#i was thinking if i should try the header again or no but yeah i will

[adrienneleclerc]

Do you think you can do a Daniel Ricardo imagine

Where YN is a country singer and I don't know maybe all of the drivers gets invited to a country CMT in Texas and do you think you can make yn inspired by Lainey Wilson if you haven't listened to any of her music I highly recommend you to listen to some yeah that's it and I love the Carlos and MMA imagine it was beautiful and adorable and I loved it so yeah I hope you can do something with this one XOXO🇲🇽🫶🥰

Hi! Thank you so much for liking the Carlos x MMA imagine, you are actually my number 1 requester 🫶🏽 When you say "y/n inspired by Lainey Wilson", I studied her personality. I have watched her performances, listened to some of her music, and watched an interview. But Becky G will always be in my moodboards/headers because she is my idol. You could obviously picture Lainey Wilson if you want. Sorry it took SOOOO long

Country Love

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Country Singer! Reader

Summary: With the Austin Grand Prix being held on the same weekend as the CMT Music Awards, the drivers were invited to the award show, especially because of Daniel's affinity for country music.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, inaccuracies about the CMT Music Awards and country music in general.

A/N: I saw the video of Lainey Wilson singing "The Best of Both Worlds" on YouTube and i LOVED it!! Like girly impersonated Hannah Montana when she was younger so the fact she sung a Hannah song in front of Miley Cyrus herself is just iconic. Also, Becky G being in the moodboard literally means nothing, its still YOU.

Weeks before the Austin Grand Prix, the F1 drivers received calls about attending the CMT Music Awards. The drivers were all excited to have gotten invited to the award show, especially Daniel Ricciardo in particular since he loves country music so much. What’s even better is that VCARB team principal, Laurent Mekies, invited country singer, Y/N L/N, who just so happens to be Daniel’s favorite country singer, to their garage, but thats a surprise.

Daniel walked into the paddock talking to Yuki and Max about how insane and unreasonable the FIA are being when Daniel spotted Y/N walking side by side with her manager. He has completely checked out of the conversation until Yuki punched his arm.

"Ow, Yuki, what the fuck was that for?" Daniel asked, rubbing his arm.

"You weren't paying attention to us! What's up with that?" Yuki asked.

"Sorry, mate, bui just saw Y/N, as in THE Y/N." Daniel said, turning his head to try and spot her again but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Was she wearing a cowgirl hat or something?" Max asked, chuckling. Daniel looked back at him.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. She was wearing a baseball cap though. Do you think she's a guest of Ferrari or Mercedes? You know what, maybe she's McLaren's guest, Lando likes country music too." Daniel said. "Damn, they're so lucky they will get to meet her."

"Didn't know you were such a fanboy, Danny." Yuki said, causing both him and Max to laugh.

"She is a talented artist, you know. Can't believe she's here and i won't be able to talk to her until the award show. And thats IF i see her." Daniel said.

"Stop pouting, mate. We have two hours until the race, maybe you'll see her. I gotta head back to RedBull." Max said, patting both men on the back before walking away.

"We should head to our hospitality too." Yuki said and Daniel nodded, following him into VCARB where Y/N had her back turned, talking to Laurent and Daniel's eyes practically bulge out of his head. "Wow, its like watching a cartoon." Yuki comments, looking between Daniel and Y/N.

Laurent and Y/N stop talking and she turns around to face Daniel. Daniel straightens up to make a good impression, or at least try to. Laurent leads Y/N to his two drivers. Daniel was the first one to speak up.

"I'm Daniel Ricciardo, it is so nice to meet you." Daniel said, reaching for Y/N's hand to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you too, Daniel. I'm.." Y/N started.

"You're Y/N L/N, you won the Grammy for best country album, well deserved, by the way, Bell Bottom Country and Whirlwind has been on replay since i landed in Texas." Daniel said and that shocked Y/N.

"Nice job scaring the poor girl." Yuki commented.

"Wow, thank you so much, Daniel. I never would have thought that an F1 driver would be such a big fan of my music." Y/N said.

"I'm Yuki Tsunoda, by the way, if it matters." Yuki spoke up, looking in between Y/N and Daniel.

"Its nice to meet you Yuki. Will you be going to the CMT Awards too?" Y/N askd.

"I won't, actually. But Daniel is very excited for the award show." Yuki said, patting Daniel on the back.

"Can't wait to see you there. I'll let you two get back to whatever it is drivers do." Y/N said, leaving them. Daniel watched her leave and Yuki had to wave his hand in front of his face.

"Laurent, i think he's broken!" Yuki yelled and that snapped Daniel out of his trance.

"I am not broken. Lets go over the plans." Daniel said.

The Grand Prix finished and Daniel wasted no timw to go to his hotel room and change into something more presentable for the CMT Awards. Leaving his room, he spotted Lando already in the lobby with Max.

"Am i early or late?" Daniel asked.

"Early, but so are we. Heard that your celebrity crush was in the paddock." Lando said.

"Yes! She is so beautiful in person." Daniel commented.

"He was staring at her while we were talking. If it was a cartoon, he would be drooling with big hearts for eyes." Max said.

"Haha, lets go, I want to see if i can talk to Y/N some more on the red carpet." Daniel said.

When they arrived, the paparazzi was asking for photos and it was all good until Daniel found out he was taking photos next to Y/N so like the gentleman he was, he waited until Y/N noticed him.

"Oh my god, Daniel, you're here!" Y/N exclaimed before hugging Daniel, he hugged her back. "You guys must be Max and Lando, it was a great race, really."

"Thank you, I'm a fan of your music. My favorite song from your new album is definitely 'Call A Cowboy', you're very talented." Lando said.

"Thank you so much. We should all take a photo togther!" Y/N said

"Great idea! You should stand next to Daniel and then Lando and I will be on each side." Max suggest. Y/N nods and Daniel has his arm around Y/N's waist. While taking the poictre, Daniel leaned down to Y/N's ear to whisper.

"Would you be interested in going out with me tomorrow night?" Daniel asked. Y/N looked up at him, smiled, and then asked him to lean down so she could whisper.

"I'd love to. You feel like waiting for me so we could get Wendy's after?" Y/N asked and Daniel immediately nodded. After the photo ops, they walked into the theater. "DM me on instagram and I'll give you my phone number later." Y/N said closer to Daniel and pulled away to adress the other F1 drivers that came later. "Hope you guys enjoy my performance." Y/N left.

"Danny, are you okay?" Oscar asked

"God bless Texas." Daniel said before they walked in to take their seats.

The End

Hope y'all liked it!

[giannaln4]

Make You Feel Better

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando wasn't feeling the best after a long day of media duties, but he could always count on you to make him feel better. (915 words)

warnings: mdni, + 18, smut, unprotected sex, needy!lando

a/n: heyy everyone! sorry for disappearing after posting literally just one fic, but with uni and then summer i didn't really find the time to write but i'm working on a few fics right now! anyway please send some requests!

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

Some days were better than others, and Lando always tried to be positive around you, but today just wasn’t his day. He had a long day; media day wasn’t his favourite, too many people to talk to, cameras all around at all times, and on top of that, he was feeling a little under the weather. 

It’s not like he always felt that way, it was a part of his duties and he liked to meet fans. He loved seeing the people that supported him unconditionally so happy just by seeing him. He knew he had to do it anyway, but the triple header was getting to him, and it was only the second weekend.

He dragged himself back into his hotel, dragging his feet out of the elevator and through the hallways. He wasn’t expecting to see you awake, still waiting for him, but he was almost relieved when he spotted you sitting in his bed.

“Hi” You happily greeted him when he entered the room, putting your phone down to pay attention to him.

“Hi” He replied, not as happy as you. You could easily see that he was having a bad day. 

He dropped his bag next to the door and made his way to the bed, collapsing in your arms as soon as he got there. “Bad day” was all he said and you didn’t push it any further. You let him settle in your arms, rubbing his back as you both sink into the mattress.

“It’s okay, baby. You should get some rest, I know you haven’t been sleeping as much as you are supposed to” 

He shook his head into your chest “I had something else in mind”

“Go on” You knew where this was going, and honestly you couldn’t complain.

“I was thinking, uh- you could help me feel better” His voice was a little hesitant, but his hands were confident when they found your hips, squeezing them as if he was trying to give you a hint of what he wanted.

“Yeah? How?”

“I need you, please”

You smile down at him, suddenly needy for him “Is that what you want?”

He nodded desperately, and he immediately lifted his head and reached for your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. It started rough and passionate, you could barely catch your breath. You climbed into his lap, placing your knees to his sides.

“How do you want me?” You managed to ask in between kisses.

“Ride me”

As soon as he said that you got up, taking a step back and slowly undressing in front of him. “Are you gonna keep your clothes?”

“Uh- no” He quickly got rid of them, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

You were both naked, and you returned to your previous position on his lap. After a moment of making out, you softly pushed him into the mattress and leaned down to meet his lips again.

“Want me to help you feel better? You had a bad day so you need me to ride you?” Lando’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly, bucking his hips up.

You shook your head, pulling away “Words, Lando”

“Yes. Baby, please” He begged, his hands on your hips again.

You smirk, satisfied with his answer. He was still holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable on top of him, he then placed his hands on your tits, massaging them softly as you started to stroke his needy cock. He let out a loud moan at your touch.

Your pussy was soaking wet, brushing up against his thigh. The contact made you moan softly and you couldn't help but put more pressure, relieving your need a little bit. You kept rubbing your core against him as he let out soft whimpers, your hand still stroking him, but the relief you were giving him wasn’t nearly enough. “Please, baby” Lando moaned as you placed your hands on his stomach.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me”

That was all you needed to hear, so you situated yourself and slowly sank down on his cock. He moaned loudly, and your hands moved up to his chest, as you began to roll your hips. His hands moved to your hips again as his own bucked up into you, making you whimper as loud as he was.

“You always make me feel so good” He cried out.

Your mind was too focused on your own pleasure you didn’t even answer him. You continued moving, a string of moans of his name leaving your lips. He was deep, deep inside of you and he just hit that place where you both feel incredibly good. 

“Fuck” Lando said with furrowed brows, his cheeks red and forehead full of sweat. His curls were stuck to his forehead, making him incredibly sexy. “I’m gonna cum,” he said when he started to get that feeling in his lower abdomen.

You didn’t say anything but you picked up your pace, bringing Lando even closer to his orgasm. It didn’t take long for him to shoot his release inside you, making you come closer to your own release.

He moaned your name repeatedly, and you collapsed on his chest when your mindblowing orgasm finally hit you. You were barely moving your hips now, dusting off your high.

You finally stopped moving and you stayed like that for a while, catching your breath as your cheek was pressed on his chest.

“Feel better, baby?”

“Yeah”

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 13

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 1.8k | Warnings: none | Masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author's note: everyone say thank you to @sarawritestories for bullying me to get me to write and to @milswrites for the NEW HEADER LOOK IT'S SO PRETTY

Ten minutes to the dot from getting to your door Azriel was walking into your apartment with a bowl of popcorn and several bags of candy. He brought chocolates, gummy worms, cookies, and several other sweets in the crook of his elbow, several being held by random fingers. You really weren’t sure how he was carrying it all. 

In your absence he also changed into some black sweatpants and a black tee, his arms flexed with all the snacks in his hold. He looked great at mini golf, but now he looked attractive in such a different way. 

“What are you doing?” He looked a bit ridiculous, as if he just raided a candy store. He looked even more ridiculous trying to toe his shoes off before making his way over to you.

“I know you don’t have food here.”

“Yes we do - Cassian was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday!” You whip your head to the kitchen, as if you could see the inside of your pantry from where you sat. “Besides I ordered a pizza.”

He gives you a look, “Cassian’s version of grocery shopping is stopping at our apartment and taking what he wants.”

Your eyes widen, “no he does not! He said he goes to the store for food.”

He scoffs, setting down the candy and snacks on the table in front of you, lining them all up so you could see the label on each bag, “the store of Rhys and Az, maybe. A 24 hour convenience store Cassian has a lifetime membership to.”

You think back to all the times Cassian told you he was going grocery shopping, but you’re not sure if you ever did see him come back with bags of groceries. All the food and supplies just showed up. “Well, I’m sorry he does that. It does explain his luxurious tastes though…”

“It’s fine,” he says sitting next to you, your legs touching. “Rhys’s dad pays for the groceries, so..” 

His sentence lingers as he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s what’s worked for us for a long time. Rhys couldn't care less. Actually I think he prefers getting to spend money on us.”

“So things with Rhys’s dad are weird?”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose. His dad sucks. Gives Rhys a- basically an unlimited credit card. Rhys has played with the limits on it before. We all know he’s rich, we just don’t know how rich. He’s spent a ridiculous amount of money on that card with no response. Once he bought all of ours and Cassian’s furniture in one trip - bought ridiculously priced shit too. Didn’t even blink over it.”

He scoops up a handful of popcorn, popping some into his mouth. “Well, all the furniture except their ridiculously sized tvs.”

You giggle, grabbing the bag of sour candies he brought and opening them, popping some in your mouth. “Mm, you’re too good to fall victim to their childish antics?”

“I’m more evolved than them.”

“So it was a different Azriel that Cassian was talking about going racing with him on some backroads a few weeks ago?”

A beat passes and he refuses to look at you, his eyes straight forward. “I think Cassian has face blindness.”

“Oh yeah, mhm.” You pick up the remote, scrolling to look through potential movies to watch. “Maybe we should get a decal for your bike so he won’t get confused again. I’m thinking of something that makes you seem distinguished.”

“Oh?”

“Something that makes you seem intimidating.”

“something scary?” His eyes dance with amusement, crinkling in contained joy.

“Something terrifying. So they know you’re a menace.”

You scroll through the movie options, Azriel’s arm making its way across the back of the couch behind you. He spreads his legs a bit, and you nestle into his shoulder as you put on Jurassic Park, picking a movie you’d be okay with missing some parts to it.

The two of you had watched at least three quarters of Jurassic Park, several parts of the movie missed because the two of you couldn’t keep from making out on your couch. 

You watched the entire trilogy, staying up late with him. By the time the second movie came on, the two of you talked through most of it, until you’d reach the scenes with the pterodactyls in the third movie. Then you had forced your hands over his mouth, not letting him talk over your favorite scenes. Once you had pulled them away, he immediately dove on top of you, pushing you into the couch and nuzzling his face into your neck.

The two of you stayed up until somewhere around 3 AM, the third movie long forgotten as you asked him to stay the night. Nothing happened, except you did wake up the next morning with his arm slung around your waist, making it very tempting to completely ignore your alarm clock.

Unfortunately, Azriel had work to do, kissing your temple before he snuck back into his apartment to get dressed.

He had been gone for all of twenty seconds when your phone buzzed and he asked if you’d like to get coffee the next day before class. Your classes lined up at the same time each day, so you two would meet up at a local coffee shop in the morning. You’d park your car in the grocery store lot afterwards, Azriel holding out his spare helmet for you before helping put it on your head before he’d zip you two through campus, one of his hands always on your thigh. 

The two of you would separate once he’d walk you to your classes, and then you’d meet back up at the library. It was a bit concerning to you how quickly the two of you fell into a routine, most of your free time of the week either spent with him or texting him.

“I got you something.”

You rummage through your bag when Azriel walks up to the table, his jacket being thrown onto one of the extra chairs. He sets down his helmet as you continue your search. You slide the envelope across the table, his scarred fingers touching yours as he grabs it from you. He opens the envelope, pulling out the note.

‘To be more menacing’ is written on pink stationary, a sticker falling from the paper. He picks it up, a smile on his face as he turns the sticker in his fingers, the cartoon goose with a knife in his mouth looking back at you.

His smile is captivating in the harsh lighting of the library, the LEDs making his skin several shades too light.

But it made his smile all the more blinding. 

“Thank you,” he slips the sticker into his jacket pocket, sliding into the seat across from you.

He pulled out his laptop, his bag neat and tidy, a far cry from Cassian’s paper cluttered bag. You go back to reviewing your notes, as Azriel begins typing on his computer. The silence is comfortable between you two, and as you feel it start to settle, Azriel’s foot grazes your own, sticking itself between your crossed ankles. 

You peer at him across the table, but his tortoiseshell glasses don’t move towards you, his computer screen reflecting through them to show he was working on some form of coding you had no desire to understand. You smile back down to your books, trying to get all your work finished before Friday, the six of you spending the weekend at Rhys’s dad’s lake house. 

Cassian had been moaning and groaning for several weeks about wanting to go to the lake, but Rhys’s dad was having renovations done on the house and on the private dock until roughly two weeks ago. Since its completion, Cassian has been relentless, worming the word ‘lake’ into every conversation he’s had, not being very subtle about what he wanted.

Every morning he texted your group chat about his ‘cornfLAKEs’ or about how he just loves ‘snowfLAKEs’. He had just run out of words two days ago and now resorted to making up words that had ‘lake’ in them. Rhys immediately texted everyone to ‘please for the love of my sanity, be available this weekend or else I’m petitioning we murder Cassian’. 

None of you wanted to be stuck doing any kind of work this weekend - Cassian and Azriel already had the weekend off, Mor and Feyre were free, and your plans revolved around the work and the man in front of you. All of you were desperate to finish any work that was due on Monday before the six of you left.

“So this weekend.”

He holds up a finger, typing furiously before he stops, looking up at you. He closes his laptop slightly, pushing it away from himself. 

“This weekend.”

You put your chin in your hands, looking at his tan face. You loved seeing him wear his glasses - they made him look so endearing and soft. “Are we um going to tell anyone before we go? Besides Mor, obviously.”

You had texted Mor at some point during the second or third movie, asking her if she had mentioned your date to anyone. She had said no and that she’d be willing to keep it that way if you remembered to thank her profusely for ‘setting you up on the best date of your life’. 

You had agreed, but now this left you with a bit of a dilemma - when do you tell everyone? Does he want to tell everyone?

“You don’t understand how annoying they can get when it comes to my love life.”

You giggled, certain you could figure it out based on how nosey and meddling Cassian was. 

He clears his throat, “besides I’d like to figure things out with you before they know. I don’t want them to scare you off.”

You laughed, “I walked in on Cassian trimming his toenails the other night. I think anything worse than that violates the Geneva convention.”

His smile is bright as he watches you giggle at your own joke. “How about this,” his hands move across the table, laying them palm up so you can sit yours into them. Your fingers lightly trace the lines on his palms as his voice picks up again. “I’ll take you out for lunch tomorrow, and it will be the official end of things… until we get back.”

You raise your brows, but he’s not finished. “Obviously, not really the end of things. But just.. We’ll come back from lunch as the people we were last week. Before mini golf.”

Your voice is a bit unsteady as you ask, “do you want to stay those people? The before mini golf versions of ourselves?”

“No.” His reply is fast, voice full of conviction.

“You’re not just saying this because Rhys’s lake house has a hot housekeeper, are you?”

He blows out his lips, laughing at your waggling eyebrows, “Sonya’s been about eighty years old for the past fifteen years.” His fingers quickly snatch yours, holding them tightly. “So she’s perfect for me.”

You throw your head back, about to laugh, but he pulls your fingers forward, bringing you in for a soft kiss you can’t help but giggle through.

Series taglist: @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @impossibelle @hayrunnwr @just-a-social-casualty-1 @thisisew @brieflyclassymortal @glitterypirateduck @marshmummy @bookishbroadwaybish @azsteris @doriansgf @footyandformula @mybestfriendmademe @od-anon @judig92 @luvmoo @marina468 @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @acotarobsessed @maryssong23 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading <3

[sadembryhours]

can please you write about an autistic readerx Peter Parker or Gilbert Blythe? (if you could do romantic that’s would be nice but you do whatever you want✨) I think they would be PERFECT for this!!! Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

burning candles! ♥︎ tasm!peter parker

synopsis : autistic!reader waits for peter to find someone better. [that time never comes]

cw ; comfort , not all autistic people are the same, this is just how it is for me! , lowercase intended , [name] used in place of y/n

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

there’s a puzzle in front of you, half-done as the steaming mug beside you warms the air. there are headphones on your ears, playing the video you’d been thinking about all day.

placing the last blue-colored piece, you take a small break to stretch your limbs. after looking at the full size picture, you decide yellow will be the chosen color next. you blink, eyes tired and back aching but your mind refusing to let you rest until the puzzle is done.

a small, hesitant tap hits your left shoulder. you jump slightly, head turning slowly to see beat up converse falling off of mismatched socks. you sigh, “hi, peter.”

“hey, lovey.” he smiles — you can’t see it with your back to him, but you can hear the grin he holds. a soft brush to your back before he sits on the chair behind you. “wanna join me up here for a bit?”

you do, placing your headphones on the table and grabbing your drink. you allow peter to grab you, maneuvering your body until you’re sideways on his lap. he sighs happily, “missed you today.”

you smile, eyes still on your favorite mug. “missed you, too. your cologne smells nice.”

“it’s new!” peter grins again. his nose hits your temple, lips popping onto your cheekbone, trailing down to your cheek slowly. “glad you like it. thought you would.”

the room grows quiet as peter scrolls through his phone, his left hand rubbing your back. you take a peek at his feed, dimming a bit at how fun it looked. pool parties ; clubbing ; long drives that lead to a road trip — you felt like you made him miss out on it all.

“will you get bored of me?”

peter pauses, his thumb hovering over his phone. you stiffen, nails grinding against the ceramic in your hands. “why would you ask that?”

you shrug and try to divert him — try to change the subject. it’s too late, though, as peter sets his phone down and focuses on you. “[name]. why would i get bored of you?”

“im not very fun,” you admit. you glance at him fleetingly, seeing how sincere and warm his eyes were. “i stay in and do boring things like puzzles. you might want to do more and i won’t let you.”

“you don’t force me here against my will.” peter’s tone is aghast — offended almost as he speaks. his hold tightens momentarily as he scoots you closer. “i like watching you do things you enjoy. even if you think they’re boring.”

your gaze falls again as you adjust his phone to sit the way you want it to. your fingers curl at the habit, pulling your hand away from it slowly. “even when i do things like that?”

“yeah,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “it makes you feel better. that’s all i care about — your comfort.”

your eyebrows furrow, nose scrunching. “that’s weird. you should care for yourself more.”

peter laughs again, his nose poking your temple as he kisses the side of your ear. “that’s what you’re for, hm?”

——♥︎——

you didn’t specify which peter this was for, so i hope this is okay ♥︎ thank you for your request!!

sadembryhours © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know.

[chaotic-mystery]

140 Characters Or Less | J.M.

Pairing || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary || This is part two to this and I’m so excited to share it with you all. Joel asks you to help him sign up for Twitter after that night he called you to get you off like the pervy neighbor he is. It’s just Twitter, right?

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY! Minors dni! Reader watches porn, (wxw & wxm) age gap (not specified but Joel is well older than reader.) dirty talk, joel being a perv, reader is a perv, masturbation with an audience of one, pet names (slut, baby doll, good girl, shit like that.) mentions of choking, spanking, joel is made aware of your burner account on twitter you use to watch porn, talking you through it. || Word count: 3.3k

Showing Joel how to use twitter wasn’t on your bingo card for the year but he insisted he should keep up with his favorite football team and players. When you jokingly offered to help set up his account you didn’t think he’d take you up on that offer but here you were sitting at his kitchen table with your laptop, trying to sign him up. “Joel, do you need me to write down your username and password in case you forget?” Your eyes looked up at Joel who had one hand on the back of your seat while he leaned over you, his other hand resting on the table. He was staring hard at the screen as he thought about it before answering, “Yeah, go ahead and write it down sweet pea. Just in case I need it.” Joel looked down at you and caught you staring at him, your face warming with embarrassment. 

He chuckled softly, shaking his head while standing up straight to walk to the kitchen, rummaging through the junk drawer to find paper and a pen for you.

“You have to set your profile picture and header on your own, I can’t do that for you.” You hollered from the other room, looking up your own twitter to follow yourself before following a few of his favorite sports teams.

Joel moseyed his way back to you and his knuckles brushed against your shoulder as he placed the pen and paper in front of you. He knew what he was doing, the subtle touches here and there made your head go back to that night he called you and made you get off to his words. 

“So um- your log-in info is right here and I went ahead and followed some of your favorite teams but I don’t know if I got them all so you can do that later.” Joel looked at the following list and noticed something all the way down at the bottom. “Who’s that pretty lil thing right ‘ere?” His finger pointed to your small picture on the screen and a smirk played on his face. He knew it was you considering he was the one who took the photo that was your profile photo. It was from the barbeque Joel had at his house a few months ago. He came up and had his phone in hand, asking you to give him a smile as he pointed the camera your way. Your cheeks were stuffed with a hotdog and the corner of your mouth painted yellow from the mustard, but you looked happy and that was beautiful. 

“I’ll have you know I’m very funny on twitter, thank you! I may tweet a little too much but it’s fine, you’ll like it when I send you funny tweets.” You teased, getting up from the table as you shut your laptop to put away. Joel wanted so badly to grab your hips and pin you down on the table and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, but neither one of you had talked about that night since it happened. Partially because you weren’t sure how to bring it up but also what if he was embarrassed and wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen? “Thanks again for doin’ that for me darlin’, couldn’t have done it withoutcha.” His arms lifted for a hug and with one movement you were engulfed by Joel, pressed tightly against his chest. You could smell the faint scent of his cologne that was wearing off by now but it was just enough to make you aware he put some on today, probably because he was seeing you.

“Alright well, if you need anything let me know. I already downloaded the app on your phone so you just have to log in. Call me if you uh-if you need me--er I mean need my help...not in that way I mean-" The words were falling out faster than you could process and shut up for two seconds to think about how to word it.

"Don't worry, I gotcha." Your eyes locked onto his as you pulled away from his hug.

Joel giving you a quick wink before he walked you to the front door, his hand on the small of your back the entire way. On your short walk down the pavement back to your house, you wondered if he was still on the front porch watching, and a tiny part of you hoped he was. By the time you got home you had already gotten three tweets sent to you from him, all stupid dad jokes.

With the sun setting and drowning your room with yellow tones, you crawled out of bed to find some food. All afternoon you and Joel sent tweets back and forth to each other until you fell asleep for a small cat nap which quickly became a two hour sleep. As you rummaged through the pantry for something to eat, your phone buzzed with another notification from Twitter. Joel. Finally you landed on cereal to eat when you grabbed the box and poured yourself a bowl, sitting down at the table to look at what he sent. Of course it was another meme but it made you laugh, something to do with evil kermit and sports. Though you didn't quite get it, you responded with a laughing face.

"Sweetheart you in here?" Your dad hollered from down the hall and you jumped, spilling some of your milk out of the bowl and scurrying to lock your phone so he couldn't see who was on the screen. "Yeah dad I'm in here eating!" You groaned at the mess on the table and went to get a paper towel from the kitchen when your dad strolled in, tossing his work stuff in the chair next to your bowl. "How are you honey?" He asked and pecked the top of your head in passing as you made your way back to the mess. "I'm okay, I uh.." you hesitated about telling him what you did for Joel today, wondering if he'd question why a man well into his adulthood needs a twitter at this point in his life. "I tried mowing the grass today but I couldn't get it to start." Of course it sounded ridiculous but your dad wouldn't question you doing something like that for him.

"Oh that damn piece of shit. I've been needing to get a new one but maybe I'll give Joel a call later and see if I can borrow his, he's got a real nice mower."

"Yeah, I mean you could do that. His lawn looks super nice, keeps up well."

Somewhere in there felt like a entendre and you almost blew it by laughing. "I'll give him a call later tonight. I got called into work so I won't be home 'til tomorrow. You gonna be okay alone?" He asks, getting a glass of water from the faucet. You would invite Joel over if it weren't for the fact your dad could come home at any time, completely unannounced. He was notorious for doing that.

"I'll be okay, just gonna lay low tonight I think." You had to make sure to not sound too eager for him to leave. Maybe you'd call Joel again and this time you'd get to be as loud as you want, show him the set of lungs you have on you.

"Alright, I gotta get going sweetheart. Love ya. Lock the front door and sweet dreams." Your dad walked over to grab his things and hugged you quickly before walking to the front door and out he went. Picking up your phone and going back to twitter, you read a funny joke you thought Joel would appreciate and wanted to send it to him. That's weird...I thought I followed him back? you thought to yourself. You couldn't find his name anywhere as you were trying to share it. Not thinking about it too much, you searched his name and found his twitter once more, clicking follow. You sent the tweet and ran your hands over your face, thinking maybe was the time to take a much needed shower now that you had some peace and quiet. Leaving your phone on the counter, you walked to the bathroom and started your water.

Joel's POV

My phone went off again, she must've sent me somethin' on twitter. It's a message from an account I don't know. Who the hell is this? I clicked the profile to see who it was and it's someone named "NightAngel". They sent me a message of a dad joke and said it sounded like the one from earlier but the only person I've been telling dad jokes to is...oh fuck. Is this her second account or somethin'? I went to the likes of her profile and sweet jesus. Did she know this was public? All of this porn? I keep scrolling to see what else she's liked and it's all filthy. Girls kissing girls, scissoring, girls getting railed from behind, choking, blowjobs, everything. there's even audios of men whimpering? Didn't know that was a thing now. I'd be lyin' if I said my cock didn't get hard just thinkin' about her in her bed getting off to this. I unzip my pants as I sit on the couch and run my thumb over the swollen head...She's such a nasty girl.

While you were showering, you were completely unaware you in fact sent Joel something from your burner account you use for porn. You dried off and got dressed, noticing you had a few missed calls from Joel and some messages. Confused and a little alarmed, you called him as quickly as possible.

The line rang for what felt like forever before he picked up, "Darlin' are you busy? Think you could uh- come help me with somethin' at the house?" He spoke slowly as if he wasn't telling you the whole truth.

You furrowed your brows and looked at yourself in the mirror in front of you for a second as you thought about what he could want you down there for. "Uh yeah I can come down and help jus' give me a second." You swore you could hear the smile on his face when he said goodbye, but there no time to waste. Quickly locking the front door behind you, you closed your jacket tighter around you, the almost gone sun making it a little cooler out. Joel was outside on the porch waiting with a hand on his hip and his knee popped out. That man has such a way of looking sexy no matter what he's doing. Slightly glistening of sweat on his biceps, his face coming into view as you walked up the porch steps. You were looking at him in confusion, waiting for him to start talking. "Is everything okay? You sounded weird on the phone." You asked and followed closely behind him into the living room, his laptop open to Twitter.

"I jus' don't know what this is and I wanna make sure it's not a bot or anything." He trailed off and sat next to you, opening his messages. You were all focused until you seen your burner account, right there on the screen. Blown up and on full brightness. Suddenly your mouth was like the desert and you forgot how to speak. Joel looked over at you from the corner of his eye to see your reaction and went straight to your likes. "They sent me a message earlier about some joke and I guess I'm jus' a little confused because," he said and scooted closer, putting his arm around you on the back of the couch, "the only person who I've been talkin' to on twitter is you." The last part of his sentence rattled throughout your entire body. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This wasn't happening, there was no way this was happening right now. How the fuck did you even get on your burner account- your dad. He scared you so badly you must've switched profiles when he scared you and you locked your phone in a hurry.

"That's um- that's not a bot..Joel." Your voice went soft and you covered your face in embarrassment, completely warm all over with nerves. How could you be so dumb? "Don't be embarrassed bunny, it happens to us all." But it doesn't, does it? "Ya know, when I put the pieces together that it was your account, my cock got so fucking hard. You're a dirty bird, 100%. I got myself off jus' thinkin' about how you touch yourself watching these. Were these the videos you were watching that night I called you, baby doll?" He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, his warm hand rubbing the back of your arm gingerly. The fire in your tummy was back, the same one from the other night, you knew what was happening. Sheepishly you uncovered your face, "Yeah, these were the ones. I didn't mean to send it from this I- Dad came in and scared me and I spilled my cereal-" Joel cut you off with a chuckle and your head snapped to his direction. "What's funny? I'm so embarrassed Joel oh my fucking god."

He leaned up slowly and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. Joel's lips meet your temple and he kisses your skin in between his words, "Baby it's okay. You can either go and we can pretend like this never happened and I'll never bring it up again, or.." As soon as he said "or" your eyes shot open and your heart began racing. What did he have up his sleeve this time? "Or you can show me how you touch yourself to these. Completely up to you bunny." The last kiss after his sentence was a little rougher and a little longer than the other ones. He was making your panties flood with excitement, hanging on to every single word that came from his mouth.

Without saying anything you looked at Joel in his beautiful coffee colored eyes and grazed your bottom lip with your tongue slowly. "You really wanna see that?" He looked back at you almost like you offended him by questioning him. "Abso-fucking-lutely I do." He whispered and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. It would be completely inappropriate to sit here and touch yourself for him but fuck did you want to. You pulled away from Joel's lips long enough to tell him to pick a video. Joel looked at you with low eyes and groaned lowly while he landed on the first video in your likes. A video of two girls in a bathtub, kissing at first but it quickly moved to more. Shorts hitting the floor and your panties tugged to the side, you leaned back still in Joel's arms with your fingers finding your clit that was coated in your excitement. Your soft whimpers filled his ears over the moans from the video and soon enough his eyes were watching your hand closely, pleasuring yourself watching these two girls scissoring in the bath. His eyes never once went to the screen, only on you. He wanted to see how good this made you feel, how you rubbed delicate circles over your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful bunny oh my god. What about this one, hm? This one make your pussy jus' tingle?" He sat up and scrolled to the one of the guy with his hands tied behind his back in a kitchen chair while the girl rides him and chokes him for dear life. "You think about doin' this to me when you watch this, pretty girl?" He stayed sitting up to watch closer and your eyes roll closed at imagining choking him and making him beg to cum. "Yes, sir I think about making you beg me to let you cum inside me. I'd pull your hair and make you hold off on cumming until you couldn't stand it, cum dripping out of me." Your body jolted and felt like you were on fire but in the best way possible. Joel was sat there practically drooling and grunting all over himself and holding back from interfering to do it himself.

The video changes again, this time to one of a POV from a girl getting eaten out in an empty elevator. Joel groaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his mouth when it started playing. You noticed and gave him a smirk. "What's the matter Mr. Miller, not into public sex?" You teased and circled your clit with the two fingers you dipped inside your entrance for slick. Your mouth agape from pleasure when suddenly Joel's tongue was dancing with yours inside your mouth. His hand squeezed your cheeks while holding your face still. "I'm startin' to think you're more of a perv than me." He moaned, clicking to the next video on the laptop, a guy sucking on this girls nipples while he spanks her and fucks her. "That's my favorite one Joel, fuck don't- don't touch it." You grunted and your leg subconsciously folded up, foot dangling in the air just a tad.

He leans back against the arm of the chair just watching in awe. The girl that drives him crazy was here on his couch telling him about her favorite porn videos. Curiosity got the best of him and he couldn't fight the burning question any longer. "Why's this your favorite, baby? Is it the way he's fuckin' her?" He guessed but he was wrong. You smirked and looked him dead in the eye as you rubbed your clit faster, "It's because he looks like you. I found this months ago and that's what I've been getting off to when I think of you- oh fuck Joel." You wailed out and felt the pressure in your tummy. Quickly his head snapped towards the screen and his mouth fell open once he noticed the guy in the video. "You aren't going anywhere, you're mine." His strong hand found your throat as he leaned back and kissed your cheek repeatedly.

"Show me how you cum when you think about me fucking you baby. Let me hear you scream, scream my fuckin' name like the good girl I know you are. Play with your sweet pretty pussy, don't stop slut."

His words mixed with the video was enough to send you well over the edge. Your legs clamped shut as well as your eyes, not a squeak coming from your mouth. It felt like the world was crashing around you, that's how hard this orgasm was hitting you. Joel grunted as he held you against him, letting your body jolt and ride out your high.

"That's a good girl. shh, it's okay, I've got you."

He held you in his arms until you felt strong enough to unfold your body and catch your breath, looking at Joel with tired eyes and a giggle followed.

"What..just happened, Joel?" Your laughs get a little louder and Joel chuckles along with you while he shut the laptop and the video ceased to make noise.

"You, my sweet girl, just showed me how you watch porn and get off." A kiss planted on your forehead as he reaches behind you to tug the blanket off the back of the couch and cover your body with it.

A soft silence filled the air as you laid back into his arms and closed your eyes only for a moment to recover and get some energy back. "You don't want me to follow you back on that account, do you? Feel like that's invadin' your space, darlin'."

"No no, definitely don't want you to follow it back." You giggle a little to make it sound a little less serious. "Just forget it ever came to your attention." Joel hummed in agreeance and said he'd delete the message, but did he?

Or did he save it for later for something bigger?

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #38] Delaying the Inevitable

warnings: a test is taken! bronys are mentioned! lots going on!

a/n: ahhhh just one tonight!! sorry!! i forgot to schedule them earlier!! lucky 4 u I have time tomorrow to schedule a decent chunk! gawd looking at this picture makes me miss him so much :( a lot of the bd header pictures are taken from lives that happened around the time they were written, and its so cute seeing the time pass like that :(

wc: 4.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Naver maps says it's a thirty-five-minute walk to your place from Jeongguk's gym.

When a text comes through to his phone from yours with the simple words 'I'm ready," he makes it in twenty.

Skin sticky with sweat, clothes a little damp, glasses on, he doesn't care for appearances as he shows up at your door - and you're reminded of exactly how you got yourself into this mess, again .

It's not your fault he walks around looking like he does.

If anything, he should be more considerate of you, and your feelings, and that fact that seeing him all sweaty will only ever serve to remind you of what it's like to have sex with him.

You fear you'll go insane if you have to keep looking at him like this.

And so you tell him as such.

"Go home, get a shower, come back."

"What?" he laughs, lip ring doing the thing ever so casually as he shakes his head. "I've only just-"

Raising your finger to his lips, you hush him. Keep your face straight.

"Jeongguk, I am but merely a woman. I cannot be held liable for my body, nor the way it's telling me I have to shag you immediately. It will be a disaster if you stay."

Rolling his eyes, he guides you back into your apartment and closes the door behind himself.

"Merely a woman?" He laughs. "You sound like a robot, not a woman."

"I'm being formal!" You tell him. "It's the only way to stop myself from getting to my knees."

"What has gotten into you?!" he asks with total bewilderment. Plonks himself down on your sofa. "I thought the whole reason you called me over was to-" And then he realises what you're doing. Puts a stop to it immediately. "No. Absolutely not. You cannot use sex to get out of taking that damn test."

You roll your eyes with an arrogant smirk, of which you know will drive him insane. "Was worth a try."

"Fuck you," he grins. "I'm not that easy."

The way his lips part when you stand in front of him and tie your hair up? Looks down, as if he thinks that's where you'll go?

"Yeah," you tease, ruffling his hair, before sinking into the sofa next to him. "Sure. Not easy."

"I'm not!" He protests, but you just tease him even more.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Whatever you say, baby."

"Alright, attitude," Jeongguk smirks, enjoying the flirt far more than he knows he should. Knows that he's just using it to distract himself from the box on your coffee table. Knows that the sooner it's done and out of the way, the sooner he can forget about it - or not. "Anyways, don't you have a stick to piss onto?"

"Watersports?" You hum, feigning confusion. "I didn't think that was on the sticky notes?"

Jeongguk just looks at you with a raised brow, as if to question whether or not you're actually entertaining the idea of it - and then he takes offence.

"My dick is not a stick. Take that back."

"Stick boy," you reply, decidedly never taking it back.

And then he has a smug little grin on his face as he reaches down for the box and tosses it to your lap. "I have you on camera saying I've got the hugest cock in the world."

"That's not what I said."

"It is," he assures you, blatantly embellishing what you actually said. "You said it's the hugest cock in the world, and the nicest."

He's lying - but he looks so cute, grin all big and full of stars, that you want him to carry on.

"I think you have hearing problems."

"Nope," he shakes his head. "You said, word for word, ' Ohhh, Jeongguk, your cock is the nicest and hugest cock in the whole entire world, way bigger than Jimin's, and you're also actually really cool' ."

"Now, I know that is a lie," you assure him, as if the entire thing hasn't been fabricated. "You're so lame."

"Oh yeah?" He grins.

"The lamest."

"Well if I'm that lame, go take that fuckin' test B," he nods at the box that's sitting in your lap. "Make sure you don't have my lame-ass kids in your tummy."

"That's not where kids live in the body," you tell him, as if he doesn't know.

He could probably tell you a thing or two about the female anatomy, now. Has read every article in the WebMD Pregnancy Centre. Has shit like 'folic acid' and 'preeclampsia' floating around in his vernacular.

"Fingers crossed they don't currently live in your body at all," he reminds you of your absolute disdain for mothering children. You've never suggested any indication of wanting to keep a kid should you be pregnant right now. Have always said how they're a future goal for you - not a present-day one - and so he wants you to know that he's on board with whatever choice you make, should the test be positive.

Narrowing your eyes, you're oddly comforted by this sentence. After days upon days spent fretting over Jeongguk's wants, it is nice to know his default seems to be the same as yours. You aren't ready for a kid. In your heart of hearts, you know this.

You've no doubt that Jeongguk would step up to the plate, if a kid were to be on the cards. Would be a great dad. Fantastic. If anything, your certainty of his ability is the only thing that would maybe convince you to keep it.

But he has dreams, too. He has goals. Has a meeting with the bank next week for a business loan that will set the wheels in motion.

It's in both of your best interests to be on the same page. Feels heartless, when you think of it like that - but such is life. We can't have everything all at once.

Getting to your feet, you give him a reluctant smile. "Put the TV on. Don't want you to listen to me pissing. Weirdo."

Jeongguk agrees to do so. Turns the TV on as you walk away, and almost mutes it just to wind you up - but he needs you to do this test. Doesn't want to run the risk of taking things back to square one. The sooner you have an answer, the sooner you can go about righting the wrongs of your arrangement.

Flicking across the latch of your bathroom door, a weight presses down on your chest.

Intrusive and unforgiving, it's exactly what you've been shying away from.

The future isn't written in the stars. It's not some cosmic destiny like you try to kid yourself that is it. No prophecy can foretell the outcome of your bad decisions. Choices are made, and consequences are dealt. Life balances on chance, and you're well aware you've taken a few too many.

Resting your hands on the basin of your sink, you let your head hang between your shoulders. Inhale. Exhale.

You know if Jeongguk were in the room with you, he'd get you looking in the mirror. Have you confronting this fear head-on.

And you know you'd thank him for it.

Lifting your gaze to yourself, you study your face. Glitter trails up your cheekbone and dusts the inner corners of your eyes. Not too much. Well, not too much for you. Probably a little too much for most people.

You'd recently spent a night without glitter, and had felt like a shell of yourself.

The person looking at you in the mirror right now may not have her life figured out. Shit might be a mess. Her heart is in a state of disarray and her 'career' can barely even be called a career.

But as you look down at the box in front of you, you know that beyond the door is a person who somehow has the ability to make it feel like it all makes sense. As if you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

So while, no, you don't think you were fated to end up here, specifically, you know that you are destined to be okay. You have to be. Regardless of the outcome.

In your living room, Jeongguk's staring at the television, but he isn't paying it any attention.

The news is on. Some report about declining birth rates. It makes him feel uneasy, so he flicks it over to the next channel. A kids show. Flicks it over again. Finally lands on a variety show he doesn't care for. Decides it's better than the other two, so leaves it on.

Feet to the floor, he sits up straight on your sofa, doesn't realise just how violently he's jittering his leg until his phone drops to the floor.

As he leans down to pick it up, he notices a small mirror ball tile tangled in your shagpile rug. Smiles to himself as he picks it out, and tosses it on your coffee table. Wonders, a little carelessly, if your kids would take after you and your magpie-like love for shiny things.

Before he gets a chance to reprimand himself for thinking about such hypotheticals, your bathroom clicks open.

Like a deer in headlights, your eyes are wide. Fearful. Have just done something you can't take back.

"So...?" Jeongguk nervously asks. For all he's read in the last week or so, he doesn't actually know how tests like these work.

You shrug your shoulders. Don't move from the doorway, almost as if you're guarding the small pink that rests on top of your toilet. "Don't know yet. It's developing."

He nods. Swallows. "Right. Yeah. Of course," he says, because it seems obvious now. "How-"

"Three minutes," you state a little mechanically, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. "Three minutes. One line is safe. Two lines... Two lines means I'm pregnant."

Jeongguk is silent as he looks at you. Is normally so good with knowing the right things to say.

You typically only ever face one of your fears at a time. He's strong when you're weak, and vice versa. So used to being pillars of support, there's a strange air of caution now that you're both terrified.

Nothing can be said, nor done, to change the outcome, now.

So Jeongguk stands. Holds out his hand. "C'mere."

Reluctant at first, his earnest eyes encourage you over. Your heavy feet drag your body to him, and he wastes no time wrapping you up in the protection of himself.

"It's fine," he tells you. "It will be fine."

Nodding, you push away from him. Try and play it cool. Pretend as if you don't want to violently throw up all over your apartment.

"Shotgun not being the one to check it," you say - but he absolutely does not want to check it first.

"It's your piss," he reminds you, thinking it might persuade you.

"Gguk, let's not pretend like that's a boundary with us," you laugh. He's seen you throw up after one too many star fuckers. Has been a star fucker himself. You're pretty sure there isn't anything that could repulse him about you. Not now.

"Touche," he agrees. Holds up his fist. "Battle?"

Without hesitation, you launch into a war of rock, paper, scissors. He fights valiantly, but is no match for you - mainly because he will always, without fail, play paper as his default when he's rushed.

"That's not fair," he whines when you point it out - but a deal is a deal. The responsibility is now his, whether he likes it or not. Eventually, he nods. Psyches himself up. Paces the room a little, and bounces on the balls of his feet as if he's gearing up for a round in the boxing ring.

"You can't fight a pregnancy test," you deadpan, trying to ease the tension.

"I mean you did a pretty good job of fighting one," he reminds you, despite his smile. "Could have taken it ages ago but nooo-"

"Well, I've taken it now!" you pout a little at the way he's calling you out - mainly because you know he's right. "It'll be ready."

He continues to pace.

"Gguk," you press - as if you didn't take a million years building up the courage to take the test.

"Right," he nods, turning to face the door. "Yeah. Phew. Okay."

Light on his feet, he's still bouncing. It's a distraction method more than anything. Helps his brain regulate his chaotic thoughts a little better. Gets them in order.

Bringing your legs up to your chest, you wait patiently on the sofa. Kind of wish you'd been the one the win. At this point you just want to know. Just wanna-

"Fuck."

The sound of Jeongguk's voice echoes from the bathroom. No greater clarification is given. A second passes. The sound of a deep-rooted sigh exhaling is the only true indication that Jeongguk is aware of your fates.

And suddenly, you don't want to know at all. You yo-yo between blissful ignorance and desperation for knowledge.

As he reenters the living space, he doesn't look over at you. Heads straight for your freezer. Yanks it open, and pulls the vodka from the door. Knocks the freezer shut, and reaches over to the draining board for a shot glass. Pours himself a shot. Hisses as it goes down. Turns to face you. Pours another. Walks a little closer, and holds it out for you. It's now that you realise he's still holding the test. Nose a little blushed, eyes watery, he says nothing.

"Gguk, I don't think vodka is goo-"

"It doesn't matter," he cuts you off, presenting you with the small pink stick. Tentatively reaching for it, you're scared to look - and so Jeongguk clarifies. "One line. Not pregnant."

"Oh, fuck," you exhale. Take the shot and down it immediately. Pass Jeongguk the shot glass. Let him pour himself another. Welcome it as a second one is also poured for you, but put the empty glass on the coffee table afterwards this time. Jeongguk takes the seat opposite you as you study the test once more, making sure for certain. Look up at him with absolute elation. "I could kiss you right now."

It's just an expression, and he knows this, but fuck it. He wishes you would. Knows better than to encourage it.

"B, that's exactly what got us into this mess," he reminds you with a laugh. Pulls you in for a hug. Squeezes you so tightly you think you might just burst. "Fucking hell. I thought we were fucked."

Nodding against him, you let out a tearful laugh. The gravity of the situation hits you like a tonne of bricks. The pair of you are so happy. Deliriously so. If the test has been positive? Yeah... You don't imagine you would have felt this way.

"That was, like, the most stressful thing I've ever experienced," you whine a little, pulling away from him, to sit up straight. The smile on your lips is radiant, the look in your eyes cosmic - and he's mirroring you. "Like, no offence to your future offspring, but I couldn't think of anything worse."

He just nods. "Ditto." Laughs. Falls back into the cushions on the sofa, but drags you down with him. Hugs you even tighter than before. "Let's just never fuck again. I can't deal with the stress."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

And even though it's said in jest, there is an acute understanding that perhaps you should take a step back. Not from your friendship, nor from anything else - just the misplaced intimacy you both enjoy far too much.

Resting your chin on his chest, you wait for him to glance down. The angle is awkward and Jeongguk is well aware it's not the finest, but he doesn't care how you perceive him. Knows that the (rare) appearance of a double chin isn't exactly gonna make you run for the hills. In fact, you kind of like the angle. His eyes are so focused on you that it almost makes it hard for you to focus on him. You get a little lost in his constellations, hopping from star to star.

"I'm sorry I prolonged it," you whisper, but he just shakes his head.

"S'fine. It's done now."

He means it. Would take the stress and the turmoil of the unknown ten times over, if it means he gets this at the end of it. The way you curl up to him without hesitation, not a single care given to the world around you, evokes a lotus blossom in his chest. Blooming in even the darkest cavern, it'll survive all storms. No test of weather nor threat of disruption will ever sever it from its roots. Pretty, pink, and sparkling, it's yours. He'll keep it safe.

"You gonna head back to the gym?" You ask him, not wanting him to feel like he has to say - but once more, he just shakes his head. Says something about a new docu-series on Netflix. Mumbles shit about needing a rest day.

Truthfully, you'd quite like him to stay.

So you offer him your shower, and when he asks if you'll join, you say, "Gguk, have we learned nothing?"

His cheeks flame as a pretty laugh escapes his lips. For a second, you worry. Fear that your rejection will rehash old worries of his - but instead, he just gives you a fond smile. "Yeah. You're right."

While Jeongguk showers, you sort yourself out. Toss the test in your bedroom, and close the door. It can stay there in solitude. You don't care for it. Don't need it. For a moment, albeit a very small one, you consider what could have happened if there had been two lines in the result window - then decide it's better off not tempting fate.

Jeongguk apparently doesn't get this memo. Comes out of your bathroom in just a towel wrapped around his hips. Doesn't tempt fate, but he does tempt you. Makes you convince yourself that maybe the negative test is a sign from the stars. An all clear. The go-ahead.

Shag Jeongguk, the stars whisper while they twinkle. You'll be fine.

But the stars are not to be trusted. They romanticise things a little too much. Give you false promises and prophesize empty futures.

"My God," you scold him. "Put some clothes on!"

It takes everything in him not to just drop his towel instead - but you were right. You're supposed to have learned from this lesson. You've so many of his clothes in your room now that he may as well have his own mini wardrobe. Just grabs a pair of shorts and a white shirt. Looks so cosy that you can't refuse when he encourages you to snuggle against him.

By the time Danbi arrives home from work, you and Jeongguk are both out like lights.

Asleep on the sofa, curled up, back to Jeongguk's chest, the documentary is still running. A soft smile rests on her lips as she quietly makes her way to her bedroom. Wonders when the pair of you will just grow up and come to the same realisation that quite literally everybody else has.

Which is exactly why she's so adamant on making the pair of you speak about it the following week, during pre-drinks at Jeongguk and Jimin's place.

It's not a grand night out or any celebration - just an excuse to get together with friends. Mid-seasons, there's much to do other than socialise with your nearest and dearest, and Jeongguk wants to blow off a little steam before his meeting with the Bank. Knows that once the ball is rolling and progress is being made, he won't have the opportunity to be so reckless with his time.

For now, though, he'll revel in the novelty of normalcy.

"Honestly," Jeongguk stresses, beer in hand, tipsy determination lacing his features. "I know what you think you saw, but-"

"Oh, not Jeongguk coming in strong with gaslighting," Danbi snorts, wine glass to her lips as her eyes judgmentally cast you both knowing gazes. Currently grilling him about the night at The Ryu, she doesn't buy his excuses for a second. "You can't deny the gallery. You almost kissed ! In front of everyone ."

She raises a good point; One that you are quick to deny.

"Ah," you interject. "But the key word, there, is almost . We were just trying to make it look like we were into one another. And, I mean.. gotcha!"

Jimin snorts. Mimics. " 'Look .'"

You ignore him. Continue to defend yourselves. Pretend like you didn't notice a small holographic fleck on Jeongguk's skin earlier. He's still stained in you, even if you haven't been painting his skin lovely shades of pink and purple much these days.

Despite Taehyung's art show having been and gone well over two weeks ago, it's the first time you're all hanging out together. You'll meet the others later when you get into town, so for now, you revel in the harmless bantering of your closest friends within the group.

The bottle of beer in Jeongguk's hand slowly warms, condensation sweltering down the sides. He takes a swig, and knocks it back with a shake of his head. "We aren't dating, we aren't fucking - what more do you want from us? For us to lie?"

"But you are lying!" Jimin whines, pulling one of the sofa pillows up to his face. Pressing down into it, he screams.

You don't care to hide the coy smile you throw Jeongguk's way. He doesn't care to hide his either, kind of enjoying the ridiculousness of it all. Biting down on his plump bottom lip, you're distracted momentarily by the way his lip ring flips in the corner of his mouth.

"Why does it even matter?" You laugh, getting your feet so you can retrieve your punnet of strawberries from the fridge. "What will confirmation do? Won't change anything."

"It'll satisfy my ever-present need to be correct," Jimin assures you, and it does make you laugh.

But then you're turning to walk back, and are struck by how gorgeous Jeongguk's new haircut makes him appear. He's always been charming. Always hot. There's just something about the way it's pushed back, and a few strands remain loose, that really gets you. Looks like a hot mechanic or some shit like that. The kinda guy who'd know his way around an engine.

Coming to stop beside Jeongguk, you perch on the arm of the sofa. Smirk. Bite down on your bottom lip.

Clasping his chin, you're pleased to see a total lack of surprise on Jeongguk's face. Instead, he trusts you. Knows that whatever you're doing comes with purpose. This isn't about desire.

He plays the hand you've dealt him spectacularly. Leaning in a little closer - but notably not as close as he's used to - you let the very tip of your nose nudge against his. Grin. Whisper, loud enough for your friends to hear, "Shall we tell them?"

Stroking his hand up your waist while you keep him locked in position, Jeongguk is almost too good at playing the role of a devoted lover. Looks at you with Orion's bow in his eyes, though if you were to think critically, you'd know it was Cupid who had struck him.

"About which part?"

Your friends stare in stunned silence. Jimin's jaw looks like it's fallen off its hinges. It's not like either of you notice. You're entirely focused on one another right now. Are just doing it for the shits and giggles, but kinda forget you're supposed to be winding your friends up, not each other.

"The part where we're actually embroiled in a FinDom contract, and the only reason I stick around is for the money," you lie with such cadence that it sounds entirely plausible.

They all know Jeongguk's in no position to finance such a lifestyle, mind you. They know it must be bullshit.

Jeongguk playfully frowns. "I thought we agreed on never telling a living soul? Anyways, I think they'd be more interested to know sex parties we go to every weekend?"

"Oh shit, you're right," you enthuse, quite clearly both trying to outdo the other. "And about your Daddy kink."

Now this one does make Jeongguk's lips twitch a little, denial begging its way up his throat, but painfully swallowed by his need to keep the game up. So instead, he shrugs. "They'll be just as interested in your Mummy kink."

But even if Jeongguk can fake it for that long, you can't. Need to tap out, otherwise you'll burst out laughing. Easing your grip on his jaw, you saunter back to your place on the sofa and simply shrug. Raise a brow. Let your tongue cheekily flick against your teeth as you address your friends. "Was that the confirmation you were after?"

"I'm gonna be sick," Jimin groans, rolling about on the floor.

"Oh, give over," you laugh. "You didn't actually believe that?"

Jeongguk needs another beer. Wants to wash away the mind-numbing way it feels to flirt with you, but knows there's absolutely no way he can stand right now. Would only serve to prove the suspicions of your friends true.

"I've seen Jeongguk lie before," Jimin reminds you. "Can't lie to save his life-"

"Hey!"

"- but that was the most convincing set of words that have ever come out of his mouth. You two are freaks - confirmed - and I wish I had never asked. Am scarred for life."

Glancing over to Jeongguk, you're pleased to see he's finding this just as funny as you are.

"Phew," he feigns relief. Braces himself, 'cause he knows what he's about to say is gonna get a reaction. "Was worried you'd react badly. It's why we didn't tell you about the Brony convention we're going to next weekend."

"Brony?!"

"What the fuck?"

"How do you even know what a Brony is?!"

"Wait... What is a Brony?" Taehyung asks a little cluelessly, and honestly, you think it's best to let Danbi explain that one.

As the conversation derails, you excuse yourself to go and make another drink. You're not due to leave the apartment for another half an hour or so, and there's plenty of liquor to tide you over until then.

Coming to stand behind you, your friends distracted by their own debate, Jeongguk lets his hand rest on your hip. It's not an unusual position for him to be in. He's acquainted with you in all and every capacity thinkable - there's not an inch of your skin that he hasn't devoured.

He's kissed, and he's caressed. Worshipped and reddened with the intimate touch of his hands. Has held your body so closely at times it's been hard to tell where his ended and yours began.

The encroachment upon your personal space is never intrusive with him. Is always welcome.

"What are we having?" He asks, not thinking anything of his incessant need to be touching you. It's just comfortable. Natural. Familiar.

"Was thinking about Star Lovers," you tell him.

Funny, really. He's been thinking about them a lot too, tonight - though perhaps not the kind you're talking about.

"Star Lovers," he simply nods. Smiles. Says, "Yeah. Sounds perfect."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 18

Author's note: 10 points if you can guess who the guy on the header is 😅 Finding pics for them sometimes is so difficult 🙈

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh, looks like Alex and his parents just arrived” my mum says. “Olivia, can you keep an eye on this while I go greet them? I don't want your dad to eat burnt food on his birthday.”

“Of course.” But before she can leave, Alex's mum shows up in the kitchen.

“Hello, ladies. How is that lunch going?”

“Almost ready” I say.

“Oh, Liv. How are you? Is that bug you had over Christmas gone?”

“We are getting there” I smile. 

“You look a lot better. And I'm sure a piece of my lasagna would help a lot” she says, uncovering the tray she was carrying. “It is your favourite.”

“Oh, thank you very…”

“Olivia, are you alright?” my mum says. “You've gone so pale…”

“I… I think I'm gonna be sick” I reply, quickly running towards the sink. 

“Olivia!” she says, holding my hair while everything I have eaten today leaves my body.

“My God, child. What happened?” Alex's mum says.

“I… I don't know. I smelled the lasagna and…” It's coming back. Help.

“What is going on here? What is that noise?” my dad says while walking into the kitchen.

“Olivia isn't feeling well.”

“Oh, my darling. What happened?”

“The… lasagna. The smell…” I mumble, my forehead resting on the sink. It is cold and it feels so nice…

“The smell of the lasagna made you sick? You've always loved it! We've actually had to stop you from eating it all more than once” my dad chuckles.

“Not anymore.”

“Not anymore? My darling, are you alright?”

“I think the bug she had over Christmas isn't completely gone” my mum says.

“That doesn't make any sense. The tests Dr. Smith ran said she was fine.”

“And I'm fine” I say, slowly moving from the sink. “I just need a nap.”

“Olivia, you don't look fine. At all” Alex's dad says. Now everyone is in the kitchen, giving me pitiful looks. All but Alex, who is, once again, looking at me in a way I don't understand.

“I think we should take you to the hospital, darling. They may see something that Dr. Smith's tests didn't see.”

“I'm fine, dad. I don't need more tests. And besides, it's your birthday. I don't want to ruin it for you.”

“You won't be ruining anything, darling. Let's go.”

“I said no, dad!” I say, raising my voice. “I don't want to go to the hospital, I'm fine. I just need a nap.”

“Olivia…”

“No! Leave me alone, I'm fine!” I insist.

“Tell them, Liv. Tell them what is actually going on” Alex says, his eyes going from mine to my stomach and back at my face. Oh… my God. 

He knows. He knows I'm pregnant, that's why he's been looking at me the way he has. But how? How did he find out? Only Kennedy and Madders know and… The cafeteria. When he fell. He heard us talking that day, that must be it.

“What do you mean? What does he mean?” my dad asks.

“If you don't tell them I will, Liv.”

“If I don't… Are you threatening me, Alex?”

“I'm just doing what is best for you” he says.

“What is best for me? Seriously?”

“Yeah” he shrugs.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on or not?” my dad asks, now being the one raising his voice.

“Liv is pregnant.”

“You fucking piece of shit” I say, closing the space between me and Alex and punching him.

“Olivia!” my mum screams, holding me before I hit him again.

“I fucking hate you, Alex! I don't want to see you ever again! Get the fuck out of my house!” I yell while he just stares at me, his hand on his bleeding lip. Looks like the training with Micky is useful for more than just one thing. 

“Olivia, is… is it true?” my dad says behind me. “Are you… Are you pregnant?”

“She is, Mr. Chapman. All the symptoms are there. The tiredness, the nausea… And you won't believe who the father is.”

“Shut the fuck up, Alex!” I yell again, trying to get free of my mum's grip. I'm killing him. I'm fucking killing him. 

“Olivia… you didn't get pregnant from James, did you?” 

“What? He and Kennedy are like family to me, mum. I would never do that!”

“I… I'm sorry. But you spend so much time together that… I don't know” she shrugs.

“He isn't a Tottenham player, don't worry” Alex says. That's it. It's over. He's gonna say Declan is the father, my dad will kick me out, and I will find myself living under a bridge while pregnant. 

“Then who is the father?” 

“I am” Alex smiles.

“What?” everyone says, me included.

“I am the father of Liv's baby” he says, smiling from ear to ear. What… the actual fuck.

“Oh… oh! That's wonderful news!” my dad chuckles. “Finally!”

“Finally?” I say, my eyes still focused on Alex and the stupid grin on his face. 

“Since you were kids we always thought you would end up together” he says. “Our two families becoming one.”

“Oh, Olivia. Congratulations!” Alex's mum ways while hugging me.

“We are gonna be grandads!” my dad says, hugging Alex's. 

“Is this why you two have been behaving so… weird lately?” my mum asks. “Because you were seeing each other?”

“Yes” Alex says.

“No” I reply.

“Yes or no?” she asks.

“We'll have time to discuss all that later. Now is time to celebrate!” my dad says. “Thank you for this birthday present, darling. You've made me so happy” he says while hugging me.

“You're… welcome?” 

“And thank you to you too, Alex. Ah, a grandchild! I can't believe it!” my dad says while giving him a big hug, the stupid grin he's had on his face since he dropped the bomb still there. God, I wish I could punch him again.

Like... this can't be real. This has to be one of my nightmares. Any moment now the killing will start and I will wake up. 

But as they all keep celebrating, opening a bottle of champagne and laughing, nothing happens. My mum is the only one who looks a bit more concerned, but other than that, there are happy faces wherever I look. Pure bliss. 

Because this isn't a dream. My family finally knows that I'm pregnant, but they think Alex is the father.

What. The. Fuck.

[randomlywanderingmoth]

FANSERVANT: Caster of Blessings

(picture created in picrew)

SERVANT CLASS: "Are- are you seriously asking that? Go back up the header and read that again." ALTERNATIVE NAMES: Kat. "Kat for the English speakers. Phonetically sounds like Cat. Yes I'm human, these are just a funny blessing." Neko-chan. "Neko-chan for the Japanese speakers, cuz Neko means Cat, heheh." Emma. "Wait, how the heck do you know that? I mean- it IS my name, and I don't mind you using it, but… that's the name of my Pseudo half… I mean, I guess if you're referring to the very normal human me, then that's fine I guess?"

TRUE NAME: "- woah woah woah hold on a hot minute here, I was gonna do a whole song and dance! Lemme have this!" True Name information presently sealed. "Thank you, dossier."

===

"Anyway, let's rip the band-aid off now, I'm a Pseudo-Servant. To make an extraordinarily long story short, I was a Master in a Grail War, and Caster was my Servant. A whole buncha buncha stuff happened, and I ended up inheriting her Saint Graph. Obviously, I didn't have the cat-ears or cat-tail prior to inheriting my Saint Graph. Don't worry about them too much."

"Oh- oh right, I should give a long-form description of what my deal is. Anyway, I'm the Caster of Blessings. I was gonna be cagey and tell you to call me Kat, but since the dossier blew my cover yeah you can call me Emma. I'm a hedge mage- was a hedge mage- that got tangled up in a Grail War. I ended up summoning the original Caster of Blessings, the one that wouldn't have been a Pseudo-Servant. We bonded, as people do, and I learned that she… didn't exactly like being the Caster of Blessings. It almost didn't matter, except that it turned out I was also compatible to hold that Saint Graph."

"Anyway, at one point… well, my memories are a jumble. I blame either the Throne or the Kaleidoscope, maybe both, but either she gave it to me after taking a fatal wound to let me keep being in the Grail War because she found my wish beautiful, or I took a fatal wound and she sacrificed her life to infuse me with her Saint Graph so I could survive, or I ended up waking up to my own potential as a Mage and we won the Grail and her half of the wishes on the Grail was to let go of her Saint Graph and it peeled off her and stuck to me… I'm rambling, sorry. Presumably, every path in the Kaleidoscope that lead to me becoming the Pseudo-Servant holding her Saint Graph merged, hence my jumbled memories. Presumably there's also memories in there of me being the Caster of Blessings that I summoned, but I'm thankful to be deprived of those memories in this summoning- I don't need that existential recursive headache, please and thanks."

"As the bearer of her Saint Graph, I incidentally also inherited her memories. And, lemme tell ya, I get why she wanted to leave. How many years, decades, centuries, millennia, do you think you could spend, trying to help people? How long can you work, in- I was gonna say in a Sisyphean effort, but even Sisyphus would object to this. I remembered all of it. All the effort, to try to help Humanity. To fix the mess I made- er, she made. Erm- disregard that."

"Anyway, as the Caster of Blessings, her job was as the name implies. To travel the world, to impart blessings unto humanity. To help fix the problems of the people, then to flee when they learned those problems were, on some level, her fault in the first place. Before you ask, no, her legend will never make mention of any of this, I wouldn't be saying it all if I thought it would."

"Anyway, she traveled, as you do, blessed people, as she could, and learned that… well, it's remarkably difficult to permanently quash the darker natures of humanity. She would say impossible, but I've a pedantic mindset to say it technically isn't impossible. But anyway. To give humans wealth is to invite greed, to give them talent is to rouse envy. Attempting to reconcile conflict only planted grudges to incite further outrage. Perhaps none of those in the moment, but given time, good things seem reluctant to ever last. The apple will always find its way to rot in the end."

"Eventually, she gave up. Because of course she did. Because you can say that, after seeing every attempt to help people crumble and fail, you would still keep trying, but immortality does not typically include immortal determination and willpower. Those are still very mortal, and, trust me, after thousands of years your resolve would also falter."

"One day, though, she met someone. Or, someone met her… the memories are difficult here. That someone didn't want to be remembered, if I had to guess- but anyway. They suggested a simple idea to her. The living person can retire, and her ever unending self-appointed task can be left to her memories. Engrave her existence on the Throne of Heroes."

"… she had the tiniest sliver of resolve left, and it was enough to do this final deed. To leave her task to a Saint Graph. But the Ghost Liner who held that Saint Graph, for a time, was her. Her memories, given form. Still uncontent. Still left to meekly tend the ever-turning nature of humanity."

"And then she was summoned to a silly Grail War by a silly girl with silly aspirations that were barely alive. And that silly girl wanted… so many things. And the Caster of Blessings had one more blessing that she hadn't ever given before, not in this way."

"And so, the original Caster of Blessings took her final retirement, and her erstwhile Master was stepped up to the line. The Pseudo-Servant, Caster of Blessings. That's me."

PARAMETERS:

Strength: E+ "… what's with that look? I'm a Caster. Base STR is what you get." Endurance: D+ "Wow, even as a Caster I have better than base Endurance. Neat." Agility: C+ "I know I have cat motifs going on but I am also a Caster. Be glad you got this." Mana: A+ "Don't be fooled, I can actually blow through my mana supply in a real hurry if I mismanage it." Luck: B- "My luck is actually pretty okay. That malus? I have a faint-but-constant urge to Test My Luck, and you don't need a bad luck streak to get screwed over, you just need one really bad hit." Noble Phantasm: EX "Okay so we can get back to this if I ever I pull out my True Name but even without it, the Noble Phantasm that I DO make regular use of is also still EX rank. It's pretty buckwild."

SKILLS:

"Now, disclaimer, I'm not giving you the proper names of my Skills. Those are sealed up along with my True Name. Don't worry, you'll still get an idea of my deal from the listed."

Item Construction (B+ Rank): "My primary Magecraft allows me to command, manipulate, and reinforce thread and fabric essentially at will. You'd be surprised how strong and durable cotton yarn is when reinforced by such high level Magecraft. It's a point of note, I can't just use straight fabric like shirts or jackets, but if I can unravel the yarn from like a scarf, I always have a weapon. And yes, the stuff I make is quantifiably powerful. Cool magic swords and axes, suits of armor? As long as I have enough thread, sure. The original Caster of Blessings was a lot more deft with this, but I'm capable enough in my own right."

Territory Creation (A- Rank): "I'm also able to delineate and define a 'home' territory, making it my Workshop- and it's a pretty ridiculously powerful Workshop at that, Temple-grade. The only issue, aside from the ritual to delineate that Temple, is that I can only denote one 'home' at a time. Make a new one? Old one stops being a Temple. Pretty sure there's some mythology somewhere about cats being protectors of homes. That's my excuse for now, anyway."

Presence Concealment (B+ Rank): "Ever seen a cat get sneaky? Yeah, I can do that pretty good. What's funny is, even if I get into a fight, if I just put a bit of mana into maintaining my concealment, I don't lose ranks after entering combat like standard Presence Concealment! Ever tried fighting someone your mind refuses to stick to? It's buckwild."

Golden Rule (C Rank): "Ah, erm… quick come up with something- right, y'know those Japanese lucky cats? Maneki-Neko? Sure, this is totally based on that. Anyway, it's not that I have cash, it's that I have, let's say, a remarkable talent for falling into wealth as needed."

Natural Body (A Rank): "Neat, huh? I get pluses to my STR, END, and AGI stats cuz of this, and my body is way more fit than it was when I was alive! Bonus, hostile effects that would negatively impact those stats don't work unless they can bypass this skill! No half measures were taken in the creation of the Caster of Blessings, and that sure as heck is reflected in this skill!"

Clairvoyance (A- Rank): "A byproduct of my Noble Phantasm, my eyes can even theoretically perceive the future if I try! The, uh, the minus is because… I'll take the blame on this, pretty sure original Caster never had this problem, but I'm not as good at controlling it. I can restrain it, and I can use Mystic Eye Killers on it to basically turn it off so it isn't quite so distracting, but… I'll be honest, I give full props to all the Servants who can use a skill like this on the fly, no problem. Clairvoyance is not nearly the free win that I used to think it was."

Divinity (B Rank): "Oh if I didn't have this it'd be real freakin' funny when I started passing around blessings like candy. The only reason I'm not A Rank is because my Saint Graph doesn't make it to god level, and both the original and I take serious umbrage with that. I mean, after everything she's done, hasn't she earned the right to return to- ah, sorry, nearly spilled the beans there, eheheh."

NOBLE PHANTASM:

Fatal Curiosity: Mystic Eyes of Observation

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. That's the whole phrase, by the way. Bet you've only heard the first half, heheh."

"Anyway, my eyes are capable of completely deconstructing the information presented to it in nearly any situation. A single glance and I can fully discern anything about anyone. Presence Concealment, True Name Concealment, Illusions, and similar effects basically mean nothing to me. I can read off nearly everything about any Servant or similar hostile in a matter of seconds. True Name, Parameters, Favorite Ice Cream Flavor, Skills, Fears and Weaknesses, Noble Phantasms, so on and so forth. It's a matter of seconds and not instantly because I need a bit to process and filter out the junk data from the tasty stuff, but the more mana I pump into it the faster the processing goes. At full power, yeah, it's basically instant."

"Speaking of stuff I can process instantly, the moment I see any sort of hostile action- an attack, a directed curse, a trap, or so on, my Mystic Eyes will instantly process and provide autonomous countermeasures. Oh, and bonus? If it's Magecraft, my Eyes will reverse-engineer it basically automatically. As in, if I see Magecraft used, I can use it too. Sadly, I can't take the information from previous summonings, and it's only the information of my Pseudo-Servant self, so I don't have all of humanity's Magecraft at my fingertips, but it's still a whole lotta lot to work with."

"Oh- that all does take a bit of a toll on mana, but even at rest my Eyes are constantly processing information- just at a slower rate than near-instant. At rest I could tell you the weak spots in the local construction or geography, I could autonomously counter minor Magecraft, I can even read minds. Or- rather, I have to. The Eyes never fully power down. It's… rather distracting at times, so I wear the glasses to turn it off when it's not needed."

"No secrets, no deceptions, nothing may be hidden from my eyes. Let us bear witness, together, to what happens next- FATAL CURIOSITY."

[rei-ismyname]

From The Ashes - Mystique

So, Mystique has her own book once more with issue #1 dropping on October 16th. Given the state of the Marvel world at the moment (or at least the X-books, everyone else seems focused elsewhere while mutants are being slaughtered and imprisoned... again) it really feels like Raven Darkholme's time to shine.

Looks cool but feels like something's missing

She hasn't had a solo book since 2004 - 20 years - and a lot has changed since then. She was quite the breakout character during the Krakoan age - she got her wife Destiny back, she found a sort of understanding with their son Nightcrawler (and we all learned the truth of the retcon in a pretty slick way), and perhaps most importantly we got a sense of her interiority. I'd be remiss in not mentioning Rogue, but they weren't really in each other's orbits until Fall of X. YMMV, but she became sympathetic for the first time ever. We got to see her interact with almost everyone as an uneasy ally while still being her bad bitch black ops self. Not friends, but on the same team with the overarching investment in keeping their shared home working. There was a foundation of connective tissue there right until the end.

Be Gay, Do Crime?

Alas, the wheel has turned again and Krakoa is no more. The connective tissue is gone. However, out of the three people she was closest to narratively - Destiny, Kurt and Rogue - the relationship I'm truly invested in seeing more of is her and Destiny. The book isn't called Mystique and Destiny, and she's not in any of the solicits or preview artwork, but surely they wouldn't do a Mystique book without her, would they?

My favourite sapphic terrorists

Yeah, I think they would tbh. Destiny is a very complex character to write and she was so entwined with Krakoa from the start in HoxPoX due to the nature of her gift - seeing possible futures. As the narrative pulls away from Krakoa, as we look for those pieces of connective tissue, as character growth is left by the wayside or undone, the world and stories are getting much smaller. Destiny had reached the promised land and her gift was focused on survival - of the married couple and Krakoa itself. I'm just not sure where she'd fit in a From The Ashes world.

Such a strong partnership too - Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler.

The elephant in the room is that the pair are very popular and I'm pretty sure the Mystique-buying demographic would have something to say about Destiny being absent. I'm thinking the Magneto treatment is likely, some contrived way of keeping her in the margins of the run or even depowering her. We know Mystique is going to be more of a face than she's been in the past, 'protecting mutants.' That is a good thing as her motivations were often baffling pre-2019. Her behaviour was often handwaved with 'craziness' which is not good for any character, especially a woman.

Destiny in her distinctive mask is visible in this header, although...

This was somewhat explained in Fall of X that Xavier's (consensual) memory tampering knocked something loose, for lack of a better term. I'm hoping the growth we saw sticks, and I don't think that's unrealistic, it's the rest of it. What prompted me writing this was the AIPT review of the first issue. It all sounds exciting but the only other character mentioned is Nick Fury, nothing on Destiny. Any reviewer worth their salt should have a sense of expectations, and the absence feels meaningful.

Obviously this is all speculation, which is fun, though I'm not going off nothing here. I'm trying to be mindful of being the 'Krakoa was the best and this shit sucks' person, but Krakoa WAS the best and I really don't want From The Ashes to suck. I don't have any control over that, though I do have control over my expectations.

Bling! knows what's up, leaning on the fourth wall.

The last thing I think needs consideration is that the couple got the Wedding Special very recently. It was pretty good, though I thought the best parts were the Claremont interview and Anole's ongoing protest. But it was popular!

Mystique would LOVE that. Bisexual Menace for life.

He ended up putting it on a t-shirt. I need one!

As fun as it was and as much hype it got at the time, remember that it was a Pride Month thing. Ever the rainbow capitalists, Marvel picked a winning focus but I don't think they'd have done outside of Pride Month. Sadly, that might apply to their relationship as well. I think it would be a miscalculation, but the signs point to it being a solo book. As I often say in my doomsaying posts, we shall see and I hope I'm wrong.

They're just too iconic and work so well together. Don't get me wrong, good writing can make anything work. Aside from my ongoing mourning of Krakoa, WLW rep is important and for all their faults they deserve love like everyone else. Maybe a Sisterhood of Evil Morally Ambiguous Mutants is on the cards?

[knight-princess]

I don’t really know where this came from, it’s just a bit of writing just cos I felt like it. A little oneshot set as they cross the Shattered Sea. Header by @hgstuff

Kit was getting real fed up with this thrice blasted sea. She was sick of looking to the horizon and seeing nothing more than an endless seascape, monotonous and unbroken save by the odd, sad, sandy little island. She was sick of the endless travelling, she was sick of the food that grew ever staler and scarcer, sick of the grating rattle of the sleigh, but most of all she was sick of waiting.

She’d lost track of how long they’d been out here. How long Airk had been gone for. How long the Crone had had him.

They’d stopped for the night, and with no convenient little island in sight, they’d had to settle for making camp in ankle deep water again, and wet feet all evening. Cooking would be fun, setting everything just above the waters reach.

She was even fed up of the sloshing sound of the water.

She didn’t realise she was grinding her teeth until Jade made her jump by setting her hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You startled me,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Yeah, you looked like you were somewhere else, up here,” Jade tapped her temple. “You okay?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Mmhm. Well, are you gonna help set up? We’ve still got enough rations to make a good meal of it tonight. Tomorrow. . . well, that’ll have to take care of itself, but we should be able to have a good time of it tonight.”

“I . . . think I’d like to be alone tonight.”

Jade paused, an eyebrow flicked up in silent doubt. It was a Pause, and like all of Jade’s signature Pauses, full of meaning if you knew how to read her. This one was her I know when you’re lying, Kit pause. “Okay, spit it out. What’s wrong?”

Kit turned away, her feet carrying her splashing across the uneven sand beneath her feet and the hateful never ending awful water. “Nothing. Nothing, except, you know, my brother. Being held by them. For . . . God knows how long, at a place you can only reach by doing this ridiculous journey, with some terrible old hag who Willow talks about like she’s the worst thing in the whole goddamn world. What if they’re . . . What if . . .” She took a breath that shuddered and ran her hands through her hair, which was crusty with salt and too long since it had been properly cared for. “So. Aside from all that? Nothing. I’m just tired.” She kicked the water. “Go back to the others.”

The silence was almost worse. “Kit. I’m sorry. We’ll be there soon. We’re going as fast as we can.”

“I know.”

“You heard Elora today. We’re nearly there, and she’s been training, and we’ve been training.” She sounded almost as if she were babbling, a most un-Jade-like thing. When Kit flicked her gaze to her and their eyes met, she found Jade’s deep with worry. “We’ll get Airk back.” She licked her lips, hesitating, like she was wondering if her next words were altogether wise. “I promise.”

Kit felt a spark of old anger. An empty promise, that’s all it was. How could Jade promise such a thing? They had no idea what they’d find when they reached the Immemorial City. Kit had a retort ready to go, but it died in her throat. She bowed her head, her shoulders curling in. She felt cold as the anger deserted her. And what was the point in getting angry, really? It wouldn’t get her to Airk faster. It wouldn’t undo what had happened the night he’d been kidnapped. It wouldn’t change the fact her friend was just trying to make her feel better.

She felt Jade’s arms wrap around her and leant into her. “Yeah. We’ll fight the Gales and the Crone and get him back,” she whispered. “No problem.”

“You scared?”

“No.” A beat. “Yes.”

Jade held her tighter, a steady warmth, a comforting pressure. “I’m here,” she said. She rested her chin atop Kit’s head. “I’ll be with you. No matter what we face.”

“What if it’s too late?” Kit whispered. “What if Airk . . . the Crone . . .” She trailed off, afraid to speak her deepest fear.

Jade brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Then I’ll be with you for that too.”

[chickenparm]

Tradition - Part Five

Check out @drawlypsy’s full version of the header that can be found here!

“Sn-Snezhnayan tradition dictates in a traditional battle, the winner is allowed to request one thing from the-” another cough, born from phlegm in his throat that rattles wetly, “from the loser.” (or, You accept a bet and despite not winning, you’re not sure if you’ve actually lost.)

Previous Part | Next Part AO3 Link

Childe/f!Reader 2,598 Words - SFW Bamboozled into marriage, awkwardness, fluff, future smut

---

“You’ve been around Childe again, haven’t you?”

Paimon, paragon of astuteness and observation, clocks the ease that settles over your shoulders for the following days after your discussion with Childe. Coming to an agreement feels like a significant weight has been removed from your shoulders. 

Yes, everything is progressing as planned, but knowing that you’re going into this with clear intentions is a whole lot easier than it had been only a few days before. And there’s something to be said about how his agreement to go a little slower ignites something inside of you to take things faster.

It’s as easy as verifying with Zhongli that he’s able to officiate it - as Zhongli, not Rex Lapis - and then hunting down your husband-to-be with the news that you’ll be getting married that afternoon. Surely it wouldn’t be ideal for Childe, he’s likely working his Very Honorable and Very Respectable job, but it’s obvious that he’d drop everything if it meant he’d be getting what he’s repeatedly said he’s been wanting for a while now. 

Since the moment you met, running from Millelith when he’d so-heroically come to your rescue, it seems. If you knew back then that things would end up this way, would you have humored Childe at all? Though his charm and personality had lulled you into complacency back then, knowing what you know now and how you’d ended up… 

You think the answer is yes.

Miko would be rather upset if you just went off and had someone else do it, Geo Archon or not. Surely Childe wouldn’t mind a bit of a trip to get this whole business done - he’s waited long enough. And how many other people could claim their wedding was officiated by Guuji Yae of the Grand Narukami Shrine, anyway? 

“Hello!? Are you even listening to Paimon?”

Snapping back to the reality of Liyue Harbor and unable to really lie during her inquisition, you give Paimon a sheepish smile that speaks far more than your words ever could. Yet you provide them anyway in an attempt to soften the blow. “We had a talk and cleared some things up. Everything is fine now, Paimon.”

“You’re still wearing the ring.”

“Yeah, I am.” 

And the discussion falls flat there. Because it’s obvious you’d come to a decision to go through with it, and there’s very little Paimon can do to persuade you otherwise. What point is there trying to dissuade you, when you’ve already tuned her presence out in favor of looking down at your hand flat on the table, ring glittering on your finger attractively?

Very little, it seems. 

“Anyway,” Paimon urges, fluttering about your head in a shower of constellations, effectively grabbing your attention from both her erratic movements and the crumbs of Lotus Flower Crisp fluttering on top of your head, “Paimon heard from Keqing that the blockage at the Chasm will be cleared up soon! A few more days, tops! Then we can get a move on and see if we can get more information about your twin from the Dendro Archon.”

That should be good news. It should bring excitement to your heart, since you’ve been stagnant for so long after that entire situation in Inazuma that resulted in very little information. But that stagnancy was the perfect environment to cultivate this odd arrangement with Childe, and now you’ll need to just leave.

Swallowing around the sip of tea you’d just taken, you answer with a little less gusto, “That’s wonderful. I’m sure if anyone knows something, it’ll be the God of Wisdom.”

“You’d think! But Zhongli has been alive for so long and still won’t tell us anything!”

Another gripe for another day, you think as the next round of food comes and Paimon’s attention is attracted to Jueyun Chili Chicken instead of your fractured family life and confusing love life. A blessing in the disguise of spicy peppers and roasted poultry. 

—

Liyue Harbor is prettier at night time, you think. 

Its golden hues give way to rich, warm shades of red and brown as the sun goes down and the lanterns strung in front of stores and across the roads and walkways are lit by the public. The ocean looms dark in the background, only a smattering of light reflected on the calm waves from the moon above. 

Somewhere behind you, just off the living area, Paimon snores away in the bedroom. If she were any bigger, it would be a nightmare trying to climb into bed, but it’s easy enough to shift her around to make some space, and she tends not to wake up in the middle of it. 

But your thoughts are a little too restless for sleep, and the tea you drank had a bit more caffeine than you’re used to. With your elbows on the window’s edge and your chin propped on your crossed arms, you loosened your grip on your thoughts and let them run free. 

It’s little wonder about what topic they settled on. The ring is warm against your finger. 

The light of the hanging lanterns grows fuzzy and formless as you squint your eyes, finding amusement in the way it all bleeds together if you stop looking so hard. Sometimes the details don’t matter when it’s just as pretty when less-defined. 

Just like your relationship with the man standing below your window, hands in his pockets and watching you quietly. Childe positively glows in the night of Liyue, his copper hair turning to a blaze of fire with such complementary colors. For just a moment, he watches you allow your thoughts to wander, completely oblivious to his presence. 

A little impatiently, only because Childe is pleased to have gotten to see you, he calls your name gently as if he weren’t looking to startle you. Visibly your thoughts grind to a halt, and your eyes flick down to look at him on the street below. It’s not very far; you’re only two stories off the ground floor. 

Like a siren song, his voice floats up from below, “You know, every country in Teyvat has its own version of the same old folktale. Do you know it? It’s about a princess with hair long enough for her prince to climb it to the highest room of the tallest tower she’s locked away in. Then he rescues her, they get married, and live happily ever after.”

Tilting your head so it’s your cheek on your arms instead of your chin, your pensive expression turns a bit dreamy as you ask, “Do you think you’re my prince, then? My hair isn’t nearly long enough for you to climb your way up here.”

Rocking on his heels, his eyes dart from your face to the side of the inn. His intentions are clear, but you have no time to stop him before he takes a running start and grabs on to one of the low-hanging eaves, pulling himself toward that first overhang. Then, a hop to reach the next one that wraps around the building with narrow terracotta tiles. 

Childe slips into the room with little fanfare, and you turn to follow his trajectory as he lands on his feet and lets out a little breath - as if that were enough to exert him in the slightest. It’s darker in here, the glow of his hair is dimmed, and his eyes seem fathomless and dark as he turns to look at you. The upturn of his lips brightens his expression considerably, from ominous to pleasing in the blink of an eye. 

“Now, I suppose I should rescue you next. Once we’re out of here, we can return to my kingdom and be married. Then we’ll get started on that happily ever after.”

“One chapter of the story at a time, Prince Charming.” Your tone is filled with faux irritation; both of you understand it’s nothing but a farce. Though, perhaps you understand it a little better, considering the thoughts that have been running rampant through your head for days now. 

You expect him to take a seat on the sofa, or even just lean against the wall. But with a huff of breath, he settles onto the window seat next to you and mirrors your position - arms crossed on the ledge, chin resting upon them. Once more, the glow of Liyue Harbor graces his features, and that ethereal beauty comes back. 

Perhaps you’ve been thinking about him a little too much. 

Childe’s lower lip juts out, blowing  the single strand of his long bangs up for a brief second before they fall back down. A fruitless endeavor, one that he doesn’t attempt again as he breaks the silence. “So, for this next chapter, what comes next? Is this where the Prince confesses his love? Or should we settle for True Love’s First Kiss?”

“Is that a Snezhnayan thing, or something?” You ask, trying so very hard not to watch him from the corner of your eye. You fail, and he knows it, but for once he has the grace not to pounce on an opportunity. Once more, you’re stirred by the thought of him simply remembering your request to take things slow. He’s not perfect, but… he’s trying. 

Archons, you like that a little too much. 

A smile curves at his lips when he hears your little comment. “I’m pretty sure Mondstadt’s version mentions something similar. Tonia has me send books home all the time, and I have to give them a quick read to make sure they’re appropriate.”

Because of course, he’s responsible like that. Checking the contents of books so they aren’t too much for his little sister. Your fingers tap on the outside wall of the inn, just beneath the window, and his eyes move to the fidgeting movement as you double-back on the conversation. “I think I know the next chapter.”

“Oh? Should I ask for spoilers, or enjoy things as they come?”

“Spoilers might be necessary on this one.” You stop your tapping, instead pressing your nails into the wood. Not enough to damage it, but the pressure is nice to ground yourself as you go ahead and lay everything on the table. “Good stories always have a bit of hardship, don’t they? This next chapter, your princess needs to move on to Sumeru for a time.”

“Ah.”

Childe’s response is… hard to read. For a long, long time, he says nothing at all, and neither do you. You’re not the only writer of this fairy tale, and it’s his turn to come up with the next step of this dramatic little chapter that has fallen into your lap. In reality, the solution is simple, and twofold. 

Either you get married before you leave Liyue - likely within the next few days. It’d have to be a shotgun wedding, with none of the promises you made to Yae Miko about fluttering off to Inazuma for a wedding ordained by the Guuji herself. It would cut out a lot of the fluff, and while at one point you would’ve been just fine with that, recent events and your own traitorous thoughts have brought that preference to a bitter end. 

With that option off the table, it leaves only…

“We’ll have to have a bit of trial before the wedding. Some strife in a story makes the payoff all the more sweet, and I’d like to savor ours, if you don’t mind.”

A complete swap from how adamant he’d been you don’t dally too long on a decision at the beginning. But these sorts of things are a two way street, and by making your own journey down it, perhaps he isn’t as skittish. You can only surmise he thought you were going to find a way to back out of it before, and that’s the reason for his wish for swiftness. 

But now you’re willing, now you’re beginning to want this, and Teyvat has thrown a rather annoying wrench in your plans. With Sumeru comes distance and time, that’s a given. But with the way your search for the Archons has gone recently, Sumeru will likely bring the Fatui. 

Which puts you at odds with Childe yet again, even if he necessarily won’t be there. Your presence will be enough of an inconvenience that this entire matter might not survive if he receives orders to take you out once and for all. 

Would he accept them, you wonder?

“I might not be here when you’re finished with your business in Sumeru. Occasionally I have to leave for… business.”

“I know.”

“I’d like to ask you to wait for me here, but… that’s not fair. I’m not stupid enough to think that sitting at this window and sighing longingly out at the harbor while waiting for my ship to come in is your only goal. You need to find your sibling, and there are steps you have to take to do that. I’m not one of those steps.”

Shifting a little, you turn to him and regard his expression as he looks out in the direction you’d been distracted with for most of the evening. He looks rather forlorn, despite his acceptance of the situation. Clearing your throat, you attempt to ease his ache, at least a little. “Maybe not a step, but… a handrail? If I stumble, maybe you can be there to help keep me steady.”

Childe’s chin lifts off his arms and he scrutinizes you for a beat. The suspicion melts away, and in its place is the slow crawl of a smile that’s infectious, your lips wobbling as you try not to return it with too much enthusiasm. 

With the amber light, the too-full feeling in your chest, the warmth coming through the open window, everything seems to slow to a crawl. Your thoughts, your breaths, your heartbeat. Childe unfolds one arm from the window’s ledge reaching his hand out to glide along your jaw, fingertips pressing into the soft skin just beneath your ear. 

It would be so easy to just lean forward and fall into him. To kiss him and end all this odd tiptoeing around where you’re unsure of where you stand. His position has been made clear; Childe said so himself that he loves you. But distance makes the heart grow fonder, and certain feelings clearer. 

So, you double down. Not only will that distance come from Sumeru, but also the way your spine locks to keep you from falling into a trap of your own making by kissing him as deeply as he’ll let you. 

“I’ll wear your ring while I’m gone.”

“And what about me? Is there a souvenir I can keep close to soothe the aching of my bleeding heart?” On anyone else, it would be sarcastic. And maybe it still is when it comes from him, just a little bit. Except his fingers glide down your neck and his eyes follow their movement with a quiet sort of wonder, and you’re not quite sure he’s telling a lie. 

Swallowing thickly, a motion he traces with his thumb once it passes, you play along with a weak smile. “I’ll see what I can find for you to treasure.”

Childe’s mouth opens, a bit too quickly, but whatever he’s about to say dies as he snaps his mouth shut and thinks better of it. If his past requests were to be extrapolated upon, you have a strong feeling of what little keepsake he’d ask of you - one you’re not quite sure you’re ready for, yet. 

Or, perhaps you are, and you’re just frightened. 

[pinkrelish]

Prev anon here! You’ve done a great job in keeping reader non specific. I think part of the reason it resonates is because you’ve done a great job at keeping her relatable to so many people, which is not an easy feat. And I know this is a tricky topic(but an important one) but I do see the effort you put it and it’s def appreciated.

And you SHOULD rb all the amazing fan art that’s been made!! Every single one has been so so lovely!! And it’s lovely that people are inspired to make such art. It’s certainly not in your control how others want to depict anyone.

On that note, Idk where the line is in “we’re all just individuals making things!” And “wow somehow so much of the fanart within the fandom is white-centric” there is no easy answer, and it’s not one persons issue to shoulder or even address, but there’s certainly an awareness that can be had around it.

thank you for coming back! i realized after reading over my last response that i talked a lot about myself, and my fic, because i wasn't sure how to react to TYP specifically spawning this larger conversation, and didn't mean to put the sole focus on myself.

i've only contributed to one fandom before this and it was OC heavy, so the idea of people drawing reader inserts—who should be written as vague—is new to me. i've seen three other pieces of fanart for other writer's RI stories, and in two of them the skin tone was left blank and the head was cut off so no hair style could be depicted, and in the third it was chosen to be a white RI.

and even though i haven't been in a fandom as large as this, media in general leans, favors, and worships skinny white women as the ideal, and it's sadly not surprising when i scroll past header after header on fics that exemplify this. do i think writers do this maliciously? no. that's why i reach out in private with the intent to educate. do i also think poc have made RI art, written RI stories, and don't get as much engagement, and have received racist anons saying their art is not inclusive, and made to feel unwelcomed? absolutely. not even a question.

not too long ago when a big blog was pointed out for having an extremely white-coded fic, their response was to double down, call the poc trying to educate them "aggressive", and ultimately ignore them, and acted obtuse about the issue when all they asked for, at minimum, was for the fic to having a warning at the top.

and how many stories on here *don't* have warnings, but have multiple word choices indicating how pale the reader is? ....many. again, i'd wager most white writers aren't even conscious of these decisions until pointed out, but, yeah, poc have spoken up in the eddie munson x reader tag many times about getting part way through a story only to read something white-coded, and get thrown out of the immersion.

i'm not sure how to address the fanart with TYP specifically, and artists choosing to insert themselves, or representing themselves by choosing a skin tone close to their own to give miss mouse, other than to say i hope i'm making this blog a comfortable space for anyone to contribute art if they feel inspired and have the time, and know that i will defend anyone's interpretation because, in essence, she exists as a vehicle to tell a story about eddie finding love. i would love to see more representation for her so everyone can picture themselves in the story.

i'm clearly not an eloquent speaker, but i wanted to answer this with the audience i have, and as you said in the ask, bring awareness to an issue that exists in all fandoms, and is much larger than my story or fanart for my story, and is more about poc not feeling comfortable contributing, or even existing, in fandom spaces.

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header art by Keltii-tea!

Chapter 5: A Story for Donna

"The MARS worked," Rose said. "Aren't you happy?"

Chris looked anything but. They sat together in the BSAA facility's cafeteria. Well, Chris was sitting, and Rose was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. She was on her third cup of coffee- cream and three sugars- while Chris nursed his green tea, dunking the teabag in then slowly withdrawing it before repeating the whole maneuver, his head angled downward, his brows drawn together, a murder's worth of crows' feet cutting lines from the corners of his eyes.

Someone walked past outside the cafeteria, and Rose looked up, eyes big. Just an IT guy. Not anyone coming to get them, coming to take them to see Donna.

"You should be happy," Rose pressed.

"Yeah. HQ is happy. 'An admirable performance.'" He'd gotten off the phone with them a few minutes before. "They're gonna reinstate my control over Hound Wolf Squad for the mission, provided Beneviento cooperates."

"That's good," Rose said.

"Yeah."

He went silent once more. Rose finished another lap, sipping at her coffee, then came to a halt by his side.

"This is gonna work, Chris," she told him. "Not just the MARS, I mean. All of it."

"I'd feel a lot more confident about this if it didn't involve Miranda's bioweapons."

"I know that. I-"

"No, I'm not sure you do."

"You have any better plans, then? I'm all ears."

He glanced up at her, assessing her. "We're still not sure what you are," he said. "Not fully. When Miranda awakened you from the megamycete-"

Rose cut over him. "If you're about to say I'm a dangerous liability, that the BSAA doesn't trust me, that I shouldn't be allowed around humans, then you can save it. I know."

She lowered her voice. "Kind of obvious what with the evil-eye I get when all I want is a snack or something..."

"That's- no, Rose, I wasn't gonna..." He rubbed his forehead, staring down into his undrunk cup of green tea. "We're not still sure how much of Miranda was absorbed into you via the megamycete. How many of her memories still linger within your subconscious. And...with proximity to the village, with more Lords resurrected and reinvigorating the hive mind-"

"You think I could become Mother Miranda," Rose said.

He looked at her again. The answer was plain in his blue eyes.

"You're kidding me," Rose said. "I would never be like Miranda. Never-"

"You said it yourself. The other Lords had no choice in their actions. They were forced to comply to Miranda's bidding."

"I'm- no. No." She slammed down her mug of coffee. "She's...she's dead. She's never coming back."

"So you've never experienced any of her memories?" Chris asked.

"No."

He gave a little nod. "Okay," he said.

"Okay? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm telling the truth. Unlike you have a history of doing."

He lifted his hands in a little fine, fine, gesture. "I meant what I said. Okay. I believe you. As long as you let me know if that changes."

"It won't," Rose said. "I'm way stronger than Miranda."

"She was the megamycete's original host," Chris said. "Channeling all her energy into keeping the villagers and all her monsters under her control. Freed of that...who can say how powerful she really was."

Silence fell. Rose took up her coffee again, but she didn't want to pace anymore. She slid onto the cafeteria table bench opposite Chris, staring down at the light brown liquid in her cup.

"And what about your mother?" Chris said.

His voice was even, but the words drove themselves into Rose like he'd vaulted the table and punched her right in the gut. She gave a little shudder.

"I don't know," she said.

"She was a bioterrorist before you were born, Rose. She went back to that life after you were taken-"

"He didn't...take me, exactly," Rose said. "My father gave me to him for protection."

"Until he could get you to civilization."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Ethan was desperate. He..." Chris gave an exasperated huff. "I can't convince you of this, Rose, and I don't want to try anymore."

"Then don't."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Rose said. "I didn't mean to be so sassy."

"That right."

"Not really."

He almost smiled. He dipped the teabag back into the cup.

"Ethan and Mia..." he began. "I thought I'd helped them. Got it right. After Dulvey, after cleaning up the mess Eveline and the Connections and Lucas Baker left behind, I thought- I'd saved them this time. I'd helped these ones. I'd got it right. Mia was, uh- well. She was getting through things. Taking meds, seeing a therapist, but...anyone would need to, after what she'd been through for the past three years. I never imagined what she'd been keeping secret. Guess it was even more than I bargained for."

"My father's mutation."

"And then, to be capable of going straight back to terrorism..." He gave his head a little shake. "I imagine her bridges to the Connections were all burnt, but there's always a new den of wolves looking for their newest packmate."

"Anyone can pull anything, given the right situation," Rose said. It was a quality she'd always associated with Heisenberg, for better or worse.

"Yeah," Chris said. "I sure know that."

"And Chris?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to worry about me."

"About what, specifically?"

Rose licked her lips.

"Miranda," she said.

She paused again.

"I'll never be like her," she went on, after a moment, her voice small. "I would never do the things she did."

Chris nodded, but he had no words of comfort for her. Those were thin on the ground, these days.

"Sir?"

A researcher stood at the door, clipboard in hand. Chris looked up, at once on alert.

"It time?" he said.

The researcher nodded. "She's ready for you."

***

Down white corridors, past labs, past vaults of biohazards, locked up tight. Rose's palms were slick, so she put them in her pockets as they entered the facility's containment area: a labyrinth of cells, guards at every doorway.

"She's been docile," the researcher was explaining. "To a fault, really. Without flora to transmit her hallucinogen, she's of little threat to anyone. While bioscans indicate she has the same increased muscle density and regenerative capabilities as other Cadou hosts, she's...well. You'll see."

They reached the thick glass of what was clearly a cell. Rose squinted in. The lights were down, the room beyond dark to such a degree she couldn't see anything inside.

"She's in there?" she asked.

"Sure is."

Rose paused. Then, "Can I go in?"

"Best not," Chris cut in. "Can you bring up the lights?"

The darkness within the room eased. It was a dull concrete cell, a cot in a corner, a washbasin in another. At the far wall, in a chair angled away from the observation window, sat a slim figure dressed in BSAA sweats.

Someone had detangled her hair, and it hung in a shining black sheet down her back and shoulders. Long, spidery hands with black nails were set lightly on Angie in her lap. Of her face, all Rose could see was the pale edge of one cheekbone, the tip of a nose.

Donna Beneviento didn't move, not even to acknowledge the change in lighting, nor the voices through the observation window. She might have been a still photograph, a projection on the wall.

"Is she...is she okay?" Rose asked.

"Vitals are normal. Cadou activity is lively. She's all there, physically speaking. As for her mental state- well. Redfield, you saw Miranda's files on her."

Chris nodded.

"Is there a speaker?" Rose asked.

The researcher pressed a button by the window. "Good evening, Miss Beneviento," she said, her voice crackling into the room. "You have some visitors."

There was no response.

Chris shifted his weight, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

"The MARS regenerates tissue," he told Rose, quietly. "But neurological patterns...those can be a lot more delicate."

"So let me in there with her," Rose said. "I can talk to her."

"You-"

"I can talk to her," Rose said, more quietly, pressing the word talk. "Chris, please." She decided to go for the big guns. "If you went to all this trouble of fixing up the MARS, recovering Donna's Cadou remnant, regenerating a whole-ass BOW from a couple pieces of crystal and a prayer, and all she does is give you the silent treatment, won't that disappoint HQ even more than you already have?"

He looked sharply down at her.

"Won't it?" Rose prompted.

"Low blow, Winters," Chris said.

"Yeah, well, did it land?"

A muscle worked in his jaw. "You say she's not excreting her hallucinogens?" he asked the researcher.

"Yes, sir. The room's air supply is kept on its own loop, so we know we aren't being affected out here, and sensors aren't detecting any contaminants inside."

Another pause, then-

"Just be careful, Rose," Chris told her.

They ended up giving her a rebreather anyway, the same kind she'd worn into the antiques shop with Chris; if there was any chance at all of Donna tripping her out, Rose supposed the BSAA didn't want her going on some kind of hallucinogen-fueled rampage.

She stepped into the airlock, listened to the doors seal around her, winced as the icy decontamination fog hissed into the air, stinging against her exposed hands. It swirled away, and the second door unsealed with a chunk.

Proceed, a cool, automated voice said.

With a small, steadying breath Rose stepped through the second door and into the darkness of the cell.

The air slipped over her hands, cool and dry. She stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Donna a few yards away.

Close up, she was smaller than Rose had pictured her. In Heisenberg's memories, the ones she'd glimpsed during her time rummaging around in his head, the ones she'd glimpsed in the deep, painful hearts of his dreams, Donna had seemed more...substantial. Maybe because he'd known her when Claudia was alive, before the both of them had been broken by her death, he remembered her as the person she was before.

Now, she sat in the chair with her head slightly lowered, her shoulderblades sharp as bird bones through the incongruous gray sweatshirt.

"Hey, Donna," Rose said, softly.

A faint rustle. She'd shifted in her chair.

Rose's heart gave a little leap. Was she listening? She pressed on. "Are you okay? Is there anything you need? Do...do you feel all right?"

Nothing. Rose glanced toward the observation window, which appeared as a mirror from this side. She looked nearly as insubstantial as Donna in this lighting, her shoulder-length hair and skin colorless in the faint light from above.

The light...

"It's too bright in here, isn't it?" she said. "I get it. I don't like direct sunlight, either. I guess it's the mold, huh? I mean, makes sense, right, mushrooms don't like the sun..."

She was rambling. Donna seemed to have shut down again; she sat frozen in place.

"Chris, you hear me?" Rose said.

A knock came on the glass.

"Turn down the lights again."

There was a long pause. Come on, Redfield, Rose thought, impatient. Then the lights dimmed; only a faint glow through the observation window allowed Rose to see anything at all. Donna became a dark, indistinct shape, her pasty skin making her hands and trace of a cheekbone seem to float disconnected from the rest of her.

"Okay, Donna," Rose said. "Is that better?"

"You really think she's gonna start blabbing to you?"

The voice grated from the darkness, childish and sly. Angie. Rose couldn't see her, but she heard the faint grind and rustle of her movement. A chill feathered through Rose's nerves as she shifted backwards on reflex. Interesting to look at Angie might be, but a creepy doll was still a creepy doll.

A cackle. "Oooh, scared, little Rose? All your power, and you're still struck silly by the dark..."

"You weren't ever scared by the dark, Donna?" Rose said.

There was a silence. Then she heard whispering in it. Faint, rapid; she made out no words, just that there were two voices involved. She couldn't tell which was Donna and which was Angie. Maybe it was Angie talking to herself.

"Donna isn't interested in what you're selling," Angie said finally. "You gotta go through me."

"Okay," Rose said. She inched closer, a hand slightly lifted. "Fine. That's just fine. You know who I am, don't you?"

"The nasty little spawn of the man who killed us." A hiss, like an angry opossum. "Ethan Winters. Oooh, Miranda liked him, she did. Perfect, she said. Perfect. The answer to everything she'd been working toward since, hee hee, forever. We knew it would be the death of us, but...gotta do what Mommy says, that's what Donna told me."

"You...you knew Miranda's end goal was to have you all killed? To replace you?" Rose's heart began to thump. Imagining Heisenberg slaughtered like he was nothing, imagining the magnificent Lady Dimitrescu cast aside as if she was some expendable thing...horrific. Who could do something like that?

I would never, she thought, savagely, toward Chris. No matter what clever little hypotheses you and the BSAA come up with.

"Yep," Angie said, nonchalant. "But Donna was so grateful to Miranda. Taking her in after her parents...after...Claudia."

Her voice dropped on the girl's name, and as she said it, Rose heard a simultaneous scratchy whisper, as if in echo.

"She took care of us," Angie went on. "We would have thrown ourselves off the waterfall if not for her. We tried to cope. Ohhh, we tried."

Her voice grated down and down, like a gramophone losing steam. "We made our cute friends act it out."

"Your cute friends...you mean the other dolls?"

"Mm-hm! We made them be everyone. Mama and Papa. Me and Donna and Claudia. Even Mister Karl, Donna's meanie brother. And then one by one they fell down until only me and Donna and Karl were left."

"Heisenberg was there when Claudia died?"

"He watched it. He watched her. Held her little hand while she spat blood all over the place." The doll made a theatrical blech sound. "She made such a nasty mess! And after, did he help clean it up? No. No. No, he did not."

"He left," Rose said.

"And he didn't come back," Angie said. "And Donna learned he'd come to spy on them, that he was the reason Miranda decided to give Claudia her gift. And Donna broke apart. And so she went to Miranda and Miranda became her new mother."

Angie gave a little snort. "Donna didn't need him anyway. All she needed was me. No boys allowed in our playhouse. Donna thought he might visit when we buried Claudia but he didn't. It was a pretty burial. Flowers and candles and a grand headstone and Claudia with her hair in braids and her favorite yellow ribbons on the ends."

Another lowering of the voice, a hissing hush, as close to the doll could get to a whisper. Another raspy echo chasing Angie's words, Donna speaking in time.

"So small," she said. "So little. Miranda promised she would live through the gift." Her voice became so quiet Rose barely caught the last words. "Miranda lied."

It was beginning to make a bit of sense. So they'd all once been- well, if not close, at least cordial. Heisenberg had spent time at House Beneviento, had become, like he'd said, a kind of surrogate father to Claudia. A companion to Donna, annoying and entertaining her in equal measure, as he was wont. A break in her agonizing loneliness. And when Claudia died, nothing between him and Donna was ever the same again.

Oh, god, and what loneliness it was. The kind that drove someone to go back to the thing that had destroyed them, just so they didn't have to face another day in an empty house.

Rose lowered her hand. Her fear had died down, replaced by a hollow ache, close to tears. All she wanted to do was go to Donna and hold her hands in the dark.

She didn't.

She took a short breath.

"Donna," she said. "Mister Karl is why I'm here now." Another glance toward the glass. Don't you stop me on this one, Chris. "He's gone missing. He was taken, stolen away. And now I'm gonna go get him."

"Why?"

"Because-" It was a long, long story. How to sum it up so that one homicidal doll and one broken, emotionally bankrupt, childishly delusional mutant would understand? "Uh-"

"Was your papa's vengeance not good enough for you?" Angie screeched, over whatever arguments Rose was about to make. "You gotta get him back to make him pay? Is that it?"

"No! No-"

"You should have left us alone. Left us to be dead! Donna doesn't want your pity. She doesn't want this cage. Again and again, so many birdcages. Why can't you just leave us be?"

"Because I need you! Because I want your help, okay? Just listen to me-"

"Our help?" A high trill of laughter, impish and maniacal, like what she'd said was the funniest joke in the world. The sound of sharpening knives echoed from the dark. Rose's palms began to sweat. The doll didn't have any hidden weapons on her- the BSAA had examined her thoroughly- but in the darkness it was all too easy to imagine rusty blades coming from nowhere, going for the eyes. "Our help? Why do you want Mister Karl back, anyway? Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!"

Frustration mounted. How could she make them get it? How could she possibly plead her case and atone for her father having killed them and impress upon them just how much she needed to rescue Heisenberg all in one? She couldn't. She couldn't. This was impossible.

No, Rose thought, with a strange little shudder.

Not impossible.

She reached up to her rebreather and pulled it away from her face, tossing it aside. Chris could chew her out later. Angie instantly shut up.

"Because he took care of me," Rose said. "Like he wanted to do for Claudia. But this time, he got it right. He saved me. And because I love him, and I want him back."

Her voice trembled. She stopped.

Another short breath.

"Please," she said.

Fabric rustled. Not the antique silk and lace of Angie's dress, but sweatshirt material. Donna. Rose blinked as she saw the figure in the chair rise, and turn, her feet in their gray slippers silent on the floor.

Donna stood before her. She was about Rose's height, her long black hair framing an oval face startling in its pallor, and in its beauty. One dark eye looked, levelly, back at Rose. The other was gone, the skin on the right side of Donna's face bubbled and twisted, swollen in a tumorous growth, short veiny tendrils writhing like the touch tank at an aquarium.

Rose caught a trace of a scent- bitter and floral, there and then gone again. Donna's lips twitched in what might have been a smile.

"Our little Rose," she whispered. Her voice sounded like it had rusted somewhere deep in the darkness, a spare whisper, dry as moth wings. "You lived."

"I did," Rose said.

Donna nodded. "I'm glad," she said. "I wanted to say no. To Miranda. But I was scared. Now...she's gone, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good," Donna said. "Then I can help you. First..."

She hesitated, a delicate pause, and fidgeted with a bit of lace on Angie's dress.

"Yes?" Rose said.

"Tell me the the story," Donna said. "It's been such a very long time, and so much has happened. I want to hear everything."

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Let's have something about Solitude (Malcolm Reed/OC)!

Yes! Absolutely!! I've been planning this story for like three years and started about four times all over again because I wasn't quite satisfied with how it's going.

In contrast to all the other stuff I wrote or write it's actually a story and not Oneshots/ Multishots.

Since I started several times all over again, I didn't really get far. I've finished the first draft of the prologue and the first 47 chapters are planned in keypoints but definetely not written, so I'm just gonna give some general information:

I think what describes this tsory best is the tagg "strangers-to-friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-coworkers". A lot of people are not a fan of second chance stories which I totally understand, I usually don't really like it either, but in this case, I just thought it would be fun to write. And I mean, it's my story so I can do what I want.

The protagonist of this story is Eloise 'Lou' Leroy. She is a french woman in her mid-thirties that spend her entire life studying medicine. At first she managed to learn on Vulcan but after an argument with her "guest family" (it's not the correct word, but I can't think of a better one off the spot) she goes to earth to Starfleet Academy. After graduation she participates in several exchanges to broaden her knowledge on Vulcan and Denobula, where she meets Phlox.

After returning to earth she starts working in a research facility to be near her family, however gets recommended to Archer by Phlox and dragged along to the voyage among the stars which would be a lot easier without having to constantly work with her grumpy ex that is responsible for the security of the ship.

And as if wasn't bad enough already, she got constantly some problems with some petty Vulcans, quite aggressive Andorians that are nicer to her than half of Vulcan ever had despite being their hostage twice and her best friend that is working with the Vulcan ambassador and this close to absolutely quitting everything.

It's quite OC-heavy and quite tied to the series however I might change a few things and smaller details. I try to loosen it up so I don't just repeat the episodes and I think it's working okay, but yeah.

That's the basic idea for it. It's nothing grand or new or exciting but I spend so much time thinking about it, it's basically my baby.

Header: (click for better quality)

I think this got quite good actually.

Also, in case someone is interested, a snippet from the prologue:

"Stupid arsehole." Lou sipped from her teacup before setting it down on the saucer provided. "You should consider yourself lucky Liv. Do you know how many people would fight to be allowed to work as the Vulcan ambassador's right-hand man?" "Right hand up the arse," Liv growled sullenly and reached for one of the biscuits on her plate. " More like arse on duty. I feel more like his secretary or domestic help. The other day I had to fetch him his tea and I dared to make it one degree too cold, for which he spent ten minutes telling me off in the most emotionless manner!" She sighed. "I was just hoping... I don't know. I kind of imagined Vulcans to be cooler, though."

Lou smiled into her tea and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Vulcans aren't so bad, they can even be incredibly kind, even if you don't believe me." "You're right, I don‘t." "However," Lou continued, "you have to get to know them first, really well. And that can take a long time and cost you a lot of nerves, but as someone who has spent a lot of time with them, I can tell you 'it's worth it'."

Liv scowled into her teacup, her brows furrowing with uncertainty. "I don't know if I can do this," she confessed, her voice heavy with doubt. " You'll be fine," Lou encouraged her and leaned back. "You've only been working with Soval for a week and before that you were mostly surrounded by humans, denobulans or other species that show emotions. You have to get used to what it's like when your counterparts are brutally honest and operate solely on logic." Liv seemed about to object, but at that moment Lou's console in the next room beeped, causing her to sigh. "Excuse me for a moment, Liv. Duty is calling.“ Liv grimaced in understanding and redirected her attention to the plate of biscuits in front of her. Meanwhile, in the adjacent room, Lou settled into her chair, ensuring she looked presentable before answering the call from San Francisco. A rather handsome man with a light complexion, neatly groomed brown hair, and a warm smile appeared on her screen. "Are you Doctor Eloise Leroy?" Lou smirked at the pronunciation of her name. It was clear that the man was not familiar with the French language. "That's me. With whom do I have the honour?" He smiled sheepishly and Lou felt the need to smile back. "My name is Captain Jonathan Archer and I'd like to make you an offer."

Hope you're satisfied with this answer, at least a little bit :)

[helinyetille]

Hey, it's the schnaul girly anon again 😅 I'm new to the fandom (like really new, couple of weeks 🙈) and my blog right now is something vastly different to Rammstein, that's why I choose to stay anon, so I don't mix them up. I'm actually so close to creating a new one for this new obsession, but I haven't had that final push yet 😅 I've been kinda stalking yours and and a couple of other blogs these past weeks and having the best time with all that new content, so thank you very much, haha 😁🥰 I kinda went from 0 to 100 really quick, now even writing fanfic (only for myself just yet) and getting tickets for two of their shows, I'm so excited about that omg 😁 so yeah, it's difficult to express all my feelings in this 'short' ask and I feel like I'm rambling already. Just know that you encapsulated my feelings about Schnaul perfectly in your answer. I love these casual touches here and there, with them being so comfortable around each other that they're not thinking twice about it. They're so used to it and them allowing us to see them affectionate like that, not bothered about what some people might say, I'm head over heels, I love it so much 😍😂 and about the boating... YES, they should definitely mix it up, get some new dynamics in there. Schneider's just too kind I guess 😇 and one last thing, I just found this, lost it again, spend ½hour desperately searching, thinking I'm already imaging stuff and then finally... Omg, I can't, they're adorable 🥹🥹😍 https://www.tumblr.com/abyssphilosopher/725538481293623296?source=share

Hey nonnie and thank you for reaching out again! ✨ Okay, wow, I have so many thoughts right now that I'm going to put everything under the cut as it also gets a bit personal.

First of all, I want you to know that your messages really put a smile on my face! I'm oddly flattered that you found my silly little blog worthy of stalking. I have started actively blogging here just a couple of months ago after a really long hiatus and even though I'm not new to Rammstein, I'm still kind of new to the fandom, so you and I are in the same boat (just like Paul and Schneider should be). I don't know whether you need words of encouragement to create a Rammstein blog, but I'll just say that the main reason I decided to blog again was interacting with people who share my love for this band. Sometimes I feel like a sad clown entertaining myself and myself only which is basically the reason why I made that gif with the sad clown Schneider for my header :D Sitting all alone while the party is raging, you know? So, thank you for sending an ask, and if you feel comfortable enough, you can always DM me. I'm not making any assumptions, but maybe it will help you to feel more welcome in the fandom 🌈

Secondly, I'm excited to know that you love these dorks so much ❤ It's so cool that you're going to see them live! And you have totally piqued my interest when you mentioned the fanfic, even though you are writing it just for yourself. I love fics, headcanons and, of course, thinking and talking about ships, hehe. Like, show me the prompt and my dumb ass will be instantly imagining her favourite idiots in different kinds of situations 😁

And finally, the video you have linked... OH MY GOD ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME? (pls don't stop) How fucking cute are they? How dare they be so adorable? Now I'm watching it on repeat because I'm absolutely mesmerized by the way Schneider is leaning into a kiss without stopping his drumming (well, no wonder here, baby still has to keep playing the song despite being showered with affection) 💔 Oh, and the fact that Paul is almost always the one initiating physical contact with Schneider makes me feral. When it comes to Paulchard, it feels like Richard is more often the one to initiate, but why does Paul's ass seem to be gravitating toward Schneider so much? Is Schneider really that much of a sun that he warps spacetime and pulls Paul toward himself? Yes, he is. The brightest of the stars but probably not the brightest when it comes to other things (100% affectionately) 💖

Welp, my reply turned out to be way longer than I initially planned. Sorry for rambling too much, but thank you once again for messaging me, much love to you! ❤✨

[mokuknight]

So, in my really old sketchbooks, I used to implement my old fursona as well as my Halo persona into the RvB universe as a way to escape (if you know, you know)

was thinking that now that I have a little more experience, I should try again. And yeah, I know I said like a year or two ago "I wanna make a fan RvB webcomic! :DDDD" yeahhhhh thats gonna take a while because stuff happens and though I still love the idea, I'm still not really sure on where to even start with it and its also a bit personal to me, so I wouldn't want it to sound stupid or anything... I don't know what to do... Should I? Would I have enough energy? Would it be worth it? Will my own little weak amount of skill upset me through the first quarter of the process and cause me to put a halt to the project altogether?

I don't know, maybe I just get scared too easily, but its also like when I take a short break from drawing anything, I still have some knowledge on drawing, but then I struggle SO HARD trying to get it to work with what I'm drawing, or just drawing anatomy gets extremely difficult one day, and then super easy the next, and those things will rotate through cycles that aren't always consistent.

my header on my art blog is an example of that, actually. The drawings you see in them took little effort and it was fun and I liked that I could do it so well, and then it just got worse after that..