#like we saw a lot of build-up to the first transformation

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The paradox of choice screens

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

It's official: the DOJ has won its case, and Google is a convicted monopolist. Over the next six months, we're gonna move into the "remedy" phase, where we figure out what the court is going to order Google to do to address its illegal monopoly power:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

That's just the beginning, of course. Even if the court orders some big, muscular remedies, we can expect Google to appeal (they've already said they would) and that could drag out the case for years. But that can be a feature, not a bug: a years-long appeal will see Google on its very best behavior, with massive, attendant culture changes inside the company. A Google that's fighting for its life in the appeals court isn't going to be the kind of company that promotes a guy whose strategy for increasing revenue is to make Google Search deliberately worse, so that you will have to do more searches (and see more ads) to get the info you're seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

It's hard to overstate how much good stuff can emerge from a company that's mired itself in antitrust hell with extended appeals. In 1982, IBM wriggled off the antitrust hook after a 12-year fight that completely transformed the company's approach to business. After more than a decade of being micromanaged by lawyers who wanted to be sure that the company didn't screw up its appeal and anger antitrust enforcers, IBM's executives were totally transformed. When the company made its first PC, it decided to use commodity components (meaning anyone could build a similar PC by buying the same parts), and to buy its OS from an outside vendor called Micros-Soft (meaning competing PCs could use the same OS), and it turned a blind eye to the company that cloned the PC ROM, enabling companies like Dell, Compaq and Gateway to enter the market with "PC clones" that cost less and did more than the official IBM PC:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

The big question, of course, is whether the court will order Google to break up, say, by selling off Android, its ad-tech stack, and Chrome. That's a question I'll address on another day. For today, I want to think about how to de-monopolize browsers, the key portal to the internet. The world has two extremely dominant browsers, Safari and Chrome, and each of them are owned by an operating system vendor that pre-installs their own browser on their devices and pre-selects them as the default.

Defaults matter. That's a huge part of Judge Mehta's finding in the Google case, where the court saw evidence from Google's own internal research suggesting that people rarely change defaults, meaning that whatever the gadget does out of the box it will likely do forever. This puts a lie to Google's longstanding defense of its monopoly power: "choice is just a click away." Sure, it's just a click away – a click, you're pretty sure no one is ever going to make.

This means that any remedy to Google's browser dominance is going to involve a lot of wrangling about defaults. That's not a new wrangle, either. For many years, regulators and tech companies have tinkered with "choice screens" that were nominally designed to encourage users to try out different browsers and brake the inertia of the big two browsers that came bundled with OSes.

These choice screens have a mixed record. Google's 2019 Android setup choice screen for the European Mobile Application Distribution Agreement somehow managed to result in the vast majority of users sticking with Chrome. Microsoft had a similar experience in 2010 with BrowserChoice.eu, its response to the EU's 2000s-era antitrust action:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BrowserChoice.eu

Does this mean that choice screens don't work? Maybe. The idea of choice screens comes to us from the "choice architecture" world of "nudging," a technocratic pseudoscience that grew to prominence by offering the promise that regulators could make big changes without having to do any real regulating:

https://verfassungsblog.de/nudging-after-the-replication-crisis/

Nudge research is mired in the "replication crisis" (where foundational research findings turn out to be nonreplicable, due to bad research methodology, sloppy analysis, etc) and nudge researchers keep getting caught committing academic fraud:

https://www.ft.com/content/846cc7a5-12ee-4a44-830e-11ad00f224f9

When the first nudgers were caught committing fraud, more than a decade ago, they were assumed to be outliers in an otherwise honest and exciting field:

https://www.npr.org/2016/10/01/496093672/power-poses-co-author-i-do-not-believe-the-effects-are-real

Today, it's hard to find much to salvage from the field. To the extent the field is taken seriously today, it's often due to its critics repeating the claims of its boosters, a process Lee Vinsel calls "criti-hype":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

For example, the term "dark patterns" lumps together really sneaky tactics with blunt acts of fraud. When you click an "opt out of cookies" button and get a screen that says "Success!" but which has a tiny little "confirm" button on it that you have to click to actually opt out, that's not a "dark pattern," it's just a scam:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/27/beware-of-the-leopard/#relentless

By ascribing widespread negative effects to subtle psychological manipulation ("dark patterns") rather than obvious and blatant fraud, we inadvertently elevate "nudging" to a real science, rather than a cult led by scammy fake scientists.

All this raises some empirical questions about choice screens: do they work (in the sense of getting people to break away from defaults), and if so, what's the best way to make them work?

This is an area with a pretty good literature, as it turns out, thanks in part due to some natural experiments, like when Russia forced Google to offer choice screens for Android in 2017, but didn't let Google design that screen. The Russian policy produced a significant switch away from Google's own apps to Russian versions, primarily made by Yandex:

https://cepr.org/publications/dp17779

In 2023, Mozilla Research published a detailed study in which 12,000 people from Germany, Spain and Poland set up simulated mobile and desktop devices with different kinds of choice screens, a project spurred on by the EU's Digital Markets Act, which is going to mandate choice screens starting this year:

https://research.mozilla.org/browser-competition/choicescreen/

I'm spending this week reviewing choice screen literature, and I've just read the Mozilla paper, which I found very interesting, albeit limited. The biggest limitation is that the researchers are getting users to simulate setting up a new device and then asking them how satisfied they are with the experience. That's certainly a question worth researching, but a far more important question is "How do users feel about the setup choices they made later, after living with them on the devices they use every day?" Unfortunately, that's a much more expensive and difficult question to answer, and beyond the scope of this paper.

With that limitation in mind, I'm going to break down the paper's findings here and draw some conclusions about what we should be looking for in any kind of choice screen remedy that comes out of the DOJ antitrust victory over Google.

The first thing note is that people report liking choice screens. When users get to choose their browsers, they expect to be happy with that choice; by contrast, users are skeptical that they'll like the default browser the vendor chose for them. Users don't consider choice screens to be burdensome, and adding a choice screen doesn't appreciably increase setup time.

There are some nuances to this. Users like choice screens during device setup but they don't like choice screens that pop up the first time they use a browser. That makes total sense: "choosing a browser" is colorably part of the "setting up your gadget" task. By contrast, the first time you open a browser on a new device, it's probably to get something else done (e.g. look up how to install a piece of software you used on your old device) and being interrupted with a choice screen at that moment is an unwelcome interruption. This is the psychology behind those obnoxious cookie-consent pop-ups that website bombard you with when you first visit them: you've clicked to that website because you need something it has, and being stuck with a privacy opt-out screen at that moment is predictably frustrating (which is why companies do it, and also why the DMA is going to punish companies that do).

The researchers experimented with different kinds of choice screens, varying the number of browsers on offer and the amount of information given on each. Again, users report that they prefer more choices and more information, and indeed, more choice and more info is correlated with choosing indie, non-default browsers, but this effect size is small (<10%), and no matter what kind of choice screen users get, most of them come away from the experience without absorbing any knowledge about indie browsers.

The order in which browsers are presented has a much larger effect than how many browsers or how much detail is present. People say they want lots of choices, but they usually choose one of the first four options. That said, users who get choice screens say it changes which browser they'd choose as a default.

Some of these contradictions appear to stem from users' fuzziness on what "default browser" means. For an OS vendor, "default browser" is the browser that pops up when you click a link in an email or social media. For most users, "default browser" means "the browser pinned to my home screen."

Where does all this leave us? I think it cashes out to this: choice screens will probably make a appreciable, but not massive, difference in browser dominance. They're cheap to implement, have no major downsides, and are easy to monitor. Choice screens might be needed to address Chrome's dominance even if the court orders Google to break off Chrome and stand it up as a separate business (we don't want any browser monopolies, even if they're not owned by a search monopolist!). So yeah, we should probably make a lot of noise to the effect that the court should order a choice screen, as part of a remedy.

That choice screen should be presented during device setup, with the choices presented in random order – with this caveat: Chrome should never appear in the top four choices.

All of that would help address the browser duopoly, even if it doesn't solve it. I would love to see more market-share for Firefox, which is the browser I've used every day for more than a decade, on my laptop and my phone. Of course, Mozilla has a role to play here. The company says it's going to refocus on browser quality, at the expense of the various side-hustles it's tried, which have ranged from uninteresting to catastrophically flawed:

https://www.fastcompany.com/91167564/mozilla-wants-you-to-love-firefox-again

For example, there was the tool to automatically remove your information from scummy data brokers, that they outsourced to a scummy data-broker:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/22/24109116/mozilla-ends-onerep-data-removal-partnership

And there's the "Privacy Preserving Attribution" tracking system that helps advertisers target you with surveillance advertising (in a way that's less invasive than existing techniques). Mozilla rolled this into Firefox on an opt out basis, and made opting out absurdly complicated, suggesting that it knew that it was imposing something on its users that they wouldn't freely choose:

https://blog.privacyguides.org/2024/07/14/mozilla-disappoints-us-yet-again-2/

They've been committing these kinds of unforced errors for more than a decade, seeking some kind of balance between monopolistic web companies and its users' desire to have a browser that protects them from invasive and unfair practices:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2014/may/14/firefox-closed-source-drm-video-browser-cory-doctorow

These compromises represent the fallacy that Mozilla's future depends on keeping bullying entertainment companies and Big Tech happy, so it can go on serving its users. At the same time, these compromises have alienated Mozilla's core users, the technical people who were its fiercest evangelists. Those core users are the authority on technical questions for the normies in their life, and they know exactly how cursed it is for Moz to be making these awful compromises.

Moz has hemorrhaged users over the past decade, meaning they have even less leverage over the corporations demanding that they make more compromises. This sets up a doom loop: make a bad compromise, lose users, become more vulnerable to demands for even worse compromises. "This capitulation puts us in a great position to make a stand in some hypothetical future where we don't instantly capitulate again" is a pretty unconvincing proposition.

After the past decade's heartbreaks, seeing Moz under new leadership makes me cautiously hopeful. Like I say, I am dependent on Firefox and want an independent, principled browser vendor that sees their role as producing a "user agent" that is faithful to its users' interests above all else:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

Of course, Moz depends on Google's payment for default search placement for 90% of its revenue. If Google can't pay for this in the future, the org is going to have to find another source of revenue. Perhaps that will be the EU, or foundations, or users. In any of these cases, the org will find it much easier to raise funds if it is standing up for its users – not compromising on their interests.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/12/defaults-matter/#make-up-your-mind-already

Image: ICMA Photos (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/icma/3635981474/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[sweetlady555]

My Personal Solar Return Observations Pt III

reminder to check your degrees in your sr chart as they play a big factor in how certain sr placements would play out!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Venus 5H 17° SR - when i had this in my sr chart for 2023-2024 i saw myself experimenting more with different creative styles/looks. i would try to find inspiration from different creatives on instagram. while i was doing this, i started talking to a well known designer in that creative scene who had messaged me because he liked my style. it was a secret relationship because he cheated on someone to be with me which i thought they were completely done but he kept going back to her then back to me. he was obsessed with me and it was a really weird relationship, he would only come to me when his lustful desires were acting up and then would go when he was satisfied 💀. i was tired of this so i started talking to someone else and he found and his little ego got so hurt and he blocked me thank fucking god 😭😭!! I was also approached by another creative because he wanted to use my face as inspiration for his clothing brand hehe ( the 17° rules leo & fame )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Aries Rising 2° SR - when i had this i felt like i was really impulsive i did lots of things without thinking twice. i had my chart ruler in the 5h that year so it might be different if you end up having your asc ruler somewhere else in your sr chart, but for me i was impulsive when it came to switching different styles. i also started drinking and partying for the first time when i had a aries rising in my sr when it was placed in my 5h. aside from this, i was very determined on finishing goals i set my mind to and i was very consistent in trying to build a good foundation for myself. ( the 2° rules taurus & early stages )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Moon 7H 4° SR - most of my relationships that i had that year were lowkey codependent, the guys i talked to that year were very emotionally dependent and attached to me. they would usually call or message me out of nowhere to vent or open up to me which would be random asf lmaoo ( the 4° rules cancer & security/protection )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Mercury 3H 28° SR - I started talking to my siblings more and my relationship grew closer with them. I also started becoming more vunerable with my siblings. My relationship with my siblings were more nurturing compared to the past. ( the 28° rules cancer & heightened sensitivity/vulnerability )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Mars 5H 21° SR - I went out a lot more when i had this in my sr chart with my sisters friends who would randomly go out just for the fun of it 😭, like it was last minute most of the times but it was so fun tho! i got to do lots of things on the trips we went to! I was also more open to expressing my creativity like making clothes and putting it out there and such. ( the 21° rules saggitarius & travel/freedom )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Jupiter 1H 8° SR - I was more optimistic about life when I had this placement in my sr chart. I also felt like I was really lucky when it came to travelling more. places ive wanted to go to forever i ended up going to! things i wanted to experience i experienced! it was a good year for experiencing new things. ( the 8° rules scorpio & transformations )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Uranus 2H 21° SR - yeah i dont know where my money went that year 💀 money would come fast and then it would go even faster 😭 i saw my money as a source of freedom and thought of money so recklessly like, “oh these shoes are $300 but i just got fired? dont worry the money will come back *BOUGHT🧾*” so i didnt care much about saving or anything 😭 it came back though!! but then it went bye bye the next day😍 also for some weird reason whenever i took money out from daily pay which is a app where you can take money out early from your check when you work, whenever i took it out it ended up saying i had to pay back the amount i took out? like uhhh im pretty sure this was my money i took out 😂🤔… so now im -$200 but they gotta catch me in person cuz im not paying that 😹 ( the 21° degree rules saggitarius and freedom )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Pluto 11H 29° SR - i ended two 5+ year friendship that year, it was hard but it was a trio and i found out that the both of them would ditch me to go hangout and do substances and i feel like that didnt align with my path because you are who you hangout with!! i also saw my goals/path changing that year, I completely re-evaluated what i wanted to do 🙏. ( the 29° is a anaretic degree that rules major transformations/completion/endings )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Chiron 1H 19° SR - I was VERY critical on how others percieved me and my self image, i had multiple identity crises. I was super insecure the year I had this in my sr chart i cant even lie, despite so many people telling me how beautiful I was I just couldnt see it. 2 months before my birthday in 2024 i ended up understanding who i was and finding out what I LIKE and not what other people expected of me. im not facing multiple identity crises anymore which i thank my nn in my 1h from that year 🙏. ( 19° rules libra & can make a person more erratic and critical )

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 1H SR in 5H SR - I was more open to showcasing my creative talents, designing clothes, starting lots of creative projects. I was also having sooo much fun that year i miss it so much but lemme stop reminiscing 💔 I was also more flirty and playful that year leading me to have a few romantic encounters this year. Lots of creativity, fun, and sexual encounters happened that year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 2H SR in 5H SR - I spent most of my money on clothes and on creative projects just things that made me happy!!!! I was also recieving money from a lot of guys who wanted sexual things from me but they got #finessed and i didnt care because who do you think i am???????

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 3H SR in 3H SR - when i had this i started getting into astrology more, i was also reading a lot more aswell. I was really curious and i needed lots of mental stimulation from something that was neverending and astrology just so happened to be it 😹. I was also making tons of short trips that year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 4H SR in 7H SR - my family life was lowkey stopping me from getting into any relationships, i came to the realization i wouldnt be able to get into any relationships while living with my parents because of how controlling they can be. Also my sister got into a new relationship that sr year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 5H SR in 7H SR - I started talking to a creative designer the year I had my 5h in my 7h. I was also getting involved with creative partnerships aswell, promoting eye contacts/lashes/having my face used for someones brand. I also attended more parties and was going out more so i found most of my relationship encounters were through that.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 6H SR in 4H SR - i changed my diet when i had this in my sr. I also didnt know how to balance my work life and home life so it clashed terribly and i got fired😭. I was also going out more with my sister so my routines have changed from never going out at all to going out every week.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 7H SR in 5H SR - I met lots of new friends and different social circles through fun plans like partying, girls trips etc.. I also had lots of fun romantic encounters when i had this in my sr whether i met them when i was drunk or at parties it was lots of fun lol. There was so much childlike joy when it came to my relationships that sr year.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 8H SR in 5H SR - i lost my virginity the year i had this in my sr😶 but besides that my relationships in that sr year really shaped my understanding of love and myself. i was also recieving money from relationships i felt like a sugar baby🙈

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 9H SR in 1H SR - BABY I WAS OUTSIDEEE😭😩 okay besides that, that sr year when i had this i experienced a lot of new things that helped me discover who i was on the inside 😊. I was focused on self growth especially that year!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 10H SR in 12H SR - I thought a lot about what I wanted to do career wise and how it would align with my goals and my purpose . I had this in my sr when I got fired 😭 and i realized I would prefer being my own boss when it came to my work life

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 11H SR in 12H SR - I unfriended my closest friends after re-evaluating our friendships that year. I also found out shady shit about them and I didn’t like that which led me to unfriending them

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 12H SR in 2H SR - i was manifesting money a lot the year i had this and im not even gonna lie it was coming!! so if you have this in your sr this year, manifest that moola$$$!!!!! i was also receiving money behind the scenes from other people the year i had this in my sr chart .

if my sr chart for that solar return year was a song it would be definitely be this song 🥲 #willforevercherishthatyear

dont forget to check out my other personal sr observations if you enjoyed this one :) !

[minervas-hand]

Right to fear, wrong to believe

Just had a horrible realization and needed to meta it out.

How different they were before Edinburgh, when Crowley was sucked down into Hell.

Look at this flirty babygirl in the Bastille:

I mean could he climb that tree any faster?

(This is why I really like fics that place a more physical relationship here, pre-Bastille or just post-Bastille, because c'mon look at them. )

In S1 the next thing is 1862 and Crowley asking for insurance (with a cane ffs). And Aziraphale freaking out with his "fraternizing" BS. It's jarring, until we get 1827 filled in for us in S2.

@takeme-totheworld notes in this post:

Crowley sure went from "our respective head offices don't actually care how things get done" and "nobody ever has to know" to "walls have ears" FAST after Edinburgh. And Aziraphale went from looking at Crowley with hearts in his eyes to "I've been FrAtErNiZiNg" just as quickly. I'm more convinced than ever that Edinburgh was the first time Crowley ever actually got caught and punished for fucking around with Aziraphale/doing good deeds/whatever it was they yanked him back down to Hell for, and it scared the absolute shit out of both of them and changed the whole tone of their relationship after that.

Yes! - it's clear to me as well that the Edinburgh graveyard was a very bad turning point, where they both saw that Hell was listening and would intervene. And it did change their relationship drastically, for over a century and a half (really, until looming Armageddon loosened up the stakes for them).

But what about Heaven?

See the thing is, we know Azi's been worried about Heaven watching him for the past 6000 years.

But they haven't.

[GIFs posted by starrose17]

All this time, and Heaven had not seen them together. Hadn't noticed. Had not even LOOKED.

I want to mention what @starrose17 says about this here in this post:

What I love about this is her choice of words, “went back through the Earth Observation files.” This implies that these photos were already filed somewhere meaning somebody had to have been watching them which meant somewhere in the depths of the bureaucratic heaven there’s an underpaid angel clerk tasked with watching angels on Earth, and he’s been hording photos of his favourite Angel/Demon couple not reporting them to Michael because he wants to see what happens.

And that's exactly what this fic covers!: Spying Omens by @ednav

(Give this a read, it's fabulous.)

While I am here for this being exactly how that happens, the other scenario is colder and worse - there's no one watching, at all. It's just filing automatically and never seen until some Scrivener is called to pull a file.

From @fuckyeahisawthatat's comment here :

I found this scene to be quite chilling, actually. Not only is the idea of Heaven as a surveillance state brilliant (way to make “God is always watching” sound way more ominous) but this is exactly how modern surveillance states work. They don’t actively watch everybody all the time. That’s not physically possible for humans, and even if it is metaphysically possible for Heaven, it’s not a very efficient use of resources. Surveillance states watch people they deem “suspicious.” And once you’ve been put in the category of “suspicious,” they have massive amounts of data that they can comb through to collect a lot of information about you–to retroactively build a case justifying why you’re suspicious, to collect information about where you go and who you associate with, etc.

Yes.

So we either have secret collusion in the rank and file, or we have a surveillance state that is constantly reinforced to its subjects for fear's sake, for control.

(Well, it obviously could be both.)

BUT my point is… Up until Edinburgh, Hell has not been watching (or caring at least). And up until near the end of Armageddon't, neither has Heaven.

Oh, my poor Angel. Thousands of years, of denying yourself, of pushing Crowley away, of carrying around a tension that is it's own constellation.

After 1827 you might have reason, but for the 5000+ years before that?

Thousands of years and Heaven was not watching nor cared.

You were right to fear. And you were wrong to believe.

And that just breaks my heart.

[panlight]

The first Twilight book ending with so much genuinely intriguing information about Alice that is immediately ignored is so crazy to me that it’s honestly funny.

The other vampires don’t necessarily remember their human lives well compared to their vampire ones but they do clearly have a lot of memories that inform who they are as people. And then we find out that Alice remembers almost nothing about being human and is the only vampire we meet who basically had her entire personality be created from only her vampire life. And the idea of who someone would be if they had only ever been a super powered future seeing non human is interesting, and it would have been especially interesting to see how it makes her act different from the others and perceive the world differently because she wouldn’t in any way identify with humanity or being human and any human experiences.

And then she just is exactly like everyone else and no it didn’t actually affect a single thing about her personality. And the fact that as both a human and vampire she has never experienced time in a linear fashion is way less impactful on her character than one would think beyond that she used future sight as a helpful tool.

Smeyer is so wild for creating genuinely really cool character and world building ideas and then immediately ignoring them and not considering that they would in any way correlate to how that character acts

Oh for sure! There are so many fascinating little character details that just . . . don't . . . go . . . anywhere. Really Alice waking up as a vampire with no memory of anything else is SO interesting and could be such a contrast to the others, but it's only sort of hinted at and doesn't end up really mattering at all. There's Edward's line about how if she hadn't had her ability to see the future and saw Jasper and Carlisle and where her life would end up, she'd probably have turned out to be a feral monster or something and how no one could understand how she could be abandoned like that. SM pays lips service to the idea that Alice doesn't remember being human but she mostly uses that to like, push her into being obsessed with human rites of passage for Bella that she can sort of live vicariously through rather than a deeper, more meaningful exploration of what it would be like to be in Alice's shoes.

Genuinely, I'm fascinated by every single one of the Cullens' stories as newborns except Bella's, because it's just the most boring one. She doesn't give up or lose anything, she doesn't wake up to a world she didn't know existed. She's about as well-informed as a human could be and she wants to be a vampire and is instantly good at it so it's all just so . . . blah. Alice waking up with no memory and superpowers and insatiable thirst is about 1000 times more interesting. Just imagine how disorientating and confusing and frightening that would be! Carlisle lived out his own horror movie as a newborn, being bitten on a vampire hunting raid gone wrong, hiding during his transformation out of fear his father would burn him alive, realizing what he had become and trying to destroy himself before he hurt anyone ending with him starving himself in the woods for months. Jasper, too, had a whole horror movie where he was the nightmarish monster, to humans as well as other vampires. And the other Cullens died and 'woke' up to a new life they had no idea about and had to lean on strangers they either barely knew or didn't know at all. That's the interesting stuff. That's what I like about vampire stories. But these experiences barely matter to how they act in the present day. Jasper's poor self control matters in some scenes and doesn't matter at all in others. Rosalie's baby obsession is a big feature of Breaking Dawn, but Esme, who actually had and lost a baby, might as well be wallpaper in that book. Edward's going on about how could he ever love this thing if it kills Bella, meanwhile Carlisle's mother literally DID die giving birth to him and it never enters the conversation.

And for SM, Alice's whole "doesn't remember being human" ends up being focused entirely on like, shopping and parties and clothes, so she can live vicariously through Bella. And on one hand there's something interesting in there, something pathetic (in the pathos sense) with Alice trying to understand humanity in this sort of superficial way because she doesn't have the experience or memories to go any deeper, but it's mostly portrayed as just wheee isn't Alice fun! I wish I had a sister/best friend like Alice! It's just blatantly obvious that it's less about who Alice is than what she can do for Bella.

Even in New Moon where we find out that Alice has been researching her own history, found her own grave and asylum admission papers, and it goes nowhere! It doesn't change how Alice behaves at all, it doesn't change her relationship with Bella, Bella just kind of goes "huh interesting" and we never hear about it again. I mean Alice goes through it in these books and you wouldn't even know! She finds out that James had hunted her when she was human and this other vampire turned her to save her and died defending her. She finds out she was put in an asylum by her father and he told everyone she was dead. And even though she's the 4th most prominent character after Bella, Edward and Jacob, there's still no room in the Bella-centric narrative for Alice to have the space to actually deal with any of this. She's too busy fulfilling her role as Bella's fairy godmother sister.

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (13) - Here comes the Thunder

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

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Word count: 3.6k

-Storms are comin', better run for cover. Here comes, here comes the thunder-

Tyler Galpin was the monster, the Hyde, the one who murdered Rowan and hurt Eugene. You were pissed, but you were nowhere near as pissed as Wednesday.

“I should have known it. His wounds weren’t nearly as serious as they should have been, I thought he got lucky, but he wounded himself,” she began pacing back and forth, the two of you still in front of the hospital.

“We need to go,” you told her, as subtly as you could pointing toward the hospital where Weems and the sheriff were coming out. “We can’t trust either of them now. H won’t turn his own son in and Weems…” you weren’t ready to say it just yet.

“Has been obstructing us since the start,” Wednesday said it for you as the two of you began walking away. You’d head straight for Nevermore, there wasn’t anywhere else you could go to, really.

“Right, let’s see, we know Hyde lays dormant, so there should be some genetics involved there. Galpin senior is a normie, but do we know anything about Tyler’s mom?” you asked, it was very rare for someone to just randomly develop an ability. It happened, but usually not with the kinds of abilities that involved transforming or shifting.

Wednesday shook her head. “No, and you’re not going to the archive to check,” ah, so she was still worried about what happened to you when you went to mayor’s office building.

“Maybe sneak into his house? See if we can find any medical records? Any history with Nevermore?” you gave in, it was adorable how protective she was.

“We can send Thing,” before you could even raise the question of his health she beat you to it. “He’s fine now,” she assured you.

“Okay, we got a plan then,” you nodded. Thing really was your best option here, even if you wished he could rest for at least a while longer. “Why would he turn on Laurel though?” you wondered.

“I’m not sure, I’m confident Kinbott is Laurel,” she slowed down a bit, as if something caught her attention at that very moment. “No, it’s not Kinbott,” Wednesday completely stopped.

You stopped as well, though a few steps ahead of her, and raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to continue.

“I thought it was her because of the flowers she left in Eugene’s room, they were the same flowers Enid and I saw in Laurel’s room, but the photos someone took of me mean that someone would have to be at Nevermore,” Wednesday explained, and you could see the frustration on her face at both her guesses being wrong.

“And since Tyler is the Hyde, the master has to be at Nevermore,” you groaned in frustration, you had no idea who it could be. “Unless it’s someone else, like the one that attacked me,” why was this so complicated?

“I don’t think it’s that one. The raijin, I mean,” Wednesday said and you halted completed.

“Raijin? The raijin? Japanese ‘lightning god’ raijin?” Wednesday just nodded at that. Well, that explained a lot of things, the pressure you felt, the difference in your level, the overwhelming presence. You weren’t dealing with a beast, you were dealing with a damn god of lightning. “Well, we better hope that guy doesn’t show up, because all that talk about not dying goes out the window in that case,” you just said it. There was absolutely nothing you could do, even if you shifted you felt like you’d be powerless against raijin.

“I know, I saw a vision of Diego, the raiju Goody had a bond with, fighting him. You can’t fight him,” you could hear the hints of panic in her voice. Wednesday knew, even better than you did, from the looks of it, just how strong the raijin was. And it pretty much confirmed you were attacked by someone who’s been alive for centuries.

You closed the distance between you two and took hold of her hand. When she squeezed your hand in return you leaned down, resting your forehead against her left shoulder. “I’m not going to let you deal with this alone, if that’s what you were going to suggest,” you could hear the sharp, though barely audible, gasp. “I’m on your side no matter what,” you let red sparks surround the two of you, completely safe for Wednesday. And in the midst of all that she raised her other arm and placed it on your back, her fingers digging into your back through your shirt.

“Don’t die for me,” she whispered, so softly you almost wondered if you heard it right.

You told her you wouldn’t die, but given the situation, it seemed more like wishful thinking than anything else now. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” you couldn’t say anything else, you could just hope it wouldn’t get to that point.

And if it did… Well, there was no point in thinking about that right now.

You had no idea how long the two of you stayed like that, in the middle of the road between Nevermore and Jericho, not caring one bit about who could see you. You both just committed the moment to your memories, cherishing the feelings you weren’t quite ready to talk about just yet, but you were feeling them nonetheless, perhaps even more intensely than you would if you were to put them into words.

It wasn’t a generational bond. This ran deeper, this was entirely personal, and it brought out a side of each of you that you didn’t even realize existed. The more emotional side of Wednesday, and a side of you that wasn’t afraid of your lightning hurting someone.

~X~

For whatever reason you chose to stay in the quad, saying something about giving Wednesday some space. Considering how emotional she got less than half an hour ago she was more than willing to accept that. When she came into her room, she realized exactly why you gave her space.

Wednesday stopped when she saw Enid there, unpacking and it somehow made a heavy weight she was feeling since Enid left disappear. She could admit that she preferred to stick to certain habits, and you and Enid living with her became a part of her daily routine, so to have Enid back, from the looks of it, made her feel like things were going back to how they should be.

“Hey,” Enid greeted her.

“You’re back,” Wednesday wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I’m gone for a few days, the place gets trashed, and Thing almost dies. Someone’s gotta look out for you two and Y/N can’t do it alone,” Enid stopped unpacking and walked around her bed to get closer to Wednesday.

Like getting emotional with you wasn’t already enough. Wednesday could feel emotions clawing their way out of her body against her will, so she changed the subject. “What happened to rooming with Yoko?”

“Yoko’s great. I just decided I needed a few more boundaries,” Enid was already pulling the tape out.

Wednesday looked away. “Skip the tape.”

“Don’t tell me Wednesday Addams is mellowing out,” Enid dared to tease her.

“Never. More like evolving,” she retorted right away, once again meeting Enid’s eyes.

“Well, one inch of duct tape at a time,” the pastel werewolf smiled, not as brightly, but just as genuinely as Wednesday was used to seeing.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Because we work. We shouldn’t, but we do. It’s like some sort of weird friendship anomaly. Everything you said about me is true, but I don’t apologize for it, not anymore. It’s just who I am,” Enid told her, confident and relaxed.

“Thing said he missed you,” it was true, it was also the way to express a part of what she felt without saying it entirely.

“I missed him too,” Enid replied and Wednesday could feel the unspoken words.

“I,” she paused, cursing herself for how soft she had gotten since coming here, how soft Enid and especially you made her. “missed you too.”

Enid remained too stunned to respond and Wednesday took that opportunity to step away from the conversation.

~X~

The plan was set in motion. Enid, who came back and had a much-needed conversation with Wednesday, that you chose to give them privacy for, would make sure to cover your and Wednesday’s absence from your room. Bianca would use her siren song on Tyler, Xavier would offer his shed as the place to bring Tyler to, and Ajax, Yoko, Divina and Kent would be the back-up.

Of course, if anything went horribly wrong you’d be the first line of defense and the one who’d fight the Hyde, even if Wednesday wasn’t too thrilled about that part of the plan.

You watched as Bianca put Tyler to sleep. This was the extent of her siren song. It wouldn’t be helpful for the interrogation; she couldn’t make someone tell the truth. That was the issue with her ability, she could make someone believe something, but in doing so she influenced them. Meaning that she’d influence Tyler into believing he was the Hyde instead of pulling the truth out of him. You stood at the back of Xavier’s shed, behind Tyler, and far enough that he couldn’t realize you were there. If he thought he could fight his way out of this he was sorely mistaken.

Yet, as Bianca woke him up, he immediately put on an act, pretending he was confused and afraid as Wednesday tased him.

The yells of disapproval from everyone else annoyed you. Tyler killed people, he did it in a brutal, painful way, he felt them die. Getting tased was the good outcome for him. But one by one, the Nightshades left Xavier’s shed, with Bianca trying to get Wednesday to go to Weems.

“Wait, wait please! Don’t leave me here with her, I’m begging you!” Tyler cried and whined, knowing that Wednesday wouldn’t stop. But, Bianca left, just like everyone else, leaving only you, Wednesday and tied up Tyler in the shed.

“Wednesday, please! I’m not the monster! And even if I was you’re alone now!” he tried, he bargained, he wasn’t aware of the full circumstances he was in.

“Not quite. Trust me, I’m more than enough to handle you,” you spoke and he froze as he realized you were there as well. “You didn’t think I’d leave her here alone with you, did you Galpin?” you came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, zapping him lightly, not any harder than Wednesday’s taser, but he definitely felt it. “Talk,” you demanded.

“I have nothing to say! I’m innocent!” he cried out.

“We know you’re not,” Wednesday stood next to you. “What is Laurel Gates using you for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you had to give it to him, he was good at hiding who he really was. You were almost tempted to believe him.

“Tyler, the body parts in the basement of the Gates mansion, what are they for?” she wasn’t giving up.

“Wednesday, please,” but he just kept begging, like a broken record.

“Who is Laurel Gates, Galpin? Come on now, either transform or talk, but don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” your eyes turned red and you released a strong burst of lightning around you, though you wouldn’t hit him with it unless he fought back he didn’t know that.

But he just kept whining, crying and begging for mercy and it wasn’t his crying that got you to pull Wednesday back. It was much simpler than that. “He’s not going to talk,” and you could see it in Wednesday’s eyes that she figured it out as well.

Not that it mattered, even considering the fact that Tyler was no longer tased or tortured in any other way, the police, let by Tyler’s father, came in and prevented any chance of Tyler talking.

You were ready to be taken away, but the police ignored you, courtesy of Weems trading in the information of Tyler’s abduction and location for your freedom. You glared at the woman as the police took Wednesday away. She wanted to avoid you attacking someone at the station, she could see the way you felt about Wednesday, and she wasn’t risking those feelings causing you to shift.

~X~

Wednesday was seething. Tyler was getting away with it and now he was gloating. Telling her about his victims, how their fear was delicious. And then, as if to make sure she completely understood the situation she was in, he leaned toward her, pulling her closer by the collar of her jacket.

“You have no idea what’s coming. And your raiju? That beast that you like? I’ll make sure to bring you her head,” he promised to hurt you, he promised to kill you and bring remains to Wednesday and the rage within her reached a boiling point as she seethed while staring at his retreating back. It was as if he really was innocent, that’s how he was behaving and Wednesday pushed the doors open and briskly walked outside. She needed to get away from him, otherwise she’d make her situation even worse than it already was.

When she stepped outside the police station she saw you sitting on the stairs, clearly you zapped from Nevermore to the station and Wednesday couldn’t help but feel her heart hammering nails against her chest.

You heard her coming out and got up right away. You looked concerned, worried about Wednesday and she just took a deep breath. Her time at Nevermore was more than likely over.

~X~

“Expelled?! You expelled her?!” you yelled, lightning bursting all around you and damaging Weems’ table where you were gripping it.

“Calm down Y/N. That’s the quid pro quo for sheriff Galpin not pressing kidnapping charges,” she explained, only fueling your rage even further.

“So, expel me too! I was just as involved!” why was Wednesday expelled why you got to stay?

Weems stood up, anger radiating from her in a way you never saw up until that point. And it was somehow fitting for her.

“You know as well as I do that I can’t expel you. Setting a raiju free would only tarnish Nevermore’s reputation,” she said it in a tone so low you nearly stopped glaring at her. Weems was imposing, but she was never intimidating like right now.

You didn’t back away though. “We’ll see how long you can stick to that,” you promised and blasted the doors open with your lightning.

~X~

Weems wasn’t the only one you were going to confront, but before you could deal with Tyler the only remaining way you could think off, Bianca and her Nightshades came up to you.

“I’m sorry we got Wednesday expelled, it wasn’t our intention,” you would let it go, you wouldn’t react to her words. “We just couldn’t let you torture him,” you couldn’t walk away from that. You turned around and walked up to Bianca.

“Bullshit! He murdered people!” you exclaimed, your anger making your eyes turn red and subsequently making Bianca and others step back.

“You and Wednesday tortured him!” Bianca snapped back, always the boldest of them all.

“And any one of us would have gone through much worse if we were the monster,” you reminded her that was how it worked, how it was for the outcasts.

“Y/N,” Wednesday calling your name calmed you down and your eyes went back to normal, her voice, her arrival put a stop to the argument you had with the Nightshades.

You turned around and saw her coming down the stairs. She really was leaving. “Wednesday,” you clenched your fist, feeling powerless to do anything about this.

“This isn’t over, I need you to stay alive, don’t pick unnecessary fights,” she stopped right in front of you, almost as if she was going to take hold of your hand, but changed her mind at the last moment.

You nodded. “I got this, and I’ll stay in touch with you, I promise,” you told her, which prompted her to slip a piece of paper into your hand.

“My address, if you send letters, or if you want to visit,” she said and you nodded once again, grasping her hand before she could pull it away.

“Be careful, especially until you get out of this town,” you rubbed circles into the back of her hand, much like you did the night Thing was stabbed.

Wednesday nodded, only pulling away from you when Bianca chose to speak up, to apologize for getting her expelled.

~X~

It’s only been hours since Wednesday left and you still weren’t willing to fully accept it.

It was the irony at its best. Because here you were, doing the exact thing Wednesday did when you left the room. You were laying on her bed, just staring at the ceiling. You should have been expelled as well, you should have went with her, you shouldn’t have just accepted her leaving. Now you were stuck in the remnants of her presence. Her scent, her half of the window and her part of the room, void of any color. If you concentrated enough you could almost hear her cello, you could hear Thing’s insistent tapping.

You could feel him jumping on your shoulder and pulling your collar.

Wait? What?

You sat up so abruptly Thing nearly tumbled off the bed. “Thing? What happened?” him being here wasn’t a good sign, no matter how nice it was to see him.

He began frantically signing and you tried to understand him, but you couldn’t follow.

“Wed-Wednesday is- Wednesday is what?!” you were getting frustrated, and so was Thing, as he began signing even faster, fumbling over words and making it impossible for you to figure it out. “Slow down! It’s terrible when you stutter!”

He gave up on signing and jumped down, running to your table. You followed him as he grabbed a pen and tried to write, but he didn’t have a piece of paper. Frustrated, he began tapping the morse code with the pen.

“Wednesday is in danger!” your eyes widened when you finally understood what he was saying. “Tyler and Thornhill took her! To Crackstone’s crypt!” you grabbed your phone as Thing slumped down onto the table, relieved that you got the message. You immediately called Enid, not caring one bit that she was with Ajax.

“Damn it, Enid, pick up!” but she wasn’t picking up as you took the knives you would hopefully stab deep into Tyler and Thornhill, Laurel, whatever her name was. You quickly called Ajax instead and nearly began yelling when he picked up. “Put Enid on the phone, now,” you demanded.

“She’s talking to Eugene,” he tried to tell you.

“Now Ajax!” you didn’t have time for this.

“Okay, okay, you’re on speaker!” you heard him telling Enid it was you.

“Y/N? Eugene told me Thornhill is Laurel!” Enid exclaimed.

“I know, she took Wednesday! I’ll take Thing to Poe’s statue, he’ll explain about Nightshades, take Ajax with you, bye!” you hung up before Enid could say anything and grabbed Thin as you ran and, much like a few nights ago, jumped off the balcony. Only this time you didn’t need to catch anyone, you just held Thing close to you and slowed down your fall enough to land without any injuries.

“I’ll go and get her, I promise,” you assured him as you ran toward the statue.

Thing just tapped that he knew against your palm.

You left him at the statue and threw your knife, zapping toward the crypt. The lake? It didn’t matter. You threw your knife right across it, zapping and catching it and throwing it again, not once looking at the water beneath you. It didn’t matter, the danger, the fear of water, all you knew was that Wednesday was stuck with a revenge driven lunatic and her pet monster that enjoyed slaughtering people.

~X~

The one person that ever made Wednesday feel fear stood in front of her, revived because of her blood and Laurel’s ritual. And he even thought she was Goody. Not that it mattered, he had used his telekinesis to keep her from moving.

Hypocrite, using outcast abilities while trying to wipe them out.

“Goody Addams, you will suffer the same fate you bequeathed me!” he promised as he approached her.

Wednesday glared at him as she tried to break free, but it was even stronger than Rowan’s telekinesis. She couldn’t do anything. She was powerless as he pulled out a knife. The flames flickered, and the glint of the blade made her more than aware of how this would end. She was alone, and she had no way to defend herself.

Doors burst open behind her and the moment of surprise cost Crackstone his chance to stab Wednesday, a knife passed right by Wednesday and she felt arms wrapping around her waist as she was pulled to the side and away from the resurrected man.

“Raiju, I see you found a new one, Goody Addams,” Crackstone growled as he recognized the ability you had.

“Hands off my Addams,” you… just had to… Didn’t you? Even if the threatening tone of your voice made Wednesday a bit more forgiving of what you said.

A/N: Raiju to the rescue! No mortal wounds for Wednesday, yet. Honestly, I feel like the middle of the chapter is a bit bare, so I might go back and add some more scenes, but as it is, I’m okay with this. Do tell me what you think about the chapter. Is the middle bare, or is it enough given the fact that I’m writing slightly altered canon and you could just go and watch the show instead of reading about it.

[anna-hawk]

L'étranger

Frank Castle x f!Reader

Summary: You decide to hit a bar after one hell of a day at work and meet a man who's willing to listen to you rant away. As the chemistry seems to build between you, you choose to be bold and ask him to come home with you. He doesn't give you what you want, but ends up giving you what you need.

Rating: Explicit 🔞 // WC: 5,9k

CW: PWP, sex as stress relief, bj, finger fucking, soft and emotional sex, first meetings

A/N: this is based on my current work life. I just wish I could meet Frank that way too 😅. Also, the title means "The Stranger" in French.

Read it on AO3

Stumbling through the doors of the first decent bar you found after leaving your job, you made a beeline for the counter, desperately needing a glass of wine or beer. Or whatever. You weren’t picky tonight. You threw yourself onto a free bar stool, slapped your purse onto the counter with a resounding smack, and uttered a large and miserable half sigh, half groan. 

“Sounds like someone had a day, huh?”

You tiredly glanced to the side and caught the sight of the man the voice belonged to. Absently, you thought to yourself that you’d at least managed to sit down next to a good-looking guy. The sharp jaw, broad nose and wide shoulders definitely did it for you. Unfortunately, you were too exhausted, mentally and physically, to really take more note of him right now. Instead, you stared at him with half open eyes and a flat expression. At his lopsided smile and expression of genuine concern, however, you huffed out a bitter laugh that transformed into another one of your long sighs. 

“More like month.”

The man cringed in commiseration and lifted his hand for the bartender to get his attention.  

“Hey, man, serve the lady whatever she wants and put it on my tab, yeah?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words.

“That's really kind of you, but you don't have to,” you said softly, waving a hand around. 

“I know,” he replied simply, but shrugged in a way that clearly stated that he was still doing it. 

You stared at him for a second while he took a gulp of his beer, observing his profile. And what a profile it was. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with a man trying to hit on you, but this guy wasn’t showing you more than genuine kindness. 

“Thanks,” you finally said, giving your order to the waiting bartender. 

“Don’ mention it,” the man smiled, inclining his bottle of beer towards you. 

Silence fell, but you could see him watching you out of the corner of your eyes, contemplating you as you pulled out your phone and put it on do not disturb. You refused to be bothered by anything from work or anything else for that matter. You muttered darkly under your breath as you saw the text in the most recent notification for your job’s group chat, but chose to ignore it. They could deal without you for the next two days. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The man asked tentatively right when your drink arrived. 

You gave him an amused side eye and took a long sip of your drink, groaning in satisfaction at the taste.

“I don't wanna bore you with my shit, but thanks for asking.”

You weren’t blowing him off, but really didn’t think that he’d be interested in listening to everything that was bothering you. 

Apparently he figured that he wasn’t the issue, since he shrugged. “I don't mind. Not a lot I can do, I guess, but if you just wanna rant at someone, go ahead.” 

You laughed at the suggestion and sighed deeply, turning towards him with your head tilted to the side. 

“Oh, you're not ready for this.”

He smirked and faced you as well. “Try me anyway?”

You stared at him for a while, considering him, but he only looked back calmly. Before you knew what was happening, you were talking.

“It’s my job… My manager is retiring in the next few weeks, and the guy replacing her is the worst choice the higher ups could have ever made. He comes from a different field, knows jack about what we do, and trust me, it’s not the past month he spent with my manager while she trained him, well, tried to at least, that will teach him everything he needs to know. It’s just impossible. She always has so much to take care of, and I don’t think that he realizes it yet. And if at least he was putting in the effort and showing us that he wants to do well, that would already be great, but he doesn’t. He keeps putting the blame on other people or the system or whatever whenever something isn’t working, or he messes up. He’s all fake smiles and laughs, but he complains about everything. It’s a nightmare. The thing is, he isn’t the only one at fault. The general manager handpicked him because she knows that she can control him, something she couldn’t do with my old manager. Our office is kinda far away from the headquarters, and we always did great work without anyone’s help. I’ve been working for that company for fifteen years, and my coworkers and I felt that everything was flowing pretty well, even if we knew that the company has more flaws than good sides. Although the salary isn’t what I’d love it to be, I love my coworkers, and the job itself is fine too. But now, with the manager gone, we all suddenly realize just how much shit is going on behind the scenes and what might happen to us. They tried to bribe us by giving out bonuses, but only to certain people. It was all supposed to be hush-hush, y’know. The people getting the bonus weren’t supposed to talk about it, but that’s not how we work. So instead of making us happy, it made us more angry. Not at each other but at the higher ups. Why would some of us get a bonus and others wouldn’t, when we’re doing the exact same job? That, and don’t get me started on how they’re basically kicking my old manager to the curb. She gave thirty years of her life to that company, worked her ass off, spent hours upon hours working so the job wouldn't transform into a giant shitshow. Her work ethic is incredible, and the higher-ups don’t seem to realize just how much she brought to the company. My guess is that they’ll have a rude awakening once she’s officially gone and everything is going to come crumbling down around us.” 

You paused, sighed explosively, and drank down the rest of your drink. 

“Well, shit,” the man said with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. These people really don’t sound like they deserve to have you or your coworkers puttin’ all that effort into the company.”

You scoffed as you stared into your empty glass. 

“You bet your ass they don’t,” you muttered sourly. 

The man chuckled at your vindictive tone, which had your lips pulling up on one side. 

“Hey, man, can we get a refill?”

You lifted your eyes to find your stranger addressing the barkeep and waving a hand over his beer bottle and your glass. While the barkeeper nodded and started on the drinks, you smiled ruefully as your seat neighbor turned his attention back on you, your heart squeezing at the soft smile he sent your way. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, ducking your head. 

“No problem,” he replied in a low tone. 

After a few seconds of silence, you realized that he was still watching you expectantly when you looked at him again. He chuckled at your expression. 

“Somethin’ tells me there’s more.” 

You laughed, loudly and with a wave of relief washing over you. Talking to him was lifting a giant weight off of you, as if getting the words off your chest had been more necessary than you could have ever imagined. His grin was wide as he watched you laugh, which had your stomach warming at the attention. 

“I wanna quit,” you started before pausing briefly and watching the barkeeper bring your drinks. You thanked him and took a fortifying sip. The drink you chose wasn’t too strong, since you just wanted to take the edge off, so you weren’t even really tipsy now. You definitely felt more loose, though. “I’ve thought about changing careers for ages. I don’t mind my current job as it is, it has good and bad points, like any job, I guess. So I’ve put my actual dream career to the side for years, focusing on staying financially stable instead. But now, I realize that I don’t wanna stay in that fucking company. I just can’t, you know? I can’t work ridiculous hours for a barely decent salary anymore. The thing is, I can’t just up and quit like that. I’d lose all the benefits I got over the years, and getting the degree that I need to be able to do what I really want costs money. So right now, I’m still checking out my options, but if the CEO doesn’t agree to let me go with my benefits, I don’t know what I’ll do.” You shook your head miserably and swirled your drink around in the glass. “Going into work and being stressed has been part of the job since day one. But mostly, it was never in a bad way. Especially lately, because I know my job, and I’m good at it. Now, though… When I’m going in, I feel pure disgust and contempt for the people employing me. I’m just so… done.”

You finished with a long breath, your anger simmering down after getting it all out, leaving you with mostly frustration. Your face suddenly grew hot as you realized that you’d basically word-vomited in front of a complete stranger, showing him all the ugly feelings and resentment you’d been carrying around for the past couple of months. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing over them with your thumb and index. “I know you said you were okay with this, but I still feel like I basically just dumped everything on you like a whiny kid.” 

You heard him chuckling, the sound low and warm. 

“Yeah, I told you to go for it, but you didn’t sound whiny to me at all. Just like someone who really needed to get it all off their chest.” 

Leaning your head over your folded arms that were already lying on the counter, you turned your face towards him with a small smile. 

“Guess I did.”

“Do you feel any better?” He watched you intently, his eyes moving over your whole face. 

You looked to the side, taking stock of your emotions, before you met his gaze again with a smile. 

“Yeah… I do.”

“See. Worth listening, then.”

After the past weeks of absolute nightmare, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have happened upon someone as kind as this man. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” you said with a tone of wonder, taking more of him in. You'd noticed his prominent nose earlier, but his mouth was just as worth looking at, as were his brown eyes. 

He scoffed, the sound self-deprecating, but he didn’t say anything, and instead, took a swig from his beer, which brought his large hands into your line of sight. 

“Thank you,” you continued, keeping your eyes on him from your slouched position over your arms. 

“No problem.” This time, he was the one to look away, as if suddenly shy, which only intrigued you more. 

Straightening again, you propped your elbow on the counter and put your head on your fist, leaning slightly in his direction as you observed him with interest. He automatically looked at you again, beer bottle halfway to his mouth. Your heart started to beat faster as his eyes dropped to your mouth. You bit at the side of your bottom lip, as if in reply to his staring, and felt a zap of want when he met your eyes again with a different kind of intensity. Emboldened by your drink and his reaction to you, you leaned in enough for him to be the only one able to hear you. 

“Come home with me?”

The man blinked at you once before simply staring at you quietly, which was the only sign that he was at least slightly surprised by you being this straightforward. You held his gaze, no matter how much you wanted to look away, as embarrassment started to run through you despite your boldness. As his eyes drifted to your mouth again, your anxiousness began to evaporate. 

“Hey, Will,” he said, while keeping his attention solely on you as he addressed the bartender who was walking past you. “I’ll close my tab next time, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Will answered easily, grabbing the beer bottle and glass from in front of you to put them away. 

Biting your lower lip on a giddy grin at the realization that this was actually happening, you got up and grabbed your purse. The man rose as well, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth at your reaction. As you walked out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, you hailed a taxi that was just turning the corner of the street. The both of you got into the car, and once you’d given the driver your address, you spent the ten minutes it took to get to your building in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but your heart was beating like crazy as you tried not to overthink your decision. You refrained from looking at him directly as well, opting to keep your gaze on the street. However, you were aware that he was watching you through the semi darkness of the cab. After arriving in front of your building and stepping out of the taxi after paying for it, you made your way towards your apartment, with the man following one step behind you. He stayed beside you as you fished for your keys, staying just as quiet as before. 

“Right, um, I’ll quickly hit the shower, okay? Been in these work clothes for much longer than I like,” you laughed awkwardly, as you stepped through your apartment door. 

You internally rolled your eyes at yourself at your babbling, but the man just sent you a small smile and hummed in understanding. You nodded and began walking off, but after only one step, you quickly turned back to him. 

“Make yourself at home, yeah? Um… I don’t have anything interesting to drink but if-”

A warm palm cupped one of your cheeks and tilted your face into the man’s direction as he stepped close to you, effectively shutting you up. 

“I’m fine, ‘kay? You go take that shower, and I’ll just wait here, alright?” he said soothingly, his voice low and gentle. 

Staring into his soft brown eyes, you blinked at him before you nodded with a small smile. He let go of you, and you immediately headed into your bathroom, shutting the door and taking a deep breath. You rushed through removing your clothes and finally stepped into the shower. The hot water helped relax your nerves, and by the time you were done, you were still nervous but in an excited way this time. Once you were done drying off and brushing your teeth, you put on a thin bathrobe. As you looked at your underwear selection, you bit your lower lip as you chose to forgo putting on panties. If things went as planned, you wouldn’t be wearing them long anyway. As you stepped out again, you found him standing in front of your bookshelf, his head inclined to the side as he read the titles. He lifted his head towards you, his eyes drifting over your whole body as he watched you approach. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, giving him a small smile. 

“You got a nice book selection,” he commented casually, while standing close to you. 

You threw your bookshelf a small glance and smiled. “You can borrow whatever you like.” 

He hummed, the sound contemplative, but he leaned in until his nose was almost touching yours. 

“Maybe not tonight.” 

You nodded, going nearly cross-eyed as you stared into his warm eyes. A second later, you were closing them anyway, as he tilted his head and pressed his mouth against yours. It was only a gentle press of his lips at first, which he repeated as he leaned his head to the other side this time. His hands came up to cup the sides of your neck, using his thumbs under your jaw to direct your face how he wanted it. Your hands lifted to his biceps, squeezing them as you tentatively sucked at his bottom lip. He seemed to enjoy it, since he grunted and moved in further, causing you to take a step back and against the bookshelf. You moaned softly and opened your mouth as his tongue gently slid over your top lip. As the kiss deepened, you slid your arms around his waist, grabbing at the shirt, while he cupped the back of your neck and placed his other hand on your lower back, bringing you fully against him. You tried pushing for more, but the man simply stroked his tongue lazily against yours while keeping you flush against him. Despite the slowness of the kiss, your knees were beginning to shake anyway with how thoroughly he was delving between your lips. 

“Be — bedroom,” you gasped in between two presses of his lips against yours. 

Your stranger leaned his head away to quietly stare into your eyes, his expression intense, before he took a step away from you, indicating for you to lead the way. Biting your bottom lip, you briefly hesitated before you took hold of his hand to pull him towards the bedroom. As you reached the foot end of the bed, you turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He stepped back into your space without waiting for you to pull him towards you, his hands drifting over your hips and to your back as he sought out your mouth again. You sighed into the new kiss and ran your fingers through his lush hair. A thrill rippled through you as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing it sporadically while the kiss turned hungrier. Wanting to get to your skin, his hands slowly parted the sides of the bathrobe until his fingers could touch your bare thighs. He ran them up slowly, making you shiver as he progressively reached your hips. They stilled for a brief moment as he realized that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the robe. His answer to that fact was to exhale harshly through his nose and make you take a step back towards the bed as he gently bit down on your bottom lip. You gasped at the sharpness of his teeth, and moaned into his mouth. His hands kept exploring your back, ass, and thighs, until you couldn’t stand it anymore and swiftly moved away from him to untie the robe and remove it at last. You were about to return between his arms, but the way he watched you attentively had you stopping and, instead, moving back, taking the last step needed to get on your bed. You did so slowly, moving backwards as you knelt down at the end of the bed. His eyes roved over your body, observing you with such obvious desire that it almost left you breathless. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this kind of undivided and honest attention. The man licked his lips quickly, before he walked up to you and bent down to cup your face and bring his mouth back to yours. Your eyes fell shut as you let him explore your mouth again, tipping your head to the side when he drifted his lips to your jaw before he tilted your head up to kiss down your neck and throat. Needing more of him, you reached for the buckle of his belt and tugged at it meaningfully. He leaned back a fraction to stare at you with a small smile, which you returned before you attacked the belt with needy fingers. Your heart beats were stumbling over each other at the sight of the sizable bulge in his jeans, making you almost clumsy in your haste to get to see all of him. Your stranger let you work in silence, but you knew that he was watching you. His shirt got in the way of your fingers a couple of times, making you huff and tug it up. 

“Off. Now,” you ordered almost snappishly, which only had the man chuckling in amusement. 

As you finally popped open the top button on the jeans, the man complied with your request and began to undo his shirt. With most of the buttons undone, he lifted his hands to the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. While he did so, you fully opened his fly and tugged the jeans and underwear down enough to free his length. You took in a shaky breath as saliva pooled in your mouth at the gorgeous cock standing proudly in front of you. Right as your stranger was having his face covered by the shirt while he pulled it off, you dropped to your front on the bed and leaned in without a second thought, sliding your lips around the tip. His hips jerked as he uttered a short curse of surprise, finally ridding himself off the shirt, which he threw to the side. 

“Shit,” he rasped, as you slowly licked around the head, lapping at the nerves surrounding the crown and using your hands to guide him this or that way. 

Using your elbows for support, you took more of him into your mouth, raising your eyes to his as you did so. His fingers landed in your hair, stroking over it in a gentle caress as he watched you with hooded eyes. You bobbed your head, filling your mouth with as much of him as you could. He felt incredible, big and hot, coating your tongue with his taste and making you moan. Tilting his head to one side, he slowly pulled all the way out, keeping himself a few centimeters away from your mouth. You lowered your eyes to his cock, before you met his hungry gaze again, and opened your mouth. Licking his lips again, his nostrils flared as he slid back between your lips, groaning as you sucked him in eagerly. You let him fuck in and out for a few slow thrusts, delighting in the way he was watching you and how he filled your mouth. Which only made your core ache with the need to have him inside you. 

Pulling off with one last lick, you rose to your knees and grasped the back of his head with both hands. There was no need for words as you met in the middle for a heated kiss. He quickly stepped out of his boots and the rest of his clothes before following you onto the bed, the both of you moving back on your knees until you got to the center. With one arm around your back, he lowered you to the mattress and slipped between your thighs. He draped his body over yours but held himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to stroke the fingers over your jaw. The way he stared at you had a warm shiver going through you, which only got stronger as his hand traveled down your body. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as his hand arrived at your mound before it went further. Your lips parted in a small breath as his fingers drew around your slick folds in a gentle caress, only for your mouth to open wider when he gently began pushing two fingers inside you. You moaned softly and bit your lip as he removed them before he slid them back inside. He watched you intently, drinking in each of your expressions of pleasure as you gripped his shoulders while he slowly fucked you with his fingers. 

“Please,” you begged, clawing at his skin when he didn’t move faster. 

Instead of picking up the pace, you felt a third finger pressing in alongside the two others, forcing a sharp gasp out of you. Throwing your head back against the pillow, you squeezed around his fingers, which earned you a low groan from him. He didn’t go faster, though, content to watch you squirm and moan as your hips undulated on their own to get more friction. Finally, he stopped moving, however kept the fingers inside you, and used his thumb to lightly rub it against your clit. Your hips jerked and thrust up into the contact, while you cried out at the sudden shift in erogenous zone. On any other day, and had you been in a different mood, you would have actually loved having his fingers inside you like this, teasing you, but tonight, you needed him to fuck you. Extending an arm towards the bedside table, you blindly grabbed for the drawer. 

“Please,” you repeated, meeting his attentive gaze with your half lidded eyes. “Fuck me.” 

His eyes followed the length of your arm towards the bedside table. He glanced back at you briefly, before he withdrew his fingers from you, which had you sighing in loss but also excitement at what was to come. Quickly rolling to your side, you opened the drawer to get a condom out of it before laying back under him. He held himself up with his hands level with your shoulders now, watching you as you tore the wrapper open and pulled the condom out. He leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips before moving up again. 

“Go on,” he rasped, the tone telling you that he was at least as affected by the situation as you. 

With your heart slamming in your throat, you peered between your bodies and rolled the condom down his length, licking your lips as it twitched between your fingers when you made sure it was secure at the base. Usually, doing this was something perfunctory, just a step to get to the good part, but with this man’s low grunt as he watched you, you felt yourself burning up even more. Slowly, you shifted your gaze back to his, meeting molten eyes as he lowered himself to one forearm again. He curled his hand under your neck to slip his fingers into the hair at the base of your head, while his other hand vanished between your bodies like earlier, only to line himself up with your entrance this time. You threw your legs over his hips as he did so, and let your fingers run through his hair before closing them in the soft strands on top. His gaze found yours as he pushed inside you slowly, so incredibly slowly. Your mouth fell open on a silent cry as you felt every inch of him inexorably burying inside you. He grunted and hissed when your fingers tightened in his hair, but his eyes remained focused on your face. When he was finally completely inside you, you brought his head down to kiss him deeply and squeezed around his cock to get a better feel of it. He groaned into your mouth and pushed his hips further into you, only resulting in making your head press into the headboard since he was already so deep inside you. While keeping his lips locked with yours, he began to pull out, using the same pace as while moving inside. You moaned and tightly wrapped your legs around his hips, while your walls tried to keep him inside you. He stayed there, with only the tip still inside you. Sucking on his lower lip harshly, you pressed your heels into his ass to get him to move, which he finally did, albeit as unhurriedly as before. He did it again and again, going slow but deep every time, tilting his hips in just the right way and driving you absolutely mad with need. 

“More,” you moaned brokenly, tugging at his hair and shoulders. 

His hand slid down your hair until it was curving over your neck, with the thumb lying at the hollow of your throat. He did move faster then, but it was still too slow for your liking. Drawing your nails down his arms, you keened, halfway between intense pleasure and intense frustration. 

“Fuck me,” you begged, as your fingers squeezed and gripped at his arms and shoulders. “Please, just-”

But the man kissed you quiet. Your eyes closed at the thorough kiss, except that it didn’t last long, since he knelt up and thrust in deep. You cried out, but as good as it felt, he still wasn’t fucking you harder. As you were about to grab his arms again, he caught your wrists and crossed them over each other. You gasped in surprise when he used one of his large palms to press your crossed hands between your breasts, keeping them there with strong fingers. Staring at him with wide and desperate eyes, you whined feebly as his hips gently rocked into yours, making a sharp bout of pleasure run through you. 

“Please,” you repeated for the nth time. “Just… please,” you whispered the last word, feeling your throat constrict. 

His expression was tender as he watched you while he leaned over you. 

“I got you,” he promised in a low tone, kissing you once. “I got you, Sweetheart.” 

The endearment and affection in his words had your heart missing a beat. 

Straightening again, he began moving once more, one hand at your throat, the other still holding your hands secure against your chest. His hips moved firmly; not quick and hard, but firm and intense, letting you feel all of him, while your legs, the only point of you able to do anything, kept pressing the heels into the back of his thighs. You whimpered at the pleasure he was giving you, so utterly different from what you had expected. As your stranger slowly but unrelentingly had your body climbing to its climax, you realized that he wasn’t giving into your pleas because he didn’t want to, but because he knew what you really needed. He’d listened to your story, observed you keenly, let you take the lead. He’d silently taken all of you in to reach this moment and give you what you needed and didn't realize you wanted: letting him take care of you and making you let go of all the negative things that were part of your life. It was with that knowledge that you were suddenly coming, the intensity of your orgasm so strong and so abrupt that your head flew back, your eyes closing tightly, as a cut-off sob spilled over your lips from the overload of feelings. 

“Sh, sh.” 

You felt his body leaning over yours again as his voice drifted closer to your face. His lips moved between your mouth and jaw, placing gentle kisses here and there as he let go of your hands. You instantly wrapped them around his shoulders, holding him tightly as he slid his nose against your neck while his hips picked up speed. Your thighs were trembling against his sides, but you didn’t let go of him, clinging to him as he rode towards his own release. His fingers combed through your hair as another sob ripped through you, which he followed by lifting his face to kiss you fiercely. You welcomed his mouth with gratitude, letting your tongues stroke against each other sensually until he came with a deep groan, his cock pushing as far inside you as possible. 

As you both panted softly, you met his gaze when he slightly leaned up, his eyes moving between yours searchingly. The hand that had been at your throat rose to your face, his thumb stroking away the wetness under your eye. 

“You good?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

You stared at him silently, letting your eyes slide over his face with its warm gaze and worried pull of his mouth. Uncurling your arms from around his neck, you cupped his face and let your thumbs brush over his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you answered softly, and smiled as his lips pulled up before meeting him for an unhurried kiss. 

After a minute, he pressed a final kiss to your cheek and gently pulled out before rolling to the side and off the bed. You watched him pick up his clothes and leave the room in silence. Biting your lip as you gathered your thoughts while climbing out of bed as well, you grabbed the loose T-shirt you wore to bed from the hook behind the door and slipped it on. With a small glance at the empty doorway, you returned to the bed and pulled down the covers to settle into a sitting position against the pillows, feeling unsure of what to do now. The man came back with only his jeans on, which had you taking a couple of seconds to admire his gorgeous form before you met his eyes. He remained in the doorway, looking as unsure as you. His fingers fiddled with the shirt absently as his eyes dropped to the floor and then to the side. When you had asked him to come home with you, it had been a spur of the moment decision, only done to get all the frustration out of your system. A one-time thing, purposely choosing to keep the encounter anonymous. But you didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, anyway. If he wanted to leave, that was okay, but-

“You could stay if you want,” you found yourself saying, as he still hadn’t moved away from the doorway. 

His eyes snapped to yours, then to the spot next to you, considering it for a second before he nodded a few times. He moved towards the bed and joined you under the covers after taking off his clothes again. Lying down next to him, you faced each other. His eyes traveled over your face again, stopping at your mouth a few times, which had you smiling lightly. At that, his gaze found yours, but you both stayed quiet as you observed each other. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you finally said softly, with a faint smile. 

The man frowned and shook his head as he looked down. “You don’t gotta thank me for nothin’.”

You smiled fondly at his display of shyness. “Maybe, but I haven’t felt this… peaceful in weeks, and this means a lot to me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and lifted his eyes to yours with a tiny, one-sided smile. You bit your bottom lip as you observed him.

“You really are something else,” you murmured, before chuckling at his unconvinced huff. “No, you really are…” you trailed off meaningfully. 

“Frank,” came the answer after a beat of silence.

Your smile widened at finding out his name.

“Nice to meet you, Frank,” you grinned before sharing your name as well. 

Frank snorted at your antics. “Yeah,” he said in a low and pleasant tone. “Likewise.” 

A second later, a giant yawn split your face, which had Frank chuckling in amusement, while you tried to muffle the yawn with a hand and push at his chest with the other. 

“Maybe we should get some rest, huh?” he suggested with a small laugh. 

You only hummed in agreement and turned briefly to your other side to reach the light switch, sinking the room into darkness with only the city lights coming through the blinds. 

“Good night, Frank,” you said softly, the name sounding private in the small space between your bodies. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he repeated in an almost whisper, shifting closer to press a tender kiss to your forehead while he pulled you into his side. 

[linnitheo]

The Speed of Love

Max Verstappen X Y/N

Y/N POV

The hum of engines filled the air, vibrating through my chest. The sun beat down on the streets of Monaco, casting long shadows between the narrow alleys and gleaming off the luxury yachts moored nearby. The Monaco Grand Prix—the crown jewel of Formula 1. A perfect blend of speed, glamour, and danger.

I adjusted my lanyard, the one that read VIP with Max Verstappen’s name under it. It still felt surreal being here, not just as a spectator but as someone close to Max—closer than the world knew.

I wasn’t just here for the race; I was here for him. The reigning world champion, Red Bull’s finest. But to me, Max was more than that. He was Max, the guy who made me laugh after long days, the guy who called me at odd hours from different time zones just to hear my voice, the guy who looked at me like I was his entire world even with millions of fans screaming his name.

Our relationship wasn’t public. Max wanted to keep it that way—out of the spotlight, away from the media frenzy. And honestly, I didn’t mind. In fact, I preferred it. It was a lot easier to be “Y/N” rather than “Max Verstappen’s girlfriend.”

I slipped into the VIP lounge, a little early for the race, the excitement thrumming in the air. The usual suspects were all here—other drivers' families, sponsors, and some celebrities. But my eyes kept flicking toward the pit lane, where I knew Max was getting ready for the biggest race of the year.

As I watched the screens showing the chaotic energy in the paddock, my phone buzzed.

Max: “You in the lounge?”

Me: “Yeah. All set for your victory?”

Max: “Always. Want to see you before the race starts. Meet me near the garage?”

I felt my heart skip a beat. Even though we tried to keep it low-key, moments like these made it clear how much he cared. Glancing around to make sure no one would follow me, I made my way through the crowd, passing the Red Bull hospitality area and the rows of sleek, gleaming cars.

As I approached the garage, I spotted him—leaning casually against the wall, helmet in hand, looking like the calm before the storm. His eyes lit up when he saw me, that signature crooked smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but warm as he closed the distance between us.

“You shouldn’t be distracting yourself before the race,” I teased, though my heart was racing.

“Couldn’t help it,” he murmured, eyes tracing my face. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“Really? Haven’t I been around for a few races you didn’t win?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep it light.

He laughed softly, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray hair behind my ear. “Maybe. But today feels different.”

There was a fire in his eyes—one that spoke of more than just his love for racing. There was something unspoken between us, the weight of his words lingering in the air.

“Good luck out there,” I whispered, resisting the urge to kiss him. There were too many eyes, too many cameras nearby.

“I’ll see you after the race,” he promised, voice husky as he pulled back and slipped his helmet on, instantly transforming from Max to Verstappen.

Max POV

The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the sound of the engine beneath me. Monaco. There was no room for mistakes here. One slip and it could be all over. But that’s why I loved it. The adrenaline, the precision, the danger. It’s what made me feel alive.

But even as I steered through the narrow streets, threading the car through barriers with millimeters to spare, my mind kept drifting to her. Y/N. She had this way of grounding me, of making the chaos of F1 fade into the background, even if just for a moment.

She was my escape, my reason to keep pushing harder, to keep winning. Because when I crossed that finish line first, it wasn’t just for me—it was for her.

The race was tight—Ferraris and Mercedes breathing down my neck, the pressure building as the laps ticked down. The walls seemed to close in, but I didn’t waver. I couldn’t afford to.

Lap 67. A yellow flag came up—some debris on the track after a crash behind me. I could hear my engineer’s voice crackling through the radio, but I barely registered it. My focus was singular. I could almost picture Y/N waiting in the paddock, her wide smile the moment I stepped out of the car.

The last corner approached. My tires screamed, the G-forces tugging at my body as I navigated the final hairpin. The finish line was in sight.

I punched it, every ounce of power surging through the car as I crossed the line first. Victory.

Y/N POV

The explosion of noise was deafening as Max’s car crossed the finish line. He did it. Again.

The rest of the world erupted in celebration, but all I could think about was seeing him. I hurried down from the lounge, making my way through the throngs of fans and team members. The Red Bull garage was a frenzy of high-fives and champagne, but I stayed on the outskirts, waiting for him.

And then I saw him. Helmet off, sweaty, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Max was enveloped by his team, but his eyes scanned the crowd until they locked onto mine.

Without thinking, he pushed through the crowd and grabbed my hand, pulling me into a corner, away from prying eyes. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine—fast, hungry, full of adrenaline. I could taste the sweat and champagne on his lips, but I didn’t care.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and he was breathing hard—not from the race, but from the intensity between us.

“I told you,” he whispered, still catching his breath. “You’re my good luck charm.”

Max POV

Her lips against mine—it was the only thing I needed after that race. I could feel the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, but it wasn’t from the win. It was from her. She had this way of making me forget everything. The noise, the pressure, the world outside. When I was with her, it was just us.

But there was something more tonight. Something I couldn’t put off any longer.

“Y/N,” I started, taking her hand in mine as I led her away from the chaos, toward the back of the paddock. “I’ve been thinking…”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but also a little cautious. “About what?”

“This,” I gestured between us. “I don’t want to hide it anymore. I don’t want to keep you a secret. You’re more than just someone I care about. You’re…” I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “You’re everything.”

Her eyes widened, and I could see the emotions warring inside her. But before she could say anything, I pressed on.

“I know it’s a lot—the media, the pressure. But I don’t care about that anymore. I want the world to know you’re mine.”

Y/N POV

I was speechless. Max Verstappen, the man who had kept our relationship out of the spotlight to protect me, was now saying he wanted to go public. I knew what it meant—the scrutiny, the paparazzi, the endless questions. But looking into his eyes, full of certainty and love, I realized something.

I didn’t care either. Not anymore.

“I’m in,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the distant cheers. “I’m all in.”

Max smiled, that rare, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Good,” he said, pulling me close once more. “Because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

As the night of celebrations continued, we slipped away from the crowd, the world beyond the paddock melting away. Max and I walked down to the harbor, the twinkling lights reflecting off the calm water.

“Race you to the end of the dock?” he teased, that competitive glint back in his eye.

I laughed, already running before he could finish. Max caught up to me in seconds, his laughter mixing with mine as he scooped me up, spinning me around.

In that moment, there was no pressure, no danger. Just us.

And for once, it felt like I had won the race.

The End

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 71)

Patrol was both the easiest and the hardest job N had. Most days it was a whole lot of nothing, walking around the market, hallways, and residents, people watching. At this point it was mostly friendly smiles he got when people saw him, and he was always sure to give one back.

Today was looking to be much of the same, the only slight bump he had run into was a group of teenagers having magnets they weren't supposed to, of which he confiscated and sent them on their way. It wasn't exactly illegal for adults, but for minors it definitely wasn't allowed, and needed to be confiscated.

There were lines under his eyes, stress made him look way older then he was as he leaned up against a wall in the market and took a long drink out of his oil container. His hands were marked with tiny bites from his daughter, and he smiled lightly as he touched them.

As much as he was stressed, he was also content with how he was building his life. This morning he had kissed Uzi goodbye on his way out the door and did the same to his still sleeping daughter in her arms.

The night before, he'd taken them both up to the nest and they'd taken turns reading to her as she fell asleep, and then spent the rest of the night talking about nothing, meaningless talk that went nowhere but everywhere at the same time.

It was… perfect. For the most part.

He sighed with a small smile as he took a final sip of oil, topping up his reserves to full before stashing it away in his pocket, when something caught his eye.

A couple of drones sneaking into an abandoned hallway. Which were common in the bunker, but usually closed off with ‘DO NOT ENTER’ signs… not that anyone ever paid any attention to them.

Rolling his eyes, he followed them silently, he wouldn't be surprised if he had to confiscate more magnets or an even harder system altering substance, it wouldn't be the first time.

“Where are we going?” One of the drones asked the other, who was holding their hand while leading them forward, they had dark blue eyelights and was wearing a fisherman's cap with sunglasses perched on them, a grey tank top, and tan cargo pants.

The drone in front of them laughed, wearing a leather jacket and his auburn hair slicked back into a greaser classic, he had vibrant orange eyelights and a blush on his face.

“You'll see.”

N continued to follow them, not so close that they'd notice but close enough that he could still hear and somewhat see them, it was convenient that the very traits that made him good at killing drones also made him excellent at his job now.

Once the two drones were well away from the market and any other person, they stopped in one of the only well lit rooms back in the neglected portion of the bunker, it looked like someone had put up some decorations, paper flowers of blue and orange, and some similarly colored streamers in the shape of hearts.

N suddenly felt he shouldn't be here.

“Martin? You set up all this?” The one with blue eyelights asked, clasping their hands together in front of them, smiling from visor to visor.

“Yeah, you like it Link?” Martin asked, looking nervous but still smiling at the other drone. Link wrapped him in a hug, smiling wildly.

“I love it! But what's the occasion?” Link pulled back with a dark blue blush, looking into Martin's visor, the other drone had a soft look on his face, one N was sure he'd worn every time he looked at Uzi.

And then got down on one knee.

“Link I-I, We've been together for so long now, and I… I never want to wake up in the morning without you being next to me.” He pulled out a little box from his pocket and opened it, inside was a necklace with an orange gem, held inside a silver border.

“You've changed my life, and I want to change yours.”

Link had tears in their eyes, their mouth wavery as they realized what was happening.

“Will you marry me, and be my better half?”

“YES! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!”

Link jumped into Martin's arms, causing them both to crash into the floor and Martin to laugh wholeheartedly, he put the necklace around Links neck, before grabbing it to pull them in for a very passionate kiss.

“Did you get me a long necklace just so you could do that?” Link asked with a smirk as they pulled away.

“Maybe.”

N backed away slowly, leaving the happy couple alone while he went back to the market, even he was blushing a bit, feeling bad about eavesdropping on what was obviously a special moment.

Marriage wasn't something he often thought about. His relationship with Uzi was perfect as is. She was already his partner, his ‘better half’. And asking her to be felt… redundant. Of course she was the one, there wasn't, couldn’t be, anyone else. So he'd never seen the point.

She said it best herself, they mate for life.

Still though, the entire situation had him wondering if that was something she might want. It was certainly something her dad wanted for them, but he was more worried about what she wanted.

It was best to ask about something like that right? If he just popped a question like that out of the blue that would be really sudden and off-putting, especially if she didn't want to. But how did he ask a question like that?

Did he even want to?

He would do anything to make her happy, and if she wanted to get married he would be all for it. A big celebration to celebrate how much they loved each other sounded… romantic actually. And extremely fun, now that he was thinking about it.

Maybe he did.

He blushed a little at the thought of calling her his wife. And more at the thought of her calling him her husband.

But they hadn't talked about it at all really. They'd talked about spending the rest of their lives together. But not about actually getting married, which felt a little silly now that he was paying attention.

He'd need to bring it up. He would bring it up, just… at the right time.

We watched as that same couple passed him again, hand in hand as they walked back through the market, they looked happy, extremly happy.

…

Uzi was home alone. Finally.

V was nowhere to be seen, hopefully bothering Lizzy instead of her. And that left plenty of time for her to binge watch a new anime, she had a few hours before N came home, so a few hours of uninterrupted watch time.

She'd been doing her best to keep herself stress free, which today meant sitting covered up in a blanket with a warm container of oil and a plate of assorted drone building materials with Tera asleep in her crib.

Tonight, she'd probably ask N to bring them back up to the nest, where a lot of her stress really did seem to melt away. She wasn't sure if it was the location or what, but there she could just get lost in the moment for hours, where no one could truly bother them.

She'd even begun to write in an empty book, it wasn't a journal, it was just… her life, written out in words, though maybe embellished somewhat, part creative, part actual history, of how her and N met, of her dad and what she could remember of her mom, and the weird, solver bullshit and how she'd dealt with it.

It was partly for her, partly for her kids, both of them would have the solver, and she wanted to leave tips on how to control it better instead of being thrown in on the deep end like she was.

Hopefully, she'd be there to teach them herself, but the book was there, just in case.

She ran her hand over her midsection, not any larger visually but it was heavier, contributing to her loss of balance, she idly wondered what they would be be like, she hoped they would be more like N then her, he was patient, and loving, and the best partner she could ever ask for.

“I hope you're just as excited to meet us as we are to meet you…” She hummed, blushing slightly as she realized she was talking to her unborn child like every doting, expectant mother out there, it wasn't even like they were developed enough to truly hear her either.

She looked at her core, the color a lavender that almost bled into pink, by what color her core was now, she could safely say the neural network inside would be a very light color, white; or a pale yellow.

Good, Tera already shared her eye color, N deserved to have one of his kids to look like him. She imagined a tiny toddler with silver hair and pale yellow eyes, the spitting image of N.

Would she want more kids after?

Maybe. That would entirely depend on how painful of an experience this ended up being. While she was utterly exhausted, there was also something in the back of her mind telling her that this was what she was built for. And while she didn't quite believe that, it was a rather nice thought.

That she was built for N.

A sweet sentiment, if logically impossible.

She couldn't put into words how much she loved that man. How something as simple as his hand on her shoulder would have her leaning into him, or how his voice was so calming it was so easy to get lost in…

That was so sappy. But it was true.

Every single day she fell deeper in love with him, even when he came home exhausted he still made time to be with her, to be there for their daughter and drowning them both in all the affection he had to give.

He was a great dad, and an even better life partner.

Part of her wondered if the pregnancy hormones were partly to blame for her increased reverence of him, but recently, she'd just been feeling… so hopelessly in love. It was a good thing that were already together, otherwise she might just explode.

It was gross and sappy and so, so perfect.

The door opened;

“Hey honey, I'm back.”

Next ->

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

Birthday Transformation

Michael was on his last day of being 29, in just a handful of hours, he would be 30 years old, which isn't the end of the world, but to some it spells 'Twink Death'

And that's just what Michael had been, at least for the past decade; a blonde-haired twink. Of course it wasn't always that way. At one point Michael was a gangly ginger guy, and the change wasn't one he'd intended to go about.

On the night Michael turned 20, his body had completely transformed, the curly ginger hair shortening and becoming blonde, his body structure shortening and his body becoming more taught, even the goofy face and teeth had changed. It had baffled many who had known him in his college years, and it had changed him in a big way, no longer the unpopular art student, but a studly young man who changed courses for sports and fitness. He definitely became popular with the college athletes, though it was safe to say he'd spent a lot more of the past decade bottoming rather than topping. For a confident guy, his slim build didn't particularly scream dominating.

Of course as times had rolled on, more tools became useful to him, the invention of TikTok and OnlyFans had helped Michael build a following, even an income. He frequented the gyms in town to maintain his slim yet stocky build, for some it only made him more irresistable. In the year leading up to his 30th birthday however, close friends had begun talking about what turning 30 could mean for this career he'd built up. It's true many gay men lose interest in twinks when they turn 30, no longer as boyish-looking as they used to be, and Michael was no exception. Even he had begun to notice the wrinkles on his forehead when he raised his eyebrows. But who knows, maybe that miracle that happened 10 years ago might happen again.

Michael finished his day and headed home, made himself some dinner, had a shower and took off his clothing, looking at his body in the mirror in his bedroom. He'd put a lot of work into his appearance, keeping up with popular haircuts, wearing clothing that was in fashion, ensuring he kept some muscle despite the slim body. He thought back to his reaction when he'd woken up on his 20th birthday and his body had completely changed overnight, he was completely different, but it was still him. He massaged his smooth cheeks and chiseled jaw, he'd strangely never been able to grow facial hair. His pecs felt nice, if flat, his abs on point, his dick was pretty average, but then it wasn't like it mattered to the guys he'd slept with over the past decade, they were more busy pounding the bubble butt he called an ass. He took his phone off charge and took one last selfie, captioning it.

'Twink Death in T-Minus 2 Hours!'

He chuckled as he posted it, watching as it got reactions from the regulars on his social pages. Just then his phone began to ring, it was his friend Ryan. He swiped up and put the phone to his ear. 'Hey Ryan, what's up?' Michael asked. 'Hey Mike, I'm good. Just saw your post, you're not still hung up on that whole Twink Death thing are you?' Ryan asked. 'Oh, nah, it's all good. I'll just be turning 30, no biggie!' replied Michael, shrugging. 'Good mate, it's just I want you to know no matter what people say, you're still a gorgeous guy. That's not gonna change overnight' said Ryan. Michael looked back to his reflection and thought for a moment, what if this change he was thinking of didn't happen. 'You still there Mike?' asked Ryan, jumping Michael out of his trance. 'Oh, yeah, sorry just getting ready for bed. Look, shall we meet up for coffee tomorrow?' asked Michael. 'Yeah sounds good, maybe I can get some extra cream for the Birthday Boy' replied Ryan seductively. Michael laughed. 'Shut up Ryan! You get some sleep buddy. See you tomorrow!' chuckled Michael. Ryan wasn't bad really, he'd always had a soft spot for him. He was one of the few friends that knew Michael before his first transformation, and what a revelation that had been for both of them. Michael put his phone on his bedside desk and put a sheet over his mirror, he wanted to be surprised if a change did infact happen. He turned the lights out, sighed happily and snuggled up warm in his bed.

Michael had fallen deep asleep by midnight and that was when the magic began. It started with a growling in his gut as his stomach began to push out against his abs. Hair began to sprout out from his clean-shaven chest and arms as they began to bulk up and his shoulders became more broader and muscular. His hands grew and became more calloused, his legs and feet lengthened and became more hairier, hair was just growing from everywhere. Michael had taken to keeping everything clean-shaven, even his ass and groin, but these tiny dark hairs were coming from everywhere. His dick began to widen and lengthen, becoming a 7-inch girthy fuckstick with some pretty nice balls and his ass became two hefty, hairy melons that filled out his boxers better than before. Despite his body becoming bigger, his muscle definition didn't grant him too big of a gut, he wasn't skin and bones anymore, but he had a pretty huggable frame. Michael's neck began to fill out and dark facial hair began to sprout out, covering his chin, cheeks and jawline. His blonde hair grew out and became a dark brown, as did his eyebrows, becoming bushier and his face restructured granting him a sharp nose with some pretty kissable lips nestled nicely in his beard. The hair on his head kept it's relatively side-swept style, but it became a lot thicker and bushier, and there he laid in his bed, a changed man and yet unaware.

Michael woke up with a yawn, stretching and moving his hands down below the covers to stroke his morning wood under his boxers. 'Mmmm, nice' murmured Michael, feeling his new dick and snapping his eyes open in realisation, sitting upright and examining his new body. He was hairy to say the least, and he actually had a chest that a man could rest their head on now. He couldn't believe it had actually happened again! 'Holy fucking shit!' Michael gasped excitedly, feeling his throat realising his voice had become deeper. He sprang out of bed and tore the sheet off the mirror, being greeted by the man he had become overnight. He examined his face closely in the mirror, feeling his facial hair as it bristled against his fingers. The face itself looked strangely youthful, but worn. Honestly it was a look that Michael didn't mind, it was an experienced look. 'Goodbye Twink, Hello Daddy!' Michael said, laughing. He looked to his fully erect dick and then back to his reflection, wiggling his eyebrows and biting his lip, smiling. 'Guess we're not bottoming anymore huh? Unless someone's feeling brave!' Michael chuckled, feeling his dick again. He lowered his boxers and grabbed his shaft, enjoying the sight of himself masturbating. He began to work up a sweat and after some choice filthy talk, he came over his reflection in the mirror. Panting and leaning on the mirror, he looked his face up and down and smiled. 'We hit the fucking jackpot this time!' he whispered excitedly, kissing his reflection passionately. He was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing, it was Ryan.

'Hey Mike! Happy Birthday man!' said Ryan happily. 'Ryan! Dude! It's so good to hear you! Thanks!' replied Michael breathily. 'Whoa man, you sound groggy as fuck! You just woke up?' asked Ryan. 'Uh, yeah. Something like that. We still on for coffee?' asked Michael, eyeing his wardrobe. 'Yeah, I can get to our usual spot in half an hour, sound good?' asked Ryan. 'Perfect! I'll see you soon. Got a few surprises for you!' said Michael, grinning and hanging up before Ryan could respond. He opened his wardrobe doors and grabbed a shirt, but then hesitated. He looked at the shirt and his reflection, he just wasn't feeling it. The styles he'd grown to wear just weren't doing it for him anymore, he searched his wardrobe for something grittier, leathery. He settled on a pair of ripped jeans, brown boots, white t-shirt and a leather jacket. He ruffled up his hair, this was a look he was vibing with. He used to be neat and fancy, but now he just wanted to be laid-back, smoky and seductive, like a Greaser. He pocketed his phone and headed out to the carpark to his car. Again he had a small car that did the job, but what he was really craving was a motorbike. He shook his head, he could sell his car later and get a motorbike, right now he had a date with Ryan, maybe he could get some cigarettes on the way.

Michael was still Michael and had always been him, the sporty fashion twink was gone now, a memory of a past life alongside the nerdy artist before him. This decade he was gonna be a lean leather daddy, and he was gonna love every day of it.

[sequinsmile-x]

Build Me Up and Let Me Down

Dating him was everything she wanted it to be, apart from one thing. 

They hadn’t had sex yet. 

-x-

Hi friends,

The idea for this came to me when I was having my nails done today (what can I say, my mind wonders) and then I posted here talking about it, and you guys all went crazy for it so here we are. Several hours and 4.9k words later!!

I hope you all enjoy it and that it lives up to what you wanted <3

Please do let me know what you think

-x-

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Dating Aaron was, mostly, everything she wanted it to be.

He was kind. Funny in a way she never would have guessed when they first met, his sense of humour dry. Quick-witted in a way that made her almost spray wine out of her nose on their first date, something that would have embarrassed her had he not already been her best friend. 

They’d worked together to get to this point, their friendship slowly but surely transforming into something more. The kind of relationship she’d spent her whole life chasing, forever looking for it in the wrong people and the wrong places until she became convinced that maybe she just wasn’t meant to have something like that. 

Until she realised she could see it all with him, someone who had been right in front of her all along. 

She’d kissed him first. A soft, delicate thing she’d pressed against his lips after he dropped her home one night after a long case that had made her sleep on the jet the entire journey back to DC. He’d insisted he didn’t want her to drive, assured her he’d pick her back up in the morning so she didn’t have to worry about her car, and suddenly every reason she’d had for not taking the next step with him no longer existed. He’d parked outside her building and turned to look at her, a soft smile on his face reserved for just her and Jack, and she’d leant across the centre console and kissed him. She’d been nothing short of delighted to see he was still smiling when she pulled back, his eyes now dazed. 

He took her on a date and they discussed everything, spoke about what they both wanted and agreed to move forward as a couple. That had been a month ago, one of the happiest months of her life, and she had never looked back. 

He bought her things, quickly teaching her that one of his love languages was definitely gift-giving. Whether it was a coffee on the way to work with a pasty she knew came from a bakery across town from where he lives, a book he said he saw and thought of her, or a candy bar he’d pull out of seemingly nowhere when she needed it most, they were all tokens of his affection for her. Small moments that made her cheeks flush and her heart race in her chest as she had to stop herself from telling him she loved him, sure that it was far too soon to admit something like that. 

Dating him was everything she wanted it to be, apart from one thing. 

They hadn’t had sex yet. 

They’d made out. A lot. Their dates often ending at his apartment or hers, just like tonight’s had. Another drink shared as they sat on the couch together, soft kisses giving way to more passionate ones, but he’d always stop them. He’d slam on the breaks just as she started to feel her blood warming up and what she had initially considered sweet and gentlemanly was now frustrating her. 

They’d slept next to each other. She’d woken up curled around him, or with him curled around her, but they’d never gone any further than making out. The brief touches of his warm skin against hers, usually his palm sneaking under her shirt as they slept, as if when he was unconscious he couldn’t stop himself, all she had to go on. She felt like a woman starved, driven crazy by the small bits of him he’d allowed her to have, and she knew she was near her breaking point. The threads of her patience fraying, so close to snapping, she knew it would only take one more gentle assurance against her lips, one more soft squeeze of her waist, before she broke. 

She was starting to wonder if it was her. If there was something about her he couldn’t see past, and she hated it. Hated that he’d become so important to her he had burrowed underneath her usually unflappable confidence. She knew sex wasn’t everything, but it was still important. She wanted to have that connection with him, to make him feel good and let him do the same for her. 

“You ok, sweetheart?” He asks, and she turns to look at him, smiling and nodding as she takes the glass of wine from him and has a sip before she places the glass down on the coffee table next to her couch. 

“I’m good,” she replies, tilting her head to stamp her lips against his, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arm around her shoulders. She smiles as she pulls back, her eyes focused on his lips as she shifts, throwing her legs over his lap as she tries to get closer, “I’m more than good.” 

“You’re perfect,” he says, kissing her again. She beams at him, his compliment warming her from the inside out, she settles further into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, as they continue to get lost in each other on her couch. She can feel him go hard beneath her, can feel the material of her dark green desk inch up her thighs as she sinks deeper into his embrace.

She rolls her hips against his and scratches the back of his head, her blunt nails rasping against his short hair. She feels pride and arousal in equal measure spread through her when he groans, the taste of it, of him, on her tongue spurring her on. She trails her hands down his neck, her fingers soft against his skin as she reaches for the buttons on his shirt, the way it was slightly open already, his tie left at his upon her insistence and teasing, something she had memorised back at the restaurant. She feels a familiar grip on her waist before his hands travel downwards, his thumbs pressing into her hip bones before he pulls back.

“Em,” he says, his voice thick, and when she opens her eyes to look at him, she sees a now familiar look in his eyes. A mix of barely restrained desire and hesitance that finally makes her snap.

She growls in frustration as she removes herself from his lap, ignoring his attempts to keep her on the couch with him as she pulls at the hem of her dress, tugging it back down the parts of her thighs that had been exposed. Her skin tinged pink with arousal and embarrassment as she crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him, a determined frown on her face. 

“What is going on, Aaron?” She asks, her voice strained as she clenches her teeth, “We’ve been dating for a month and you keep…putting on the brakes.” 

He sighs and stands up,  all too aware of the tightness in his pants, of how the material strains against him. He feels guilt race through his blood, chasing the need he has for her around his body, snapping at its heels in a way he’s worried will allow it to overtake. 

“Em-”

“I’d ask if it’s because you’re not attracted to me,” she says, cutting him off, scoffing as she points to his crotch, “But you could see that thing from space.” She’d felt him hard underneath every time they’d done this. The way he’d press into her, just enough for her to rock against as they made out or into her back on the rare mornings they’d slept next to each other, was enough of a taste of what she wanted to drive her insane. “Is it because you just don’t see this going anywhere and you don’t see the point? Because you’ve never seemed like the ‘fuck them and leave them’ kind of guy, so why should you start now I guess.” 

He steps towards her as she laughs bitterly, his hand reaching out to touch her arm, but she stops him, taking a step back again, “Of course not-”

She shakes her head, her tongue licking her kiss-swollen lips, chasing the already fading taste of him as a thought occurs to her, the very idea enough to steal the air from her lungs as she interrupts him once again.

“It’s…it’s not because of Ian is it?” 

It’s something she hadn’t considered before, something that hadn’t even crossed her mind, but now it’s all she can think about. He knew what she’d done, who she’d become in the time she spent with Ian, and maybe he couldn’t get past it.

He watches as she folds in on herself, as she visibly shrinks in front of him, and he immediately feels worse. Horrified that she’d think he thought that, that he considered her anything other than brave and honourable and a dozen other things he thought whenever he looked at her. 

“Emily, sweetheart,” he says, grateful when she doesn’t step back his time, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It’s not that,” he says firmly, his heart aching when she still looks unsure, a new insecurity unlocked because he couldn’t get past his own. “I promise.” 

She stares at him for a moment and she knows he’s telling the truth, the vulnerability in his eyes matching her own, and she nods, clearing her throat before she speaks again, “Then what is it? Do you…just not want to?” 

“I want to,” he says, the words spilling out so quickly they merge together, tripping over each other in a way that has her raising her eyebrows at him, “It’s just…” he sighs, embarrassment warming his cheeks as he shakes his head at himself, “Come sit down.” 

She lets herself be led to her couch, his hand wrapped around hers, and she looks at him expectantly. They fall into silence and she watches him carefully, a flurry of emotions washing over his face again and again that makes her feel nothing but love and affection for him. She swallows thickly and decides she needs to break the tension, falling back onto humour in a way she knows her therapist would chastise her for. 

“Is this some macho concern about the size of your dick?” She asks, smiling when he looks up at her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Because I can assure you, honey, what I’ve felt so far is nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

Aaron laughs, some of the tension in his chest caused by something he knew was only an issue for him dissipating, “No, it’s not that,” he says, squeezing her hand to silently show his gratitude for her attempt to calm him down. He sighs and closes his eyes, looking down at their joint hands, “I’ve only ever had sex with Haley before.” 

Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and she stares at him for a moment even though he was avoiding her eye contact, “Oh.” 

He looks up at her, her expression unreadable as she looks at him, and he offers her a half smile, “I did marry my high school sweetheart,” he says, “It can’t be that much of a surprise.”

“You got divorced years ago,” she says, thinking out loud more than anything, trying to figure out how this man, this gorgeous, huge giant of a man could have gone without for so long. “What about Kate Joyner?”

He chuckles, “Despite popular belief, we never liaised,” he says, laughing again when her eyes go comically wide, “You’re not as quiet as you think you are sweetheart.” 

She clears her throat, shaking off the embarrassment as best she can as she takes in everything he’d told her. “What I mean is, it’s not like you wouldn’t have had the opportunity if you’d gone looking for it.” 

He lifts their joint hands and kisses her knuckles, “After a while I kind of realised I wanted it to mean something, as ridiculous as that might sound-”

“Not ridiculous-”

“And then we started dating, and you’re…well you’re everything,” he says, “But then I started to worry about letting you down, something Dave said-”

“What did Dave say?” She asks, frowning as she interrupts, irritation at their friend already building in her chest. Aaron can see the tension in her shoulders, the irritation etched into her face, and he chooses his words carefully. 

“He said something about you being a firecracker,” he says, watching as her eyebrows shoot into her hairline, a scoff escaping her before she can stop it. 

“Lo ucciderò,” she mutters under her breath before she turns her attention back to Aaron, “For a start, never take romantic advice from a man who pays more attention to pasta than he does to women,” she says, breaking into a smile when Aaron does, “And secondly, you could never let me down,” she bites her lip and reaches out for him, her hand against his cheek as she gently strokes his skin. She knew if it was anyone else, if it was somebody other than him, that she’d think he was judging her for how much more experienced she was than him. But she knows him, she loves him, and she knows it would never have even crossed his mind, “You have no idea what you do to me.” 

It was unlike anything she’d ever known. How he could set fire to her with nothing but a look across a room. How the simplest touch could steal her breath away, leaving her silently begging for more, thinking of any reason she could brush against him in the office just to get that close again. 

He scoffs, unsure how he could affect her like she affected him. Her touch burned into his skin every time she so much as touched his hand when handing him a file. He shakes his head, “Em-”

“I mean it,” she says, stopping him from putting himself down, leaning forward to kiss him, smiling as he chases the kiss when she pulls back, “Come with me,” she says, kissing him again before she stands up and pulls him with her, leading him to her bedroom, “Let me show you.”

He follows closely behind her, the hand not tangled with hers finding its way around her waist, his lips against her throat. She tilts her head to give him more access, sighing softly as they make it across the threshold into her bedroom. She turns in his arms, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, a soft thing that reminds them of what they’d gone through to get here, and she smiles at him when it ends. 

He watches as she steps back, just putting enough distance between them that his hands slip off her waist. She turns and pushes her hair out of the way, revealing the zipper on the back of her dress. She looks at him over her shoulder her request silent as their eyes meet, and he nods, closing the gap between them as he reaches for the zipper, gentle as he tugs it downwards, unable to tear his eyes off of her pale skin as it gets revealed to him. 

Emily closes her eyes, her breath catching in her chest as she feels his skip over her exposed skin, the warmth of his hands so close and yet so far as he pulls the zip all the way down. Then he touches her, his hands gentle as his knuckles skim across her whilst he pulls the material of her dress down her shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to her shoulder blade as he does so. 

She turns to look at him again, their eyes meeting as she lets the dress fall to the ground, revealing the matching dark green lingerie she’d bought for tonight, so determined that this would happen she’d thought to herself that she could just strip in front of him if it came to it. She feels pride and nerves mix in her belly as he looks her up and down, his eyes lingering ever so slightly on the scar on her abdomen. Silver skin that was as good as it would ever get that still hurt sometimes if she thought about it too much standing out beneath the lace material of her bra. She places her hand over the centre of the scar without meaning to, a reflex she didn’t know she had, whilst she starts to talk.

“I know it’s not-”

“No,” he says, cutting her off, closing the gap between them again as he places his hands on her bare waist, “You’re beautiful,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, his lips briefly against hers before he moves to her cheek, then her jaw, before travelling back to her lips, “So fucking beautiful.” 

She pulls him in for a kiss, a fierceness to it that had been missing since he put a stop to them making out on the couch, and she groans as she presses herself against him, the scratch of his shirt, of his pants, against her setting her on edge. He hauls her closer, lifting her up so quickly she squeals, her arms tight around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. His hands are on her back, securing her in place as he walks them the short distance to the bed. 

She doesn’t break the kiss as he lays her down on the bed, her hands grasping at his shirt collar as she holds him close. She pulls back when oxygen becomes an issue, her vision already blurring at the edges, and she rests her forehead against his, smiling when she realises the awkward position he was half standing in as he hovered over her in the bed. 

“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes,” she breathes out, her voice not sounding like her own, and he nods in response, stamping another kiss against her lips before he pulls back. 

He makes quick work of undressing himself and she presses her thighs together as she watches him, desperate for some relief as she finally sees what she’d been imagining for weeks. For years if she was honest with herself. She swallows thickly when he steps out of his pants and boxers in one go, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she watches him spring free.

“Definitely nothing to be embarrassed about,” she mutters, winking at him when he raises an eyebrow at her, any of his previous shyness he’d felt left in her living room. She giggles, something she’d later deny, and goes quiet again as he removes his shirt, the material rumbled by her attention falling to the floor with the rest of their clothes. 

She takes a moment to look at the scars she’d spent years imagining, taking in the varying thickness of them, the distribution that would seem random if you didn’t know any better. 

“I know they’re not-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off, repeating the interaction they’d had only minutes ago, one of the many ways they were similar, one of the many reasons she thought they were right for each other, making itself known. She reaches out a hand for him and he walks over, lowering himself onto the bed over her, “You’re beautiful,” she says, smiling softly as she runs her fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his mouth, “So fucking beautiful.” 

He kisses her fiercely, his tongue swiping through her mouth in a way that steals any further conversation from her lungs. She tightens her fingers in his hair and pushes her hips up into his, letting her thighs drift apart so he can lay in the cradle of them. He hides a growl in her skin as he pulls away from the kiss, licking and nipping at her neck as he works his way down her throat and to her collarbone. 

She lifts herself up just enough for his hand to sneak underneath her. He deftly undoes her bra in one attempt and he sits up long enough to pull it off of her, throwing it somewhere over his shoulder into her room. He mutters against her skin as he explores it, words of appreciation lost against her as he sucks a bruise next to the brand mark he’d only ever read about before. 

By the time he’s done, she’s writhing beneath him, her fingers so tight in his hair she thinks she might rip some of it out as she holds him against her breasts, her nipples sore and aching for more of the attention he’d paid them. 

She fights her need to take over, the desire to push him onto the mattress and mount him, because she knows he needs this, he needs to take her apart slowly, to prove to himself something she already knew. So she lays there, lets him kiss down her abdomen, pausing to pay special attention to her scar, his lips and tongue against skin she doesn’t have full sensation in. She can feel it building in her stomach, a spark she knows will soon catch fire, and her condensed sigh turns into a moan as he licks her through her underwear. She looks up at him, resting on her elbows as their eyes meet and she bites her lip as he does it again, taking the opportunity to smell her before he pulls her underwear down her legs, his hands immediately pressing her thighs further apart as he dives back in. 

He groans at the taste of her, at the feel of her thighs tensing in his hands, and he looks up, their eyes meeting again as he continues to lick through her, making note of what draws sounds of her that he knows he’ll never tire of hearing. She looks wrecked, her eyes almost blown black from desire, and he feels proud he’s the one to do this to her, that he’s the one who has done this when he’s barely touched her. He removes one of his hands from her thigh and slips one finger and then another into her, curling them in what he knows is just the right way when a guttural sound escapes her. 

“Fuck, yes,” she groans, her eyes drifting closed for a moment before she opens them again, wanting to maintain eye contact with him, the intensity of it pushing her closer and closer to the edge, “Just like that baby, don’t stop, please.” 

He builds her up, his tongue insistent on her clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of her, her moans and the way she was begging for more, her words getting more and more breathless spurring him on. They only break eye contact when she comes, her head thrown back as she clenches around him, her thighs shaking around his head. Her elbows give way underneath her and she feels the bed dip next to her as he lays over her again, his hand next to her head as he’s careful not to squash her. 

“You okay?”

She opens her eyes and nods, finding herself incapable of being irritated at the self-satisfied grin on his face before she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

“More than okay,” she mutters against his lips, “Sit up by the headboard.”

He nods, kissing her once more before he does what she’s asked. She moves with him, her limbs still a little shaky as she crawls up the bed, sitting next to him once he’s settled. She gets on her knees and kisses him quickly before she pulls back, reaching between his legs and pumping him up and down a few times, the groan he lets out music to her ears. She leans down and licks the tip of him, pressing her thighs together again, already needing more relief, when he thrusts up towards her at the slightest of touches. 

“Sweetheart-”

“I want to,” she says, assuring him before he can say what she knows he’s going to say, the look in his eyes almost feral, “I want to,” she repeats, smiling at him before she leans down again, taking him in her mouth this time, one of her hands at his base, still slowly pumping him, and the other on his thigh to keep her balance. Aaron groans, one of his hands wrapping itself into her hair, holding her in place as he once again thrusts involuntarily. It makes him hit the back of her throat and causes her to gag, something that briefly worries him until she carries on, seemingly spurred on by his enjoyment of it. 

“You’re so fucking good at that,” he says, watching as she bobs up and down on him, moaning around him at the praise, “So good.” 

He feels himself getting closer, so he stops her, the hand in her hair encouraging her upwards, and she frowns as she looks at him, wiping her mouth as he pulls her closer.

“I was enjoying myself,” she says as he encourages her onto his lap, her complaint turning into a moan as he notches against her, making her toll her hips over him again.

“I was too,” he assures her, the soft way he kisses her at odds with the desperation in his grip on her hips, enough to make her know she’ll have bruises in the morning, “But thats not how I want things to end tonight.” 

She nods and leans in to kiss him, biting at his lip as she pulls back, “Next time then.”

He smiles and pushes her hair behind her head, “Next time.”

She reaches between them and lines him up with her. She presses her forehead into his as she sinks down onto him, her moan catching in her chest at the stretch, the pleasant burn she knew she’d feel the moment she first felt him get hard beneath her. 

“Fuck,” he says, his breath stolen from him at the feel of her around him, the tight heat that far surpassed anything he’d imagined whenever he thought about doing this with her. He bands his arms tight around her back, his forehead still against hers, “You feel so good.” 

“You too,” she replies, clenching around him as she tries to encourage him to move, “So good.” 

He thrusts up into her and she rolls her hips, the two of them quickly finding a rhythm, an ease to it that makes her forget this is their first time doing this. She gets lost in it, in him, letting herself memorise the feel of him, all of the ways they were connected. Cataloguing every single detail of what she knew would be her last first time.

She feels the spark in her belly again, her orgasm building quickly, her body so overwhelmed by everything she was feeling physically and emotionally. She cups his cheek and kisses him, “Close.” 

“Me too,” he says, feeling himself lose his rhythm. He reaches between them and rubs at her clit, grunting when she clenches around him again, her hips getting faster and faster as she tumbles over the edge, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as he comes. He feels a familiar tightening in his gut, a sensation that had for so long been something he’d only felt in the shower, his own fist on his skin rougher than hers had been, and he grunts, “Where?” 

“In me,” she replies, her voice ragged, as she places a hand on each of his cheeks, holding his head in place as she says it again, her lips soft against his, “In me, please.” 

He buries his face against her collarbone as he comes, finding solace in the part of her he knows will become one of his favourites. The hollow of skin sure to drive him crazy every time he caught a peek of it across a conference room now he knew how it tasted. 

They take a moment as they come down from their highs, exchanging soft kisses before she climbs off of him, both of them lying down on the bed next to each other. 

“If that’s you letting me down,” she says, desperately trying to catch her breath as she turns her head to look at him, “You can let me down as often as you want.” 

Aaron chuckles and pulls her towards him, his lips against the top of her head as she immediately curls around his side, “I might let you down in the shower if you give me thirty minutes.”

She hides her smile in his chest and looks up at him, catching his chin so she can pull him in for a kiss, “I…I love you.

She doesn’t know she’s going to say it until she has, the words hanging between them for the longest second of her life before he smiles, kissing her fiercely as he rolls them onto the bed, pressing her back into the mattress, stealing away her anxiety and her breath in equal measure. 

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice husky as he kisses her again, “I love you so much.” 

Her response is lost as he kisses down her throat and shifts down her body. She raises an eyebrow at him as she half sits up, watching as he pushes her thighs apart, “What happened to 30 minutes?” 

He smiles devilishly at her, “I need 30 minutes,” he says, dropping a kiss to her belly, “You don’t.” 

Her eyes roll back as he continues to move downwards, and she sighs contentedly. 

Dating him truly was everything she wanted it to be. 

-x-

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[chribby]

pluto in aquarius rambles

Pluto in Aquarius = Power to the People

Pluto = Power

Aquarius = Human, the Water Bearer, rules Groups of people, and demagogues.

I have several predictions based on Pluto in Aquarius. Pluto in Aquarius will be ruled by a Saturn in Pisces when it moves on Jan 20th, 2024... and as we can see, people are receiving reprecussions (Saturn) based on their Beliefs (Pisces)

Previously, I’ve predicted that it would be the Fall of Silicon Valley. In fact, while Pluto was briefly in Aquarius this year, Saturn stationed in Pisces on March 7th (One day before my birthday, lol) and Silicon Valley Bank ended up doing a bank run.

EDIT: 02/23. I just checked. Saturn did go into Pisces 03/07, but Pluto wasn’t in Aquarius until 03/23. I do consider Pluto to rule financial systems, and I do think the Saturn transit did spark the bank run, but I wanted to correct this! I am sorry! Pluto spiked the same bank run on Black Monday 2008, and led to the subprime mortgage crisis. So, Saturn-Pluto, but NOT Pluto in Aquarius. I apologize.

I think it’s fun to use astrology in tandem with what we’re experiencing because as above, so below. But, it’s more fun to be able to recognize the energy that you’re looking at.

So, here’s a little loose list of things that I think will happen during Pluto in Aquarius.

1. Power (Pluto) to the People (Aquarius) = Our reliance on these big corporate structures (Capricorn) will lower and lower, especially as we see ourselves getting punished for speaking about what we believe in. I feel like we will question sources of power, and then look into finding our power within ourselves. I feel like there will be more demagogues lol. But mostly, it will be people turning to their communities.

2. Political Revolutions - Last time Pluto was in Aqua was from 1778-1798 and I swear to god they got that bitch cracking like CRAB LEGS. They had

Irish Rebellion

Settler-Indigenous Wars

Indigenous rebellion against spanish colonization

Haitian Revolution

Northwest Indian War …

Like THEY WASN’T FUCKING PLAYING. So, you already know what time it is. I guess my question is how will the INTERNET play into this?

3. Ass play is about to be as common as kissing in my opinion.

4. Here’s more general predictions lol

cyber crimes, technological terrorism worse than data breaching, pen testing (Pluto = Terrorist activity)

online tombs

cyberpollution

Camgirling is about to change in a new way.

Digital sex work

Digital smut (erotica writers? You’re up)

Digital Decay will be addressed. We will see the first ruined images due to natural jpeg artifact build up

Digital Third Space/Metaverse will be expanded upon. Focusing on a decentralization of both this technology and the need for this “digital third space” will help this from being some terrorist rich kids fantasy.

4. OH AND LIKE I FUCKING SAID. SILICON VALLEY WILL FALL.

5. 3D is up, more focus on 3D. I saw a tweet about that, but I think that a lot of the kids will be more advanced at 3D vs how we as kids went towards digital art? Idk how to make that make sense but yea.

6. Cybertheft. Feels like there is about to be A GLARING VULNERABILITY LOL THAT JUST WENT UNCOVERED UNTIL NOW and it will get EXPLOITED AND TORE TF UP

7. Everybody thinks they’re fuckin Jon Stewart … one thing I haye about us Aquarii we don’t know how to shut the fuck up sometimes…

8. Streamers held the long con enough for people to forget responsible pirating, but this will turn on its head during this transit I think…

9. Looking at the internet….

Pluto rules generations. So pluto in Aquarius will be a new generation. And they will be weird as hell.

Pluto in Scorpio = When World Wide Web was created.

Pluto in Aquarius = WWW Square. And I feel like now, we’re looking at the damages and transformations the internet underwent since the web was created. It feels much more hollow.

I think Pluto Squares tell us how to fix things. Just saying.

This is all I have… for now….

[balanceoflightanddark]

A while back, I outed myself as a Zuko anti. Basically, I admitted that I was left unsatisfied with Zuko's arc and how the comics basically jettisoned any sympathy I had toward him. About how it left me in a pretty dark place emotionally in regards to both him and the franchise as a whole since I saw him as an unrepentant jackass who refused to change yet acted like he's one of the good guys.

And I'll admit, it was part of the reason I was so hesitant to write The Monsters We Create since despite my issues with him, the last thing I wanted to do was turn him into some kind of monster to be butchered. I felt that would be a disservice to both him and his fans. In fact one of the reasons I recently rewatched the series was to get a grip on my feelings towards him and maybe start building bridges.

Well while I can honestly say I'm still not a fan of Zuko...I think I have a better grasp on why.

Mainly, I felt that his arc was left incomplete.

I'm sorry, but Zuko did the exact same thing his father did by exploiting Azula at her worst. Sure his reasons were more understandable, but the Last Agni Kai shouldn't be something that he should be admired for. Especially since he got what he wanted since the first episode when he was a bad guy. It doesn't help that I felt a lot of his bad habits (entitlement, temper, and his toxic rivalry with Azula) were properly addressed. It's why I can't see his crowning as triumphant since the circumstances surrounding it made it feel unearned.

It made me feel that Zuko didn't truly change for the better no matter how hard the fandom or franchise tries to tell me. Something that was exaggerated in the comics which brought all of his flaws to bear yet we were still expected to sympathize with him even when he does stuff that threatens the era of peace he wanted for so long. That deep down, he was still the warmongering prince from Book 1.

Yet for some reason, we're still supposed to see him as a good guy. Which I think is the sticking point. Zuko doesn't put in meaningful change...so the franchise ironically thinks that he doesn't need to meaningfully change. His behavior is okay if he's one of the good guys.

I'm sorry, but I can't imagine that message being good for his character. Zuko can't break out of his awful militaristic upbringing, but apparently that's A-OK. That's not redemption, and that's not good for his character. Hell, it's a pretty awful message to send to anybody who grew up with a bad background or was raised in a militaristic society. They can't change for the better no matter what they do.

It's why I can't see Zuko as the golden standard for redemption arcs. Especially since the franchise and fandom are critical of those who ARE. Like apparently an inability to accept his "transformation" is being stubborn, when really it's seeing what his arc is in the grand scheme of things and not liking it.

What I want for Zuko, what I think anybody wants is for him to truly change. End the rivalry with Azula. Admit he was in the wrong. Do things his old self would never dream of. Actually live up to his own promises and become a wise leader that the Fire Nation needs. Instead, they left his arc hanging with all the nasty implications along with it.

[panvani]

Tokyo districts we've visited RANKED:

14. Akibahara: inhospitable for human life. only place in Tokyo where they not only spelled out why they specifically had 24hr surveillance on escalators but they felt the need to put signs reminding you on every available surface. so many signs telling you to Speak Up if you think someone has been molested. genuinely felt like an insane person there but at least my girlfriend found a Transformer there (we did discover that Akibahara is vastly more approachable when you get off the main roads)

13. Harajuku: this one also felt inhospitable for human life but in like an extreme gentrification way instead of like Literally Not Made For Humans way. very weird walking through THe Clothes District and finding no clothes I wanted. almost all of the food vendors were selling extreme overpriced meme foods but we did find a surprisingly good katsudon place

12. Shibuya: the Scramble ! nowhere else in Tokyo played as much Western music. clothes were either Y4k for some shit that looked like it would disintegrate in 5 days or Y20k for like. some canvas with stains on it. a robot served me a mid as fuck highball

11: Asakusa: It was insanely fucking hot the day we happened to be in Asakusa so maybe I'm not judging it entirely on its own merits but kind of an insane area in which to exist. Very touristy (largely towards people natively from Japan/Tokyo) ergo very expensive. Maybe if we had spent longer there I would have liked it more but for now my most vivid memory is of the rickshaws which my girlfriend pointed out were almost exclusively used by Japanese people

10. Ginza: This was not unexpected in any capacity but everything is so expensive here. Ginza was the only location we visited in urban Japan where we could walk for an hour and not encounter either a vending machine or a convenience store. "Do rich people not need to drink" - my girlfriend

9. Kichijoji: We bought Blue Ham Ham here and then ate at one of those restaurants that lets you pick from a selection of raw eggs to eat with rice which was good as fuck

8. Akasaka: kind of nothing here but bars, office buildings, and an entire block dedicated to Harry Potter so we didn't do anything of note here. Yu Gi Oh Curry !

7. Nagano: Pretty unremarkable except for having a mall full of old stuff but we went to some shitty hole in the wall where we were served by someone my girlfriend described as "definitely transgender" the moment we left the restaurant

6. Shimokitazawa: We saw some cool clothes here and like 15 seconds of an indie band playing in a building. Kind of the most insanely hipstery area in Tokyo by a huge margin like astonishingly so. Only time I saw anything be specifically marketed as vegan in Japan

5. Shinjuku: Shinjuku, or at least my personal experience with Shinjuku, is sort of hard to describe. It was the first district in Tokyo that I'd seen after leaving the airport and it imposes this vision of a city that is incomprehensibly vast and dense. I don't think other districts dispelled this image but Shinjuku is by far the most successful at affirming it

4. Ikebukuro: Kinda like Akibahara lite which makes it a lot more tolerable. I could not stop saying "are you inspired with lust for Irish women yet" any time we encountered a location that was even slightly notable. I don't think either myself or my girlfriend ended up buying anything here but we went to a nice restaurant so it all worked out. There's something charming about the police outposts that seem to be present on every 2 blocks and the number of cameras randomly scattered about

3. Ueno: We rly only saw the zoo here (it was mid) but upon stepping out into Ueno park we discovered a Pakistan-Japan Friendship Festival where we watched some women dance and bought some good as fuck sweets

2. Sumida: Quite cutes :) we spent a lot of time wandering around residential areas which always make me feel way more amiable towards an area. Skytree was cool though I probably wouldn't pay for it again. Katsushika Hokusai museum was very cool.

1. Jimbocho/Ochanomizu: We went to the Museum of Modern Art in Tokyo and walked around for 1 million years looking at books and posters and various other items and got some lovely coffee. Wonderful place

SPECIAL MENTION: Chiba: I got a really bad sunburn here

[mayaperisic]

From someone who read Azriel’s POV bonus chapter without having read any of the ACOTAR books beforehand:

Couple of months ago I stumbled upon Azriel’s POV bonus chapter and I have no idea how or why because I hadn’t yet started reading the books. I had some basic knowledge of the story and the characters thanks to TikTok and it was probably one of the ship war videos that made me search for the bonus chapter because I was intrigued what the heck was going on that was making everyone go to war over. So, I read the bonus chapter without being influenced by liking one ship or the other, just wanted to see why everyone was fussing over Azriel.

The first part of the bonus chapter with Azriel and Elain made me SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE. I read a lot of smutty books and dark romances so sex talk is not something I shy away from. But the way that scene was written made me physically uncomfortable and not just because of Azriel’s thoughts, but Elain’s behaviour also. I can’t explain it, but both of them felt so cringy. I kept reading because I wanted to understand the fuss over the other part of the bonus chapter but if I had to decide on entering the world of ACOTAR based on that first part I would have thrown it in the trash. Needless to say I was super happy when Rhys interrupted them.

And then came the second part of the bonus chapter with Gwyn and oh my God but what a change. Azriel transformed from a creep (sorry but that was the vibe he was giving me in the beginning) to romance books hero in 2 paragraphs just by changing the scenery and the female protagonist. His scene with Gwyn felt so genuine and warm and just like he felt something restless settling inside him I felt all of the uncomfortable feelings leaving me from the first part of the chapter to give room to this warmth I felt for the 2 of them. And then for me it was pretty obvious that the author was telling the readers: this is his girl. The scene, the way it is written, the words used for the training scene but also at the end in the library, for me it was pretty damn obvious they were gonna be a couple. And then I understood that the first part of the bonus chapter was supposed to make us feel uncomfortable so we could see the contrast with the second part, literally obviously saying: The first girl ain’t it. The second girl is who you should be looking at.

So all of this without having read the books. And no, I’m not lying about it. I’m 27 and have better things to do than make stuff up for a ship war.

And then I read the books and entered the SJM world (TOG, ACOTAR, CC) and I was super confused with all of the E/riel fans and their theories and arguments that made me question whether we read the same books. I saw no ‘build-up for 4 books’ (which he spent mostly in love with Mor), sure little cute moments here and there but without that bonus chapter I would have even said Azriel looked at Elain as a little sister to protect. The bonus chapter only told me he has deep personal trauma to heal. Sorry but the fact that he hadn’t thought about a future with Elain but just sex is no way in hell romantic. So, 4 books of build-up led to, well, that? And the fact that Elain was willing to kiss another guy in the same house where her mate was sleeping (whom she hasn’t rejected yet) doesn’t speak volumes of her either, only that she also has a lot of stuff to deal with.

When Sarah in her interview said that she thought it was pretty obvious about who the next book will be and that she left breadcrumbs in the bonus chapter, for me it was pretty obvious it would be Gwyn and Az (I felt that literally by having read only the bonus chapter before the books). All of their little moments in ACOSF, how Sarah wanted us to pay attention to their reactions to one another, left no room for doubt in my mind, just like I saw it instantly with 2 glances the first time Nessian met, and I felt the chemistry right away.

I could go on ‘till tomorrow but probably should stop here. Just had to write this out of genuine confusion at how people try to deny the obvious (literally what Sarah said) by using theories and arguments that only show they probably haven’t even read ACOSF or other SJM books, because she couldn’t be more obvious than that with her writing.

P.S. This feels the same like when season 1 of The Vampire Diaries aired and I instantly knew Damon and Elena were it. Didn’t even need proof, just had a gut feeling. And Stelena fans then were also aggressively explaining there was no way Delena would be a thing much less endgame, but oh, guess which ship won in the end?

[sweet7simple]

A dratchrod mechpreg headcanon or thought you have?

🥹 My first Transformers prompt. Thank you.

My ideas of mechpreg are heavily inspired by other writers, especially Exdraghunt's "Baby Blues" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51292837/chapters/129600418), which gave me the idea that a developing bitlet constantly needs resources (like building materials, circuitry, fuel, etc...) while forged, and those resources are, to some extent, supplied by transfluid. So a healthy carrier is a carrier receiving lots of transfluid from their partner(s).

(Fun fact! This isn't that unusual. In nature, we have insects that provide nutritious nuptial gifts (food) to their ladies before, during, or after mating - and sometimes the nuptial gift is a whole wad of spermatophore. That's the sperm plus a protein-rich structure to help the sperm travel. While the sperm is traveling through the lady, she is munching down on the rest of the spermatophore and getting all those tasty healthy benefits. Remember, kids, when the male puts the gift straight in the lady's reproductive tract, that is called a seminal gift.)

This is a lot of backstory, but I really love reproductive biology. What I am getting at here is that a carrier having more than one mate is very healthy and doctor-recommended (and by doctor, I don't mean JUST Ratchet. Other doctors also recommend it).

Now, personal headcanons: Rodimus would absolutely give his life to protect his bytes and he is absolutely the fun creator. He would love his bitlets with all his spark, he would face the DJD all over again for them. But he's not the carrier (I go feral for carrier Rodimus, but hear me out). He has this idea that to be a carrier is to sacrifice, and he's willing to sacrifice, but it's not in a cute, "I'm willing to constantly overheat, lag, upset my center of gravity and put untold strain on my strut frame because it's going to be worth it for that special carrier-sparkling connection!"

No, he means sacrifice in the sense that, "No one ACTUALLY wants to be a carrier, someone just has to do it and it might as well be me so that you two don't have to deal with it."

To which Ratchet responds, "Is that what your carrier told you?"

"Yeah?"

And Ratchet says, "Good to know, we're gonna have to talk about that."

So Rodimus isn't the carrier - not the first time around. The second time around is a different story once he sees what a healthy carrier-sparkling connection is really like.

Ratchet is also not the carrier. He did have a healthy relationship with his carrier, and he does want to carry, but he's also suffering from frame fatigue and joint pain. He's stubborn and saying he can handle it, but a second opinion from First Aid reveals that Ratchet is at high risk of carrier-related brittle strut disease - if he carries, the struts of his pelvic girdle and lower spinal column could become very weak and even break. Not only that, but he is very likely to develop high fuel pressure, which can lead to clogs and then tank damage, which can lead to burning out his batteries and then we're talking spark issues...

So Ratchet loses that argument rather grumpily.

Which makes Drift the carrier. He's terrified, mind you. Last he saw his own carrier and sires, they were being arrested and carted off. Drift doesn't even remember what they were arrested for. As an assassin, he went looking for them. He found two death records for one sire and his carrier, a warrant for another sire that went missing from the mining colony he had been assigned to, and the third sire was trapped in a prison cell, barely functioning and unable to recognize his own sparkling.

Growing up on the streets of Polyhex, losing himself to drug addiction in Dead End, being an assassin, rising through the ranks of the Deception faction, constantly fighting for his life - Drift doesn't feel prepared to be a carrier. He barely feels worthy of it. But he wants it so damn bad that when Ratchet and Rodimus ask if he's sure, what comes out is a small, desperate, "Please."

It's a mix of his faith and his mates that get him through the forging. He is just so anxious every step of the way.

First, he is scared that he won't get sparked. Well, Primus, the first Carrier, the Life Bringer, their Creator, must be smiling down upon him (hah), because he's sparked within the first three cycles of having his crucible uncapped. It's practically instantaneous. It helps that his mates are eager to see him carry.

Then he is scared that something will go wrong. There will be a glitch in the forging programs, there will be a malfunction with his equipment, the sparkling will go cold inside of him - somehow, he is going to lose this bitlet.

He doesn't, though. He meditates a lot and fuels constantly and charges often. He receives plenty of transfluid loads from his mates. Every checkup with First Aid ends well - his bitlet is doing great and so is he. Everything's wonderful.

He is overheating constantly, sometimes loses track of conversations due to lagging (the forging programs take up a lot of processing space, okay?), and also loses his balance if he moves too fast due to his unstable center of gravity. He gets dizzy from increased fuel flow, is constantly hungry, and also constant tired because his bitlet is practically sucking his batteries dry. His spark is engorged, which is the strangest feeling he has ever experienced - like it is swollen and also somehow sweating boiling-hot perspiration.

But not for a single moment does he wish he wasn't forged. Not for a single moment does he regret getting sparked by his mates. He could do without the uncomfortable parts of carrying, but there is something so beautiful about knowing that a new life is being constructed inside of him, that this new life is a part of him and Ratchet and Rodimus. He feels like he's part of something truly sacred, it's the closest he has ever been to the First Carrier, the Creator of Life.

It doesn't hurt that he's receiving transfluid from his mates almost every cycle, which feels a lot like worship when Ratchet and Rodimus look at him like that (like he is the miracle, like what he is doing is a miracle, like he's beautiful, like he is unbelievably desirable).

Around the 2nd construction quarter (of 4), his sparkling sends it's first ping.

Drift is shocked. He's walking through the cafeteria one klik and, the next, someone is helping him sit down after he practically crashes into a table.

He's barley aware of the mechs around him as he cautiously pings back. His sparkling pings back again!

"Oh, Primus," he says, and pings back.

This is the fabled carrier-sparkling connection he keeps getting told about. It's a direct comm line between him and the bitlet inside of him, but his bitlet is extremely limited on the information they can send. They don't understand language yet and have no concept of images, or the ability to process them.

So his byte pings constantly. Drift pings back almost every time unless he's recharging. Rodimus is amazed at his patience.

"I want it to know that I'm here and I'm listening. Always. Even if it has nothing to say yet."

There is something raw and hurt and needy in Rodimus's expression.

Drift tilts his helm. "That isn't what your carrier did for you, was it?"

Rodimus ducs his helm. Instead of speaking to Drift, he gets on his knees, presses his face against his torso plates, and speaks to the bitty inside of him about how much Rodimus loves it and all the fun adventures they're going to have.

Drift strokes Rodimus's helm and his spoiler, leaning back against the nearest wall. It's a good cycle. A healing cycle.

Rodimus even starts getting a little jealous that Drift can "talk" to their bitty and he can't (but it's in a funny, pouty way).

As his bit develops, Drift gets little pings and bursts of color and sometimes an emotion. He gets garbled recordings of voices around the third construction quarter and he starts keening.

"What? What's wrong?" Rodimus is full-on panicking.

Ratchet is already manually pulling open his port panel so he can connect in and run diagnostics.

But then Drift is laughing, shooing his mates away. "Our byte knows what you both sound like." He is keen-laughing somehow. "You sound ridiculous."

They all sound ridiculous to his bitlet, he learns, garbled and unclear. But his bitlet loves being talked to, even if it doesn't understand what they're saying. It's scared whenever Ratchet bark-laughs (which Drift and Rodimus find hilarious), but it falls asleep to the sound of Ratchet reading. It gets all excited whenever Rodimus tells stories and thinks it's funny whenever Rodimus makes silly noises at him. It pings waves of peace when Drift sings to it.

At the end of the fourth quarter plus some cycles, Drift ejects a healthy, pill-shaped silver protoform. The birth metal is hot and the protoform slowly unfolds its arms, legs, helm, and spoiler to reveal a tiny, gorgeous byte. It takes cycles for pigment to develop and no one is surprised to see a bright red coat with white and gold accents.

The byte's armor plates are soft and malleable for most of his development and his diet is rich in liquid or sprinkled Cybertronian metal so that his armor will grow thick and strong.

He's a rambunctious, somewhat feral byte that is driving Ratchet up a wall with his antics and who is making Rodimus so proud he can barely contain himself, and he is so, so loved.

Their byte is still soft-shelled, not having reached full maturity, when Rodimus suggests one night in the berth, "Sooo... Thoughts on having another one?"

Ratchet grunts, already halfway to recharge. "Drift needs to recover before we pop another bitlet in his crucible."

"First Aid told me I shouldn't carry again for at least another or" Drift agreed sadly. He loved carrying.

"Actually, I was thinking... Maybe it could be my turn? To carry, that is. I don't know, Drift made it look fun."

Ratchet is suddenly fully awake and staring straight at Rodimus, who is trying to stare back in a way that shows this isn't a big deal and it's not a weird or out of character request, really.

"Do you really want to?" Ratchet asks, gaze piercing. "You have to be honest with us."

"Would you, Roddy?" Drift asks, servo stroking over Rodimus's torso plates. "Would you carry our bitlet for us?"

Rodimus looks back at them and says softly, desperately, "Please."

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter Four

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

TRIGGER WARNING : Mention of sa (🍇), and graffic description of violence. At the second paragraph of Ashley. You are warned

Tonight was a normal one like every others. Same routine, same job. Except this night you were paired up with the “legendary Soldier Boy”.

Joint at the mouth, gun at hand, you couldn’t deny he looked incredibly good. If he wasn't such a dumbass and an assho-

“What did you say?” Ben turned to look at you with an intrigued expression on his already high looking face.

“I said nothing, the fuck you on?”

“Alright sweethearth lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you.” He said before taking a little puff. Who the hell does he thinks he is to talk to you this way?

“Alright, do you even know what we're about to do to act this way? Cause you seem clueless big Guy.” You were already over it with his attitude. For God's sake you were about to kill Shockwave. The guy assaulted three women repeatedly, and since the authorities weren't doing something, you would bring justice to his victims.

“Mind telling me again doll?” Ben said with a smirk. God he looked good. Not in a “I want a Quick fuck with you” way but more of a “I wouldn't mind Building a life with you” kind. He made you feel safe, I mean he’s a supe of course. But knowing he almost killed Homelander was sort of reassuring. She felt like she could breathe with a man like that. If you put aside his crimes, his old viens, and the trauma he comes along with. Oh no, you were lost in your thoughts again. Focus Y/n, it’s a life or death situation, not a dating one.

“Alright uhm, we have to eliminate Shockwaves and dissipate his remains. That’s my part. First, I’ll- hold on. Didn’t I tell you like ten minutes ago?”

“Yeah sorry, I’m just messing with you”He said while laughing.

Oh he was messing with you. You really hated when people did that, reminding you of your high school years. Sure, he probably didn't mean it in a mean way but it always made you feel self conscious. Like you were too dumb to get jokes.

You sudden quietness, made Soldier Boy confused. He heard you were quite the talkative person. Why were you so quiet? Did his joke offend you or something? Women and their times of the month, hormones fucking up everything. Tell you what, if it was his decision to make only, he wouldn’t such a sweet doll on the field like that. Too beautiful and pure to be messed up by war and fights.

It wasn’t the first time he saw you. He often saw you follow him throughout his missions. You always thought he didn’t notice you, but instead of you keeping an eye on him, it was him that was keeping an eye on you. He always made sure no one followed you, always breaking every security cameras. The first time you stalked him, he asked Butcher about you. He told Ben that you were a villain, a new set of toys for Vought to play with. You were unconsciously controlled by them, made to push fear into the population. Making them yearn for a bright hero to save them, salvage them.

Your abilities were simple, you could control atoms. Make them turn solid, liquid, into gaz, transform them, break them in half for energy, really anything. But, like every villains you had many weakness. Using those powers costed you a lot of energy. Not nuclear type of energy, just good old human energy. You could days on end if you pushed yourself too far. If you were his, he'd make sure you'd be at home, cooking, taking naps, and just being a happy little wife. Maybe one day who knows. Maybe one day

Ashley was at home when she injected the V. Her bones broke, her skin teared, her hair all grew back at once and her eyes were bloodshot. She was now on the floor, her breathing barely there. Tears kept making their way down her pale cheeks, just like the rain droplets on her window. She couldn’t move much, so she just laid there looking at them. Despite the pain, it was almost peaceful.

The lighting was warm and low, the sound of the raging storm outside along with her laboured breath and her tears hitting the floor were making her more and more sleepy. Maybe she could take a nap. Her fligjt was in three days after all and she took a one week long vacation months ago.

It was planned a long time ago, the fleeing I mean. After what happened between her and The Deep, she could barely get out of bed.

Why did he do that?

“Alright, we have to be really quiet ok. If he hears us we're fuc-”

*She wants that laffy taffy, that kiss Kiss kiss kiss-”

Your phone was ringing. Did Florence changer your alarm again?

“Fuck, hello?”

Ben had to take deep breaths not to laugh. What kind of goofy pussies would put that as an alarm and expect people not to laugh? It sounded like something the cum guzzler would do. Oh yeah, he probably has some lame ass phone ring.

“Hey,hey,hey, what do you mean a distraction?”

“Fuck,fuck,fuckkkk, we’ll be there in five ok o-o-or even less alright” You stopped the call and turned towards Ben.

“We have to go to the ‘Flat Iron Building’. That’ where your team is, do you know where it is?” You were becoming more and more agitated by the minute. Apparently the whole Shockwave allegations were false, and made to be a distraction for a Vought operation at the building where The Boys resides.

“Hey slow down angel, what's going on?” Ben knew one thing at that moment. If something dangerous was coming, he wouldn't be caught dead not protecting you. For some reasons, he was attracted to you like a magnet. Almost like a gravitational pull. But whatever it was, he wouldn't lose it. It grounded him, reminded him hewasnX't in Russia anymore.

Martin was one thing and one thing only at that moment. Stressed the hell out. If Vought happened to stumble on the files about them they would be dead in the next hour. He couldn't let that happen. No. His daughter wouldn't go through that.

Martin was aware of how it felt to live with an absent father. He would and will fight without anything stopping him to make sure Janine could live the best life.

And if that meant he had to flee the country or betray Butcher, the choice would be easy regardless.

It was 10 pm when Ashley finally broke out of her transe. Forehead covered in sweat, head pulsing like a heart, she went to take a shower. She felt so happy to be able to wash her hair again. To be able to put shampoo and conditioner on them and then let her hands brush through them. After that, she did her nightly routine before going towards her bedroom.

There, she started packing a few things for her great departure. Passport and essentials. She wasn't bringing her phone, her clothes or any cards with her. Cash only. She’d buy a new phone and clothes in Berne. She was scared Vought might have put airtags in her clothes. She saw them do it to even the most insignificant employe like the guy at the coffee shop in the building. So why would she be spared?

“Going somewhere Ash?”

That voice.

No.

Not again.

Ashley lunged at The Deep and the fight started.

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE YOU FISH FUCKER! I WASN'T AWARE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?” A hit.”

“I WAS DRUNK AND HIGH OUT OF MY MIND! YOU RAPED ME YOU DISGUSTING FUCK! FUCK YOU KEVIN FUCK YOU YOU BASTARD” She screamed while beating him to death. She suddenly let out the loudest, most primal, guttural scream he heard. And in an instant, Kevin was gripping his ears, under the mercy of an unbearable pain. His ears, his eyes started bleeding. Ashley screamed louder and louder while punching him like a gorilla.

“STOP” Down. Up. Down. And up. his legs were broken, bones poking out like branches

“ASHLEY PLEASE I'M SORRY” Down. And up. And down. And up. Ashley felt euphoric, like she was freeing herself from years of pain. Kevin Torso broke under the hits, a rib stabbing his hearth.

“Ashley, please…” his face was now pale, his mouth pooling of the scarlet liquid. Then suddenly, nothing.

Ashley killed The Deep.

Ashley killed her rapist. With her own hands and voice.

Justice was finally served.

When Y/n entered the Flat Iron Building, she smelled the compound V. Actual compound V. Not temp V, not the thing flowing through the Supe Busters veins. No, real, fresh compound V.

Oh how she could recognize that one. She had been tracking that one for a while now. Along with Soldier Boy of course. Ben was a side quest, something to occupy her free time. But that one? Tek Night? Now that was another thing. She had been careful with that one. After all, his senses were extremely heightened.

She had her smell covered, Florence bending the light for her to be invisible, her sounds also muffled by the latter. So to know she finally had a chance to end him, she was more than ecstatic. He was a violent, racist piece of shit. He had caused multiple tragedies by accusing the wrong people, exploding things left and right, abusing both men and women. The whole abuse thing was common in the supe community. That's why Vought protected them so much. Can't really sell the whole hero narrative if 90% of your “heroes” have sexual assault cases uh?

Pulling yourself out of your thought you signalled Ben to go before you. After all he had super strength, not you. You needed someone to distract the guy while pulling out the compound V.

Walking up one stair at a time, shield at one hand and gun in the other, Ben was ready to attack. When they arrived at the right floor, Ben put you at a safe distance before opening the door. There, he saw Tek Knight looking out the windows.

“I heard you miles down, you aren't very subtle you kn-” He was cut off by an unending agony. It was spreading through his head, hands, legs, everywhere.

“HEY HEY HEY STOP IT URGH..W-WE CAN T-TALKK”

“I don't speak to supes .” You said before ripping the V out of his body. You turned it to the simples thing : water.

“NO PLEASE PLEASE” He didn't know what he was begging for, but seeing how Soldier Boy was walking forward slowly like a predator at his prey, he knew he was dead.

And he was. Ben put the gun at his belt, took the shield with both hands and crashed it agaisnt his skull. His bones made a loud cracking noise. And Ben repeated the action four times. You were now in charge of putting the body away. That wasn't hard. You simply turned him into air. No traces. No evidence. No suspect.

Just panic that would surge in a few days.

A/n : I wrote this as best as I could, again leave 10 notes in order to have the fifth chapter, hoped yall liked it😊

@demodemo909 @weaponxgames