was going to say fresh air but that's not right, is it."

Your laugh is melodious. Fluid and raspy with familiar exhaustion. You look at him upside with your eyes fluttered open, giving him a brief smile. He should really turn back around.

"Hey, you." You pat the seat next to you. His body moves on automatic "Come sit."

So he sits, like he's on auto pilot. You're automatic reaction is too scoot in closer to him and Wyll doesn't even bother stopping you. You're almost curled into him, close enough that he gets a chance to look at you. Smudged mascara and full lips, his heart does a soft tremor.

Twenty four years of his life, with plenty of puppy crushes in between. Nothing even comes close to this.

"You were good today," You praise and Wyll finds himself mesmerized by the sound of your voice "Very impressive. I wish I could've gone to the other shows."

Flirting with you comes naturally for Wyll. It's easy to do when he means it.

"It would've made me perform better. If you came, I mean."

Every time he flirts back with you, your expression changes like you're not expecting it. A flush to a coy smile, the kind of thing that sends his heart into overdrive. All of the many expectations he has for himself melt into nothingness. He damns himself to staring at the curve of your mouth and counting your lashes.

You run warm, but not as warm as him.

"You think about me that much, Wyll?"

A short breathy laugh escapes him, almost helpless to the feeling. "Of course I do. How could I not?"

You scoot in closer. Wyll doesn't move away.

"How embarrassing to hear from someone so handsome." Your voice is a murmur. Wyll can only hear you because you're so damn close to him "Then you'll miss me when you go back, won't you?"

He should stop you. He should pull away. His eyes soften instead.

"Of course I will. More than anything else here."

You pout at him. It's an awfully tempting thing to see. Your hand is soft as you lay it on his chest, sliding your palm up until you've cupped his face. He turns to look at you breathlessly, his throat hitched as you turn his face towards you. He wants to kiss you something awful.

"You shouldn't say something like that unless you're planning on staying with me, y'know? It's mean."

His brow furrows, head turned to kiss the inside of your palm as his hand goes over your own. "Sorry,"

You go into kiss Wyll. He's not prepared for it, but he doesn't want to pull away. Instead he leans into the kiss, his hands curled around your waist as he drags you in close. It's hungry, needy and you laugh into his mouth like you know he can't get enough of you. Hypocritical to call him mean when he's the one falling for you like this.

He kisses you long and and deep, only separates to make you chase him a little. Again and again and again until you're breathless and giggly.

"You drive me mad." He mumbles once you pull away. "There's an order to these things

"You're such a romantic,"

He frowns at you but it's hard to stay upset when you look at him like that. You blink innocently.

"Are you really going to back home with your chastity? I'll keep it safe for you here, promise."

He groans again. This time he swoops you up into his lap, whatever remaining of his control snapped completely. You spread yourself over his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs as you straddle him as you fall into a fit of laughs. He looks up at you near desperate, eyes lidded as your arms wrap around his neck. The position is dangerous.

"I've never had this problem before. Sex is... sacred. So it was easy to wait till it mattered." Wyll explains to you.

"And now?" You tease.

"Now it's not so easy. It's rather difficult, actually."

Your laugh is contagious. It's part of the problem.

"I can't promise to make it sacred," You hum, nuzzling yourself against him "But I do really like you."

"What'll you do when I'm gone?" Wyll asks. You grin.

"Do you wait for you and keep all my desires to myself until you're back?" You ask. Wyll frowns.

"I wouldn't want you sleeping with anyone else in that time. Not if we're, yknow."

"In love?"

"Together. Yes."

You pretend to think on it, your noses brushing as your hips give into their weight and press down on Wyll's lap. The blood rushes down stairs instantly. If you feel him, you have the courtesy not to mention it.

"Mm. Okay. I'll be a very good girl and wait for you. Does that mean you'll fuck me before you go?"

"There's more to it than that. And not fuck. But I'll make love to you. With you."

You make a face like you're embarrassed, face tucked into his neck.

"You're corny." You say blatantly, making him frown before your voice goes soft with sincerity "But you know? I like it about it you,"

Wyll is touched by your sincerity, arms secured around your waist. What a beautiful mess he's fallen into.

"Yeah? That's a relief then."

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Hurricane Agatha

Prompt: Back in season 1 hurricane Agatha hits the Outer Banks. You are a pogue trying to enjoy your best summer with your friends. John B, Pope, and JJ (I know he didn’t in the show) decide to try surfing her waves. You’re worried about JJ because he isn’t answering his phone. You stop by his house even though you know he doesn’t like you coming over.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

              The wind blows violently against your hair as you run towards JJ’s house. JJ normally texts you back within minutes and he always answers your calls. You know the phone towers are probably down but nothing will put your mind at ease till you know that he isn’t out running around in the storm.

“JJ,” you whisper stepping into his house. You know all about his father and the last thing you want is to piss him off.

              Walking into JJ’s room you find the bed empty and his surf board missing. Those damn boys! You think to yourself. They would rather risk their lives to get in a few waves than stay safe. You are going to kill them if the hurricane doesn’t do it first.

“Who’s here!?” JJ’s father shouts from somewhere in the house. “Don’t you dare think you can squat here through the storm!”

              Heart racing in your chest, you try to calm down and think of what to do. JJ has a window in his room but it hasn’t been opened in years. He hates using it as a route of escape because it squeaks up a storm. Though maybe the real storm will be enough to overpower its noise. You make a break for it and attempt to lift the window up enough to climb out.

              A hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you from the window. Flipping over you come face-to-face with your boyfriend’s drunk father. Due to circumstances you two have barely interacted, it’s possible he has no clue who you are. A fact that becomes very much apparent when you feel a cool sting against the side of your face. Slightly dazed, you try and recall JJ’s manic ramblings about getting the upper hand on an attacker.

You collide your free heel to the side of his knee. His grip on you loosens enough to wiggle yourself free. You forget about the window and head straight for the front door. Making your way to your car, you start it up and head the course toward the Chateau. The pain begins to subside in your cheek but his dad sure knows how to throw a punch. Luckily you don’t think he collided with your jaw, so it’s not broken. Hopefully JJ won’t be too mad that you showed up there.

Finally reaching the Chateau you see three bodies making their way back into the house. You sigh in relief seeing that they are all safe. But soon that relief is replaced with rage that they are that stupid. You march yourself up to the house and wait for them to join you.

“What the hell where you guys thinking?” You semi-shout as you hear the door open. “You could have been killed. JJ I have been looking all over for you!”

“Hey hey, babe.” JJ tries to calm you down. “We are fine, you don’t-“

              He stops mid-sentence as he takes a few steps closer. The skin around your cheek has already started to bruise over and become tender. You wince as his fingers lightly graze over your skin. Looking into his eyes you can see that his are glossed over in building tears.

“Y/N,” JJ’s voice is very low and quiet. “Did you go to my house?”

              You didn’t respond and averted your gaze, but confirming all the same. Backing away from you, JJ throws an empty beer bottle across the room and lets out a painful cry. JJ leans himself against the wall and takes deep breaths to calm down.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” JJ’s voice is calmer than you’d expect.

“No,” you answer immediately. “I am really sorry JJ.”

              Warm salty tears fall down your face. A sob escapes your lips as you feel a sting from your tears graze over your swollen cheek. Two sturdy arms wrap around your torso. Even when you can’t see, you know they belong to JJ. You repeat that you are sorry over and over through your sobs.

“Don’t you dare be sorry.” JJ whispers into your ear. “Please baby. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I am so sorry.”

              JJ picks you up and carries you into the spare bedroom. You are grateful to be away from the awkward gaze of John B and Pope. You are close with both of them but you’ve always been more comfortable with JJ even before you started dating.

              He lays you down on the bed and slides next to you. Placing a kiss to your forehead, JJ tells you he will be back in a moment. As quickly as he leaves, JJ is already back with a bag of frozen peas. JJ slightly presses them to your bruised cheek. Biting your lip, you try to suppress a sob but there is no luck. It escapes pass your lips like those before but soon the cool bag begins its soothing magic.

              JJ resumes his previous position next to you on the bed and pulls your body close to his. You feel his fingers brush through the top of your hair in soothing strokes. His legs tangle with yours as he places soft kisses on the tip of your nose. You know that JJ is blaming himself for this and you hate it. This is all your fault. You should have known he would avoid home at all cost. Though you know that if you bring it up again JJ won’t listen and continue to blame himself.

“I remembered what you told me.” Your voice is so quiet as sleep begins to take over your senses. “I remembered about what you said about how to hit the knees if the ankle isn’t accessible.”

“I’m sure you did great baby,” JJ looks down at you with a lazy grin.

              You know that it will take a little while for you and JJ to come to terms about what happened tonight. From all of JJ’s injuries and stories about his father you knew the man was nothing good. Though hearing about it and experiencing it are two very different things. You managed to get away without too many hits but you know that JJ is not so lucky. It takes weeks before you stop immediately crying at the sight of any discoloration of his skin. JJ tries to tell you it barely hurts but you know that is total bullshit. Only good thing that came out of this is that JJ wants to teach you more about how to defend yourself. He always wants to be there to protect you but he knows now that won’t always be the case, and he is so proud of how well you can handle yourself.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Sorry if you've already talked about this but I just found your blog and I have a question. I basically stopped watching the show and Gang of Secrets but I'd like to know your thoughts on how the show handles secret identities?

Personally I really like secret identites as a trope and the way you can use it to make different character dynamics, and I feel like the show underutilizes it at best and at worst seem actively annoyed by the constraint they gave themselves.

Like this is somehow a show where when Alya and Nino found out each other's identities, it directly contributed to them each getting taken out in Heroes' Day, and when Marianne got Akumatized she instantly spilled the Guardian's existence, and both time the two leads have had identity reveals it lead to a world-destroying catastrophe, and yet half the fandom and seemingly the writers act like it's at most and inconvenience?

Let me know if I'm off or seasons 4 and later do anything to contradict me but it was one of my issues at least and I felt like there were so many fun things they could have done with the set up. Sorry again if this is too long/rambly or whatever lol

Long asks are fine! Heavens knows I tend to make long posts. It's why I use the queue instead of just posting things as I get them.

Anyway, secret identities and identity shenanigans are the things that brought me to this show. They're nothing new in superhero setups, but most shows in this genre have the identity stuff as more of a fun bonus element than the main focus. The idea of a show that was more centered around these concepts via a romance plot sounded like a blast!

It has not been a blast.

The main problem with the identity stuff is that the show's guiding rule seems to be maintaining the secret identities at all cost because a reveal means no more love square and, at this point, it's pretty clear that thy're going to drag the love square out until the bitter end. This means that they actively avoid anything which puts them into a position to push a reveal. The problem with that is that the love square isn't some cute running gag that has no real impact on the plot. The love square is the show's main focus, so you cannot treat it the way you normally treat an identity shenanigans setup.

To give an example for contrast, the show Phineas and Ferb has a running gag involving the titular characters' pet platypus Perry. Unbeknownst to the boys, Perry is a secret agent who saves the world on a regular basis while his "owners" remain oblivious to the fact that Perry is anything more than a normal pet platypus. It's a good running gag because there's no reason why the boys need to find out Perry's secret. There is no overarching plot that's in limbo until this moment happens. It's just a silly thing that could be completely removed from the show without any major impacts.

Consider the difference between that and the love square. You remove the love square and you have a wildly different show because the love square isn't a gag, it's a plot and plots need to progress to feel meaningful. Marinette and Adrien should be growing closer on at least one side of the masks and they should be doing so in a way that makes it feel like the reveal is drawing ever closer.

For example, the fact that they're now dating should be a source of tension. The last time these two dated someone, they both ended up single due to the lies that come with a secret identity. But while Lukanette and Adrigami both lasted a few weeks at most, Adrienette got a whole season without a single identity-based conflict because acknowledging the identity conflict means progress on the reveal and we can't have that because the reveal is apparently being saved for the end of the show.

We don't even get much in the way of developing their relationship because letting them grow closer in a meaningful way means knowing more about each other which, once again, means that a reveal becomes inevitable. This is probably why we got the Derision retcon where Marinette suddenly couldn't talk to Adrien while dating him. No talking means no growing meaningfully closer means no reveal.

It's incredibly frustrating because reveal plots simply aren't structured to be long running plots. This is why most identity shenanigans media either focuses on the reveal and ends up relatively short (ex: the movie You Got Mail) or does the running gag thing where the identity stuff is a source of comedy, but the actual plot is something else that would technically work perfectly fine even if you removed the identity hi-jinx (ex: the anime Spy X Family).

When it comes to the love square, my preference is to take the first option and make it resolve within the first few seasons, but if we must draw it out until the show's end, then I would make all of the following changes to turn the square from a serious plot to more of a running gag:

Do NOT let Chat Noir confess. Instead, make it that he's always setting up romantic dates or confessions for Ladybug that end up stopped because of an akuma or fans or whatever. This would make Marinette's ongoing failures feel more balanced as they're both doing the same thing. It would also turn the confession into more of a comedy element instead of a dramatic one.

Focus more on plot elements unrelated to the love square, distracting the audience from the romance with shinny subplots like a Lila take down.

Don't have the secret identities be a source of conflict. Have Chat Noir totally uninterested in a reveal.

Have Hawkmoth be someone other than Gabriel. The less serious the show's basic setup, the less serious audiences will expect it to be

Of course, all of those are pretty massive changes to the show's basic setup, which is why I say they should have just let the reveal happen. Then they could have actually let all sorts of fun moments happen as we build to the reveal because it's no longer a thing that they writers have to avoid. As someone who has written multiple stories with a reveal, the fun really is planning it all out so that the tension and/or the comedy builds and builds to a dramatic crescendo where everything feels oh so satisfying.

When you live in fear of the reveal and awkwardly shoehorn things in, you get boring things like Gabriel's identity being leaked from a random play, Marinette's crush being revealed by freaking Andre, and Nino's identity reveal leading to nothing interesting because it can't because then we'd be drawing closer to a love square reveal and, well, you know the drill. It's also why you get messed up crappy episodes like Chat Blanc and Ephemeral. Episodes that are just there to prove that the reveal is a bad thing you shouldn't want!

There actually is solid logic as to why a reveal might not be the best move, but we don't even get to see that discussed. Chat Noir just pushes for a reveal because love while Ladybug stays focused on risk mitigation and it's so boring because a good show would let them have an honest discussion of the risks verses the rewards to help drive the conflict leading towards a reveal as a lot of the rewards are only realized if these two already know each other, which is a great tension build! But we can't build tension like that because then you'd be letting them have actual team dynamics where they talk about things and talking about things means bonding which means a build up to reveal and I think you know the drill by now...

This was a bit of a ramble, but hopefully it addressed your question! This is a broad topic that has a lot of ground to cover, so feel free to clarify if you wanted my thoughts on something else. I love identity reveals, so I am happy to babble about them. There's nothing more satisfying then setting up a good one, even if it takes tens of thousands of words to make it hit just right!

[myzzjolanda]

Welpz, I finished something.

I'm sorry if it's weird, I'm sorry for mistakes, English isn't my first language, bladiebladiebla. I'm just tired, wrote this in just over an hour because I wanted it written. It's cute at least. I guess.

____

KITTY

Show: Wednesday

Wordcount: 1776

Warnings: slight mentions of horror I guess?

Pairing: platonic Larissa Weems x reader

Enjoy!

It had been an increddible long day. An incredible long week even. Flu-season started, so on top of her normal workload, Larissa had to make sure classes of 3 different teachers were covered since they got ill as well, the heating system failed last Tuesday ánd Wednesday and on top of that, she had to pick up Wednesday Adams from the police station today. “Breaking into the curch? On broad daylight? What wére you thinking, miss Adams?”, she asked the girl angrily when they got to the car. She closed the door a bit too hard. Who can blame me, she thought; it’s Friday. I just wanted to get to bed after classes ended. “I was just testing a theory.”, the girl answered. Despite being angry, Larissa couldn’t resist being curious. “Theory? What kind of nonsense-theory did you want to tesr now?”, she answered impatiently when she started the car. “You know that Maria statue? I've been told that when the sun shines on her face in a right way at certain times, some discoulorations make it look like she’s crying blood. I wanted to see that for myself.”. Larissa shuddered. “That’s the… weirdest story I’ve heard in a while. Especially since you decided to break into the church for it! I wont accept such nonsense, you’ll meet at the church tomorrow morning at 8:30, as we have promised the curch and the police, so that you can help clean up the mess!”.

When Larissa entered her rooms next to her office an hour later, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes first. She sighed and put her face into her hands. “that was embarrasing…”, she whispered. She walked to her chair and took of her coat and shoes. She sat down for a moment. She still had so much to do, but she felt tired. So tired… She didn’t have much time to sleep this week. Not even to relax. Although all problems were fixed quite well and quickly, she still felt quite stressed. Larissa felt her lower lip tremble a bit. Perhaps just a little nap? She walked to her bedroom. A little nappy wouldn’t hurt anyonr. She had been quite big this week, she deserved it. She didn’t even bother changing or removing her make-up. When she hid under her blankets, Larissa her arms automatically reached out for Kitty. But now… Larissa’s eyes were wide open immediatly. “Kitty?”. Her lower lip trembled again and her eyes started to water. “Where’s my Kitty?”

___

When the last students of your class left, you burried your face in your hands. It was flu-season, and you surely felt like you almost had the flu. Your head hurt, your throat hurt, your face hurt, everything hurt. Slowly, you packed your stuff. You wanted to go to sleep quickly, but you first had to go to Larissa first. You promised her to go to town together tomorrow, but feeling as you did, it wasn’t a good idea to go out tomorrow. You walked to Larissa’s classroom first, since that was closer to your classroom than her office. It was still open, but it was empty. Except… for a black kitten plushy on Larissa’s desk? She walked to the plushy and picked it up. There wasn’t a name or anything on it. You decided to bring it with you to Larissa her office, since she could tell you who the plushy belonged to. When you knew, you could return it.

Luckily, the walk to Larissa’s office was short, since you started to feel tired from walking already. You knocked on her door. And waited. And knocked again. You frowned. It was Friday afternoon. Larissa never had any appointments at this time… had she? You heard footsteps behind you. “She just had to pick up Wednesday from the policestation”, you heard Vlad say. “oh! Of course.”, you said. You looked at him and gave him a small smile. “thanks.”

When you were in your rooms, you raised the plushy to eyelevel. “oh, what to do with you?”, you said to the plushy. You frowned a bit. Eventually, you decided to make a picture with it and send iy to Larissa, asking whose plushy it is and telling her you kept it safe untill the owner reclaimed it. When you sent the picture, you picked up the plushy again. “Well, wanna make some new friends for the time being? Come one, I’ve got some cute friends for you!”, you said enthousasticly. Although you felt quite sick, the thought of your own plushies made you quite happy. “Look, I got a guard bear over there, from my visit to London, he protects everyone… and look! My me to you bears, they are cute and fluffy, and that big brown bear over there I got from my uncle when I was two… I think you’ll fit in his lap quite well!”, you told the plushy quite happily. You jawned. You were really tired. “wait for me when you want to sleep. I’mma get changed. I need a nappy!”, you told your plushies and the new kitten. When you crawled under the blankets a few minutes later, you fell asleep almost immediatly.

___

Larissa paced around in her office worried. What happened to Kitty? She had brought her to her classroom that day, simply because she didn’t trust the new cleaner. What if she decided to steal her Kitty, or just throw her away? Larissa was nervous about bringing her plushy, since the chance of anyone finding out she had a plushy or the fact that she could lose her was too big to her, but she wasn’t letting her in her rooms with that mean cleaner. But after class, she got a call that Wednesday was arrested again and she had to run to the policestation to pick her up, and she couldn’t remember what she had done with her plushy. She remember rushing to pack her stuff, but Kitty wasn’t in her bag, so Kitty must’ve been still in the classroom. But when she went to her classroom, Kitty wasn’t there either.

Larissa started to panick. Were was her Kitty? Was she alone? Was she scared? Who knew. She wanted to call you about it. Ask for your help finding her. But she was scared of your reaction, since you didn’t know about her Kitty yet and het normaly perfect make-up was ruined from the crying and tantrums she had because she couldn’t find Kitty anywhere. She looked at her phone on her desk, doubting if she should call you or not. Precisely at that moment, her screen lit up. Slightly suprised, she walked to her phone. It was a message from you, with a picture of –

“KITTY!”, Larissa almost yelled out hapily. “Hey Riss, I found this cute plushy in your classroom, do you know whom it belongs to? Can you tell them I bring it to my room and that they can pick it up there?”, she read aloud softly. She had do read the message multiple times before the realisation came her plushy was safe. “She’s save, she’s save, she’s save!”, Larissa almost sang when jumping around in her room. “But know I have to tell y/n that the plushy is mine.”. Now, Larissa frowned a bit. “oh well, she wouldn’t mind I guess. And if she does, I don’t care. I want my Kitty back.”. And with that, she quickly put on her shoes and walked to your room.

___

You quickly woke up from a knock on your door. You looked at the time on your phone. “Oh shit, 9 already!”, you mumbled. You stumbled the door and saw Larissa standing there. She looked like a complete mess. “Larissa? Come in, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying!” “Yes… Yes, I’m okay now, thank you.”. She stepped in. “Are yóú okay though? You sound horrible.” “Nah, I think I’ll have to cancel our plans for tomorrow. I’m afraid I cought a flu too. But tell me Riss, why have yoj been crying?”. Larissa opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. She played with a ring on her finger nervously. “The kitten plushy you found? That one is mine. I lost her. I got her ages ago and I grew fond of her, and then I thought I lost her for good because l couldn’t find her anywhere, and then I got upset because my Kitty is just the sweetest and I was so tired and I just wanted my Kitty and…” Larissa stopped talking. She looked at her feet nervously. “Ooh she’s yours! Don’t worry, I can understand you were scared!” “Do you? I’m certain you think I’m chidlish.”. You took her hand and almost pulled her to your bedroom. “No I don’t! Look, I got to show you something!”.

___

When they walked into y/n’s bedroom, Larissa could feel her eyes get big. Her bed was full of cute plushies, and there, on the lap of a big brown bear was her Kitty. “Look Rissa, your Kitty wasn’t alone here! No reason to be scared!”. Y/n pulled Larissa closer to the bed. “Look, Bear was cuddling her. And Guardbeary protects all the plushies. And look! So much friends!”. Y/n sounded happy as a child, despite not feeling well. Larissa watched as she climbed under her blankets again. “Here, there’s your Kitty!”, y/n said, after which she grabbed a plushie to hold for herself. Larissa smiled softly and planted a kiss on Kitty’s head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wont ever lose you again.”. Larissa noticed y/n looking at her. “What?”, she asked her. “Do you sometimes feel little as well?”. Larissa thought about that for a moment. “Yes. Mostly when I’m alone with Kitty in my room. It works well with loneliness and stress…”. Y/n smiled. “it does, doesn’t it! Why do you think I collect plushies?”. Larissa giggled. Y/n was cute like this actually. In the middle of all her plushies. “Should I tuck you in, my sweet y/n? You’re still ill.” “Yes please! But who is going to tuck you in?”. Larissa thought about that for a moment. “Tonight I’m going to manage myself I guess. I got Kitty back as my support!”. Larissa smiled when she saw y/n immediatly grab for a plushy and close her eyes when she was fully tucked in. “Goodnight, Y/n.” “goodnight, Rissa. Don’t forget your Kitty.”. Larissa stood up and walked through the door. When she opened the door, she heard her name again. “Rissa? Can we have a playdate tomorrow? With our plushies?”. Larissa hugged her Kitty tighter hapily. “I’d love to.”.

[disarm-you]

Escape

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You had a one night stand with Frank a few weeks ago. Now he’s bloody and on your doorstep. What’s a gal to do?

Content Warnings: Adult Content- MDNI, POV Female character, Biting, Vaginal Sex

It had been a long day at the hospital and you were tired. You sigh heavily as you open your bedroom window, letting in the cool autumn air. The chill however, was welcoming as fall was your favorite season. 

Smelling the crisp air, you sit down at your desk. You take a drag from your vape as you look at your stack of books, deciding which world you want to enter. Yeah, there’s much that needs done at your apartment and reports that you need to finish for work but you have no energy for chores. Five patients coded at the start of your shift and well, it all went downhill from there. Right now, you were just looking for an escape.

You take another hit from your pen, welcoming the relaxing buzz from the CBD when you hear a knock at the door. Confused, you check your phone. No notifications. Your heart skips a beat, anticipating who would show up on your doorstep at 1am. Throwing on your robe, you walk to the door. Checking the peephole, you see him and your heart stops. Mind quickly flashing back to the last time you saw him. It had been a few weeks since you met Frank at a bar and he gave you a different kind of escape. 

You quickly open the door, meaning to say hi but pausing when you notice the blood on his shirt. “Can I come in?” Frank asks and you swiftly step aside. “What happened!?” You exclaimed and before he could answer you asked, “Are you alright?” You pull at his shirt, trying to assess the damage. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle. Mind if I use your shower?” Confused, you say yes and point to the bathroom that is down your hall. 

Hearing the shower turn on, you decide to make some coffee and try to process your feelings. You didn’t expect to see Frank - isn’t that what a one night stand is, just one night? He was the first man you ever met out and brought home. And now he was showing up unannounced and bloody? Why? Why didn’t this scare you? It should scare you but your mind briefly wanders to your last meeting and your heart sped up. You recalled how his rough hands felt against your smooth skin, how he took what he needed from you without greed. The man was intimidating but you felt safe in his presence. You hear the water turn off as the heat in your abdomen starts to rise. 

Frank came out of your bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He was built like a brick house, muscles gliding under the skin as he walked towards you. It was a sight for sore eyes. “This mine?” He asks, as he picks up a cup, noticing you staring longer than normal. “Yeah, all yours. Would you like-” Your words cut off when you noticed the wound on his shoulder. It was deep and looked bad. You knew it needed attention soon, before infection set in. “Sit down” you say as you place your cup of coffee on the counter and walk away. Frank does as he’s told and you come out of your bedroom with your first aid kit. “Your shoulder doesn’t look so hot, let me help you.” you say as you place your kit on the table beside him. “Nah, I’m good, darling.” Frank says as he shifts away from you. You step closer, “Judging by the depth of that stab wound, you aren’t going to be good for much longer. You really should have gone to the hospital, not here!”

What, are you a nurse?” Frank huffed as he took a sip of coffee. “No, a doctor.” You retorted while you ensured his wound was cleaned and started stitching him up. “Hmm.” He grunts, “it seems that I did come to the right place.” He chuckles, as you work. 

While doing so, you noticed his chest and torso is littered with scars and bruises, some recent but most were aged. It was quiet while you did so but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He drank his coffee and winced a few times while you worked. When you are done, you pack up your kit, wash your hands and sit down at the table beside him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Frank says when you’ve settled. Your heart jumps again and the heat in your abdomen grows stronger. 

“Frank, I’m not complaining but why are you here?” You ask as he leans in and kisses you. It was soft and gentle but you opened your mouth, desperately wanting more. Frank notices and obliges, slowly letting his tongue explore your mouth. You let out a soft moan and he pulls you into his lap. You caress his shoulders and neck while deepening the kiss but are careful to avoid his wound. He playfully bites down on your lower lip and you grind into his lap involuntarily, feeling him hardening beneath you. There isn’t much to hide with just a towel and your shorts between you.  Frank starts to kiss and nibble alongside your neck and you’re almost embarrassed by how wet you already are. You shake off your robe and Frank pulls your top over your head, revealing your breasts to him. Frank kisses down your chest and you gasp as he takes a nipple in his mouth, while massaging your other breast in his hand. You grind harder into him and his hips start to meet yours. This only ignites your fire and you whimper his name. Frank’s mouth moves to your other breast while his hands trail down your abdomen, fingers pausing at the top of your shorts. He looks at you, eyes asking if this is ok. You nod and his fingers dip below the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brush along your slit and he smiles as he feels your dampness. He begins to massage your clit and your belly is lit with desire. Breathing heavy, you lean in to kiss him, tongue greedily exploring his mouth. Frank’s hand slides down, fingers circling your entrance. “Please” you say as he captures the next moan to leave your mouth. He begins to slip two, thick fingers inside you, moving dangerously slow, stopping once he reaches the spongy spot inside you. He curls his fingers, begins to move faster and stars light up behind your eyes. Frank kisses your neck, enjoying the look of pure bliss on your face. Moaning his name, Frank picks up the pace until he can feel you on the brink of now return. “C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He says. And let go is what you do, body tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

“I need you to fuck me.” Your words startle even yourself as they fall out of your mouth. Frank helps you up, standing with you while you take off your shorts. Once removed, his large hands grab your hips and turn you around. He roughly bends you over the kitchen table, stepping behind you while positioning your hips to a comfortable spot. Frank runs the tip of his member through your folds, teasing you even more before he guides himself inside you, breathing heavily as he does so. You let out a deep moan as he fucks you with a brutal pace. Frank fills you like none other before. The feeling leaves your head empty of thoughts; all you can do is hold on to the table and get lost in the absolute bliss that this man gives you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Frank lets out while he pulls your hair and you can hear in his voice how close he already is too. His arm wraps around your hips and he starts working your clit again. The pleasure is insurmountable and you feel yourself on the brink of climax. “Can you bite me?” You ask in between heavy breaths and Frank obliges, leaning over you to bite and suck on your exposed neck. It was what you needed to send you over the edge. Legs shaking, walls spasming around Frank and you get your escape, again. You can feel Frank twitching right before he pulls out and shoots thick ropes of cum on your ass. He begins to pepper kisses down your spine, waiting while you come back to the present. Once he feels you are coming back, he reaches down to grab his towel, and helps to clean you up. 

“I don’t know what, if anything, is happening here. But can you stay the night?” You ask Frank, nervous that he won’t want to stay. He nods his head yes and you lead him to the bedroom, where you two had your first encounter. You both get into bed, settling with his arm around you. Sleep finds you both quickly,a dreamless night not waking until your alarm goes off the next day. 

Upon waking, the bed is empty and a feeling- anxiety? Regret? Sadness? You aren’t sure which, maybe a mixture of all tightens across your check. You roll out of bed, use the bathroom and make your way into the kitchen. The table reminds you of the ache that Frank left in your body. You move to pick up last night’s coffee cups when you see a hand scribbled note, just 11 digits on a scrap of paper, written in sloppy writing. Your heart skips a beat at the possibility of seeing Frank again.