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soullessdianthus · 2 years ago

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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C �� Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )

Word count: 1.8k

The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.

You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water.

Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck.

He could be such a gentleman sometimes.

A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear.

There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.

But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?

━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear?

Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.

The Colonel.

Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission.

Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates.

You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home.

As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry.

Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.

━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest.

━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]

━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor.

━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want?

He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes?

A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.

━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking.

━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in.

The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.

As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum.

━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]

Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?

Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager.

━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?

You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.

━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace.

Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward.

━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?

You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed?

“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it.

You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all.

Fuck.

But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.

You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like:

━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!]

Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse.

If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no.

You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.

König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable?

Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family.

Until now.

His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?

The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.

━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.

Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion.

━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken.

━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken.

There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up.

━ Y/C, we’re moving.

The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns.

━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home.

Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood.

Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?

━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.

But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.

A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪

#reader insert #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #konig x reader

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rafry · 10 months ago

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Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

#gravity falls #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #bill cipher #gravity falls analysis #bill cipher meta #bill cipher angst #euclydia #analysis #character analysis #rafry #rafry rambles

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yuwuta · 1 year ago

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JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn…..

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words.

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)

#anonymous #nanami kento.......................................... god #also yuuji :((((( just a kid who wanted to do something nice for his grandpa I will CRY #immediate proposal when he gets home to you who does he think he is? yuuta?#speaking of yuuta he's like the best player his age and he's always asked to attend events or parties or whatever #and he's always like ah no thank you I am going home to my girlfriend #every fucking interview it's like yeah I love tennis but I love my girlfriend more for supporting and encouraging me #my girlfriend my girlfriend my girlfriend #one day he actually seems Excited to be doing his press conference and a journalist picks up on it to which yuuta happily raises his hand #and lets everyone know that he's now engaged. and very very grateful for his wife #he does the same shit a few years later like randomly during a press conference he's like #'I am kinda nervous. my baby didn't sleep well last night so I was up with him pretty late' and everyone's like BABY?#and yuutas like yeah! he's almost 14 months now do u wanna see him!#let me stop bringing kids into this bc w/ satoru and kento I could go on for hours....#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #yuuta x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #nanami kento x reader #once u asked megumi what he thinks about when he's practicing and he's so deadpan as he reloads and arrow #and right before he lets it go he's like 'ur ex boyfriend' and then hits the target dead in the center LMFAO #olympics au

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lovings4turn · 1 year ago

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𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — send in someone i write for + a prompt(s) and i'll write a lil blurb

oscar piastri + going in for a kiss and either bumping noses or foreheads!!!!

steph this is so fucking oscar coded it's actually mind-blowing to me omg ,,, thanks so much for sending this in sweetheart , loved writing it <333

is it possible to face medical complications from enduring an excessive amount of excitement? you’re sure you’re about to find out.

because oscar, your oscar, has just won his first formula one grand prix, and your heart is fit to burst with pride. so many years of hard work, long nights and early mornings, and determination have finally paid off. on top of that, you’re lucky enough to be there to finally witness the fruits of his labour.

when he clambers out of the car, face still obscured by his racing helmet, you can picture the beaming smile hidden beneath, brighter than the sun currently beaming down onto the racetrack.

along with the rest of his team, you’ve rushed over to the pitlane, secured a spot front and centre to bear witness to his adrenaline fuelled celebration, his fist pumping the air with a vigour you’ve never seen him possess.

despite the chaos going on around him, oscar’s eyes instantly dart to you, somehow able to pinpoint you in the crowd of people shouting his name and whooping.

he wastes no time.

within seconds, oscar is right in front of you, tugging his helmet and balaclava from his head before pulling you into a tight hug. you’re babbling, spewing a jumbled speech littered with praise and congratulations, yet oscar looks at you like you’re reciting poetry.

perhaps it’s the excitement, or the camera inches away from his face, but when oscar leans in to press a celebratory kiss to your lips, he misses. instead of lips meeting, his nose bumps your own, the movement clumsy yet endearing.

the both of you groan, and all oscar can do is laugh. of course his first race win would be eclipsed by his inability to land a kiss to his girlfriend’s lips.

lando will never let him live this down, especially not when the whole ordeal has been caught on camera; oscar just thanks god that his overtaking today was far smoother than his attempt to initiate a kiss.

he’s rushed off quickly after for his post race interview and podium ceremony, and through his hazy cloud of excitement, you’re still at the forefront of his mind.

so yeah, he may have fumbled this celebration, but god, will he make it up to you later.

#𑁤 becca’s 1k fright fest !#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri fluff #op81 #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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heliza24 · 1 year ago

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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.

I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.

I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.

I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.

There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.

I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.

So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:

They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.

They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.

They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.

I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.

I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)

I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.

#interview with the vampire amc #interview with the vampire #iwtv #daniel molloy #armandaniel #devils minion #louis de pointe du lac #armand #my meta #my crip media reviews #devil’s minion

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eldar-of-zemlya · 3 months ago

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To Boldly Sew: The Creation of Star Trek's Iconic Wardrobe

Gene Roddenberry’s arguments with NASA, costumes crafted from shower curtains, male characters in miniskirts, and why the gold command uniforms were actually green—this is the story of Star Trek’s groundbreaking wardrobe and the visionary work of the man behind it, Bill Theiss.

If you’d like to read the formatted article with easily accessible references, you can also find it on AO3.

During the production of the original Star Trek, the creative team faced numerous challenges, the most persistent being, unsurprisingly, the show’s limited budget. These restrictions had a significant impact on many aspects of the series, including one of its most crucial visual elements: the wardrobe.

Each week, the costume department was tasked with creating original outfits for the show’s characters. Alien civilizations had to look distinct and believable without distracting from the storyline—all while staying within a tight budget. To achieve this, the team employed clever tricks, such as repurposing and dyeing old uniforms, turning garments inside out, and even fashioning costumes from unconventional materials like vinyl shower curtains.

"Sometimes a show will call for 30 or 40 costumes," explained Star Trek’s costume designer William "Bill" Theiss. "And since we film back to back, that means I have to design, get approval from the producers and director, and construct the costumes in six to eight days." [Source]

Commander Spock and Lieutenant Tormohlen don "protective suits" fashioned from shower curtains as they investigate the mysterious death of a mannequin crew member. (Season 1, Episode 4, "The Naked Time.")

Theiss was a key figure in shaping the visual identity of Star Trek’s universe. Over the course of the show’s three seasons, he designed costumes for a wide range of characters, from blue-skinned Andorians to the infamous Orion slave girls, and even the Nazi-inspired inhabitants of the planet Ekos. (Interestingly, the episode Patterns of Force, featuring Ekos, was banned from German television until 1995 due to its controversial themes.) [Source]

Theiss first met Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry while Roddenberry was developing the show’s pilot. At the time, Theiss had gained attention for his innovative work on the science fiction play The Veldt, based on Ray Bradbury’s short story of the same name. This caught the eye of Star Trek writer Dorothy Catherine Fontana, who introduced Theiss to Roddenberry. By then, Roddenberry had already interviewed over a dozen costume designers but had yet to find someone who could bring his vision to life. Theiss’s creative approach, which often involved crafting unique costumes from unconventional materials, immediately resonated with Roddenberry. Their collaboration would continue for decades, even though, amusingly, Theiss never learned how to sew. [Source]

After the original Star Trek series was canceled, Theiss and Roddenberry remained close collaborators, working together on various projects until Roddenberry’s passing in 1991.

Left: William Theiss adjusts Susan Oliver's costume on the set of the 1965 pilot episode, "The Cage."

Right: William Theiss and Leonard Nimoy on the set of Season 2, Episode 26, "Assignment: Earth" (1968).

When designing Star Trek’s now-iconic multi-colored uniforms, Roddenberry drew inspiration from the color-coded uniforms used on American naval vessels, where quick role recognition was essential in low-visibility environments. As a former military pilot during World War II and later a police officer, Roddenberry had firsthand experience with structured, hierarchical organizations. These influences shaped not only Star Trek’s command structure but also its visual design. [Source]

Each division was assigned a distinct color: engineers, communications officers, and security personnel wore red; medical staff and scientists were dressed in blue; and command officers wore—believe it or not—green. (But more on that later.) All uniforms were paired with dark ash-colored trousers and high boots.

Star Trek is not typically associated with realism, which makes it surprising to learn that NASA was involved in the show’s production, offering advice to ensure it was "scientifically believable." Among their suggestions was the idea that 23rd-century astronauts might wear form-fitting jumpsuits. However, Gene Roddenberry dismissed the concept, humorously referring to the design as “long underwear.”

NBC, on the other hand, had entirely different priorities. The network insisted that female Starfleet officers wear more revealing attire, a demand that clashed with Roddenberry’s vision of a future where women were treated as equals to men. In the first pilot episode, The Cage (1965), Roddenberry boldly dressed female characters in pants—an unconventional choice for 1960s television. However, after much debate with the network, a compromise was reached: miniskirts. Highly fashionable at the time, they were paired with shorts and dark tights, blending contemporary trends with Star Trek’s futuristic aesthetic. [Source]

Captain Pike and a group of serious women in pants protect the heroine from an ass-headed very wise alien. The first pilot of Star Trek, "The Cage" (1965).

Years later, when NBC faced accusations of sexism and objectifying women, Nichelle Nichols, who played Uhura, defended the wardrobe choice in a BBC interview. She explained that the miniskirts weren’t unusual or inappropriate for the era:

“I was wearing them on the street. What's wrong with wearing them in the air? I wore 'em on airplanes. It was the era of the miniskirt. Everybody wore miniskirts.” [Source]

Grace Lee Whitney, who portrayed Janice Rand, echoed Nichols’s sentiment, adding that she “didn't think the women should be in pants” and that she wanted to “look like Flash Gordon” on screen. [Source]

Meanwhile, costume designer Bill Theiss had his own, more subtle approach to creating “revealing” costumes.

“He felt that revealing non-sexual flesh (the outside of the leg, off one shoulder, the back) promised that the viewer would see more — but they never did,” explained screenwriter D.C. Fontana, citing the gown worn by Lt. Palamas in Who Mourns for Adonais? as a prime example. [Source]

Lieutenant Palamas's "ancient Greek" dress from the episode "Who Mourns for Adonais?" alongside William Theiss's original sketch for the design.

When designing the original Star Trek uniforms, Theiss was tasked with creating something that reflected military influences while also looking futuristic and remaining inexpensive to produce. His approach was practical:

“As for where I get my ideas from… well, I don’t get them from my dreams or anything. Mainly, I get them from fabric that I see that’s available; I look for interesting patterns in the material itself,” Theiss once explained. [Source]

For the first two seasons, the Star Trek uniforms were made from velour, a newly invented fabric that was cheap, easy to maintain, and had an appealing sheen under studio lights. However, velour had its drawbacks: it tore easily (as evidenced by Captain Kirk’s frequent shirt-ripping battle scenes...) and shrank significantly after dry cleaning. Since the costumes had to be cleaned after every episode, viewers may notice that the uniforms became progressively tighter throughout the first two seasons. By the third season, velour was replaced with double-knit nylon, a more durable fabric used in professional baseball uniforms.

Left: Kirk's velour shirt from Season 1, Episode 10, "The Corbomite Maneuver." Right: The same shirt in Season 2, Episode 22, "By Any Other Name." Shatner is diligently sucking in his stomach.

This brings us to another interesting aspect of the original velour uniforms—their appearance on screen.

“It was one of those film stock things,” Theiss explained. “It photographed one way—burnt orange or gold. But in reality, it was another; the command shirts were definitely green.” [Source]

So, what color was Captain Kirk's uniform really? In truth, Kirk's uniform—like the rest of the command crew's—was olive green. However, under the bright studio lighting and the quirks of 1960s film stock, it appeared gold on screen. The greener hue becomes more noticeable in scenes filmed on location with natural light. The difference is also evident in photos of the original uniforms on display, such as those taken at an exhibit in Detroit, USA. In one image, taken under dimmer lighting without flash, the fabric looks closer to its true green color; in another, taken with flash, it appears more golden.

Left: Kirk's velour shirt photographed without flash—olive green. Right: Kirk's velour shirt photographed with flash—yellow gold.

This might come as a surprise to Star Trek fans, but it makes sense when you consider that Kirk's alternate uniforms—the wrap-around tunic and dress uniform—were distinctly green. This wasn’t an intentional design difference; those variations were simply made from a different fabric that didn’t react to light the way velour did.

“The problem is that a lot of my work is seen on screen for only two to three seconds, and even then, it might be in bad light or at a bad angle,” Theiss noted. “But then, you can't really justify taking two hours to light and block a scene just to showcase a costume.” The play's the thing, according to Theiss. "That's what it's really all about. It's not about the costumes." [Source]

The color discrepancy of the uniforms became an interesting challenge when animators began working on Star Trek: The Animated Series in 1973. They had to decide whether to depict the uniforms in their originally intended green or the gold shade that had become iconic to audiences.

At the time of Star Trek's release, many viewers were watching on black-and-white televisions, making it impossible for them to discern the true colors of the uniforms. At the Kirk/Spock convention, @kiscon, I spoke to a longtime Trek fan who told me she had no idea what color the uniforms were when she first watched the show as a teen. For those fortunate enough to see the series in color, however, the command uniforms became strongly associated with yellow. As a result, changing the uniforms to their intended green in Star Trek: The Animated Series would likely have confused audiences who had grown accustomed to the gold appearance on screen.

Ultimately, the gold uniform was canonized in The Animated Series and used in all fan materials until the release of the Star Trek feature films. Meanwhile, the trousers—whose color had also been slightly distorted on film—remained their original dark ash shade.

Because of these discrepancies, fans often debate which version of the uniform to follow when cosplaying or creating visual content. Many cosplayers choose to replicate the original olive-colored velour, trusting that proper lighting will naturally recreate the golden appearance seen on screen. Others opt for the now-iconic gold shade, reflecting the way the uniform has been depicted in official materials for decades.

Star Trek: The Animated Series (1973).

Ironically, NASA was right in its assumption that jumpsuits would become the norm for astronauts, and Roddenberry was forced to use them in the first feature-length Star Trek film, 1979's Star Trek: The Motion Picture. The multi-colored shirts were rejected by the studio as too garish, and the miniskirts worn by Uhura and most of the female crew members were already considered a relic of the sexist 1960s by 1979.

William Theiss, who designed the costumes for the original series, was too busy with other projects to work on the film, so Gene Roddenberry brought in a new costume designer, Robert Fletcher, who created the Starfleet uniforms now remembered as the worst in the franchise's history. In an effort to avoid comparisons to military uniforms, the studio opted for muted tones ranging from pale blue to dirty beige and nude shades. The result? The Enterprise crew looked more like spa staff than starship officers, and some background extras in nude-tone bodysuits appeared practically naked on screen. Not only did these uniforms make it impossible to distinguish the characters' ranks and departments, but they were also surprisingly impractical. The suits were sewn onto the actors' shoes, meaning they needed an assistant every time they went to the bathroom.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979).

Luckily for us all, in the next film, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982), it wasn’t just Khan who was filled with rage—the cast themselves rebelled and outright refused to wear the dreadful jumpsuits again.

Despite the failure of his design, Robert Fletcher remained as costume designer for the next three films, promising changes. In Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, the uniforms returned to a more military style, with the lead actors wearing maroon jackets with overlapping lapels that they could dramatically unbutton if their character was meant to look tired or stressed. If you look closely, you’ll notice that these maroon uniforms were actually redyed and slightly modified versions of the jumpsuits from The Motion Picture. The reason for the maroon color? It was the best shade that worked with the existing fabric from the first film. [Source]

William Theiss, reflecting on Fletcher’s designs, commented:

“Bob Fletcher is a very fine designer, and I mean that very sincerely. We don’t design the same way, and there’s no reason we should—or could. It’s apples and oranges. But my personal feeling is, if you go to a structured, woven fabric and do the kind of tailoring and structuring he’s done, it puts those costumes back, historically, 500 years, with shoulder seams and shoulder pads of that type.” [Source]

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982). Everyone turned red with anger.

In Star Trek: The Next Generation, Roddenberry reunited with Bill Theiss, and together they decided to bring back the iconic miniskirts as part of the uniform, but with a twist—they wanted to make them inclusive. In The Next Generation, male crew members were occasionally seen wearing the same miniskirts or “scants” (a hybrid of skirts and pants), reflecting Roddenberry and Theiss’s vision of a future where gender norms no longer dictated clothing choices.

However, the social climate of the 1980s and 1990s wasn’t as receptive to this progressive idea.

“Having both actresses and actors in skirts was meant to diffuse any sexist accusations that might have been associated with designs from the old show,” Theiss explained. “It’s also fashionably probable that, 400 years from now, men would wear skants. Even so, there was usually a problem on the set,” he admits, “because some wisecracks were always made.” Theiss emphasized that he wanted his actors to feel at ease in the designs. “I won’t force an actor or actress to wear something they’re not at least 80 percent comfortable with.” [Source]

While Theiss’s designs were undeniably groundbreaking, he was known to be a challenging person to work with. Constantly preoccupied with time and budget constraints, Theiss had little patience for anyone—whether they were directors, producers, or even Gene Roddenberry himself. He was even less tolerant of people who approached him simply to praise or critique his work, or even just to say hello. His philosophy was simple: “Better to be rude than to delay filming.”

Actors, extras, and costume assistants often recalled how Theiss would dart around the set, frantically hemming, tucking, and adjusting costumes between takes. Many of the alien outfits seen on the show weren’t actually "costumes" in the traditional sense. Instead, they were often assembled from patches, ribbons, scarves, curtains, and wire, with actors being "stitched into" them directly on set. [Source]

For example, Janice Rand's iconic beehive hairstyle was crafted from several wigs braided together over a cone. Grace Lee Whitney, who played Rand, recalls running back and forth between the dressing room and Roddenberry’s office with Theiss, constantly piling on more hair. Each time, Roddenberry would stare at her intensely, then declare, “Higher!” Whitney and Theiss would rush back to add more wigs until the hairstyle reached its iconic height. [Source]

One Smithsonian Institute employee, who worked with Theiss in 1992 while preparing for a Star Trek costume exhibit, recalls combing through the Paramount warehouse filled with racks and boxes of costumes. She was amazed to discover that most of the "costumes" were actually scraps of fabric neatly hung on a single hanger. Yet, when these scraps were sewn, tied, and pinned together, they became the iconic designs we now associate with Star Trek.

Andrea Weaver, one of Theiss’s fellow costume designers on the original series, remembers:

“Bill Theiss was a creative designer. His designs for Star Trek were original, rather than distilled from other sources or redefinitions of previous works. This is what I appreciated about Bill Theiss. I thought he was a truly unique and rare costume creator.” [Source]

William Ware Theiss’s contributions to Star Trek are legendary. His uniforms for both Star Trek: The Original Series and Star Trek: The Next Generation remain iconic, instantly recognizable even by those who aren’t fans of the franchise. His innovative, DIY approach to creating futuristic costumes brought a distinctive charm to the original series and left an enduring legacy.

Here are some of his most memorable designs:

Left: Season 2, Episode 11: "Friday's Child" Right: Season 3, Episode 13: "Elaan of Troyius"

Left: Season 1, Episode 15: "Shore Leave" Right: Season 3, Episode 20: "The Way to Eden"

Left: Season 2, Episode 1: "Amok Time" Right: Season 1, Episode 23: "A Taste of Armageddon"

Left: Season 2, Episode 9: "Metamorphosis" Right: Season 1, Episode 6: "Mudd's Women"

Left: Season 3, Episode 5: "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Right: Season 1, Episode 15: "Shore Leave"

Left: Season 1, Episode 23: "A Taste of Armageddon"Right: Season 2, Episode 16: "The Gamesters of Triskelion"

Left: Season 3, Episode 11: "Wink of an Eye" Right: Season 3, Episode 8: "For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky"

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dostoyevsky-official · 4 months ago

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“Treasury has been denying that they gave Marko write access, but I am looking at his access request right now”

So they have “read and write” access, or even “read only” access, why do we care? What are the possible consequences?

1. Musk, Trump and their respective cronies have unrestricted access to your social security numbers, your confidential bank information, your confidential medical information and so much more.

This is true with just “read only” access. This is why the burgeoning media war (that currently “read only” is winning unfortunately) is something of a red-herring. It matters, don’t get me wrong. As a source yesterday said, Apocalyptic. But that source also said that “read only” was “catastrophic”. If the smash and grab operation commences just as stupidly, quickly and dangerously as it has so far, this could easily become identity theft by an untold number of people using their personally identifiable information within weeks.

This kind of information can also be used to target enemies and, if they get operational control elsewhere, the capability of using the Anti-Money Laundering (AML), Know Your Customer (KYC), & the Combating the Finance of Terror (CFT) laws to target political enemies. Of course, these laws have already been used to target political dissidents; but we are talking about something of an incomprehensibly larger scale. As one long time payments lawyer wrote to me: “Is DOGE using its own, non-OFAC definition of ‘terrorist group’ that has no basis in law?” In this sense, the Democratic party has fully and unequivocally participated in building the apparatus that is showing to be extraordinarily easily weaponized against them. In short, they can not just steal money but eliminate the financial existence of anyone they felt like, if operational control gets sufficient. The week Trump won his second term, I told a room full of Democratic party operatives that “if the Democratic Party really believed Trump was a fascist, they would destroy the servers containing all the surveillance data.”

2. Creating “backdoors” into the Treasury’s multi-trillion dollar payment system

I’m running short on time (it's late at the time of writing) and I have to get up in the morning and be prepared for another round of intensive interviews so this will have to be more carefully detailed in the future. But these are extremely sensitive systems, and complicated systems. All the factors that slow them down in taking over the system are also the factors that would make it hard to find intentionally hidden code to their benefit that could give them ongoing access to the system even if they are removed. I need to do more reporting on this one but it is something many, many sources have mentioned

3. Subordinate the judicial system to the Trump Administration/DOGE

This one has been hard to get across to readers. As you can imagine, the overwhelming social media response to this reporting has focused on the absurd illegality of the actions. Asking for judicial intervention. But as I covered in my piece Friday, the constitution is not self enforcing and the supreme court is unlikely to step in, or to step in a positive way. In my Friday’s piece I unfortunately presciently asked:

As a famous twentieth century statesman might have said in this situation "...and how many divisions does the Constitution have?”

What happens if they are just embedded so deeply in the heart of government payments that there is no mechanism to dislodge them? Court Injunctions are not self enforcing either My longtime payments lawyer source agrees with this point, which I also tried to articulate Monday:

Chokehold to stop or delay any and all payments initiated by federal agencies, and potential mechanical method to thwart judicial rulings when a judge/court says “You as the Executive Branch cannot stop federal grants/payments lawfully approved and directed by Congress.”

As we’ve seen, there are no armed law enforcement figures coming in to save the day and if Musk's DOGE get deep enough into the Bureau of the Fiscal Service, the only way to enforce the law is through street actions.

4. Elon Musk can use this system against his enemies.

It almost feels quant to say because the timeline of so many of the other possibilities are so immediately and dramatically dire that this one almost feels hopeful in comparison in that it implies “competitive position” being something that is very meaningful. Nevertheless, it should be obvious that this information, which includes information on all businesses the Federal Government does business with, is ripe to be used to kneecap competitors. Specifically my longtime payments lawyer source brought up just outright putting competitors on the “do not pay” list. The “good case scenario” may just be an economy increasingly dominated in all corners by Musk and/or Trump through a sprawling network of business ventures with the greatest possible advantages.

5. The New American Payments System, X the Everything App

For this one I am just going to quote my longtime payments lawyer source at length. They’ve got it and note this is a “read only” issue. Imagine the worst case of paying your taxes on X payments, or “receiving” your social security payments there.:

Obtaining access to and potentially exfiltrating data sets from BFS that may be characterized as “anonymized” (in order to evade criticism about potential violation of privacy laws), but could give insight into payment patterns and payment system strengths, weaknesses and behaviors:

1. Such information obtained on an inside track by DOGE would be very helpful, for example, if you are an entity like X Payments LLC and are currently licensed as a money transmitter in 42 states with plans to launch as-yet-to-be specified payments and financial services.

2. It is unclear whether there are any limitations on DOGE personnel transferring payment information to X Payments LLC in order for that company to gain proprietary information regarding federal payments in an anti-competitive manner compared to its fintech competitors currently in the marketplace.

3. Such single-sourced information not available to other market competitors would provide an anti-competitive jump for X Payments LLC on ApplePay, Google Pay, Samsung Pay (mobile wallets) and a host of other fintech companies in the marketplace backed by venture capital and private equity funding.

6. Ability to pick and choose who gets public money, regardless of congressional directives

I covered the constitutional aspects of this crisis Friday. The payment aspects I covered Monday. Without Judicial ability or willingness to sanction Trump & Musk, There is very little left of congress. The “power of the purse” is central to the rule and authority of congress. The decentralized (in relative terms) nature of administrative agencies means that there are enormous opportunities for agencies to follow the law. This is a place to skip past all those headaches.

7. Subordinate the judicial system to the Trump Administration/DOGE

As a famous twentieth century statesman might have said in this situation "...and how many divisions does the Constitution have?”

8. Elon Musk can use this system against his enemies.

9. The New American Payments System, X the Everything App

10. Ability to pick and choose who gets public money, regardless of congressional directives

11. Catastrophic failure of the payments system.

Even a disruption for a day would be a disaster. A disruption on longer timescales would have unimaginable knock on effects. The Treasury could involuntarily default because of operational issues. The worst case scenarios, which are completely and utterly plausible at the time of writing, would be a catastrophe without precedent. No typical economic calamity like the Great Financial Crisis or even the Great Depression would be comparable.

#tankus

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dreamsteddie · 2 months ago

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I'm sick, I'm languishing, I'm wearing a blanket in 70 degree heat, and I've been watching The Price is Right on loop since 10 AM.

Anyway, related to my previous posts (here and here), Eddie goes on tour for a couple of months and while he's away, Robin and Steve take a cross-country road trip on a whim to try and be on the Price is Right together.

She's glad Eddie was a good partner and took Steve to be on his favorite show, but she's a little offended they didn't bring her with them. She is mostly appeased by Eddie's continuous and vehement denial that Steve was talking about her and not him when Bob asked him about having a special girl back home. No mater how many times she brings it up, he always gets all red in the face and gives some long winded speech about love and being queer in public and coded speech. It's always hilarious.

Anyway, they get bored one day, and Steve has no qualms about using his and Eddie's joint account, even if it's mostly Eddie's money these days, while Steve does charity and volunteer work. So, when Robin asks Steve if he wants to go to California with her and try to get on again, he kind of just shrugs and goes to grab his shoes.

They drive for two days to get there, singing along to their music, eating too much junk food and not drinking enough water. Robin even forces Steve to listen to one of her book cassettes for "enrichment."

When they get to LA they grab a room at a semi-decent hotel (they could afford something luxury but they are so deep in Roadtrip Mode they don't even think about it). Robin lets Steve try on a million outfits that all look the same and makes up critiques and compliments for each of them because she knows her best friend and knows he won't leave until he feels like he's made the 'right' outfit choice. Steve, who still never fully let the outfit thing from last time go, will add this onto his once-yearly rant to Eddie. The man in question will find this equal parts endearing and aggravating.

They wait in line for two hours with the rest of the hopefuls, partake in interviews with PAs out on the street, and get ushered in. With their dynamic and good looks, they were never not going to get in.

It's the mid-90s, but everything is mostly the same as when Steve and Eddie went together in 89'. Some of the curtains are different and some of the small decals have been removed or changed and Steve delights in pointing off each and every minute change to Robin who finds it fascinating. She likes to pose outlandish hypotheticals for why they had to change it. Apparently, the last set of curtains got eaten by a pack of alpacas that broke in after hours. Who knew?

They watch and cheer and give standing ovations and it seems like the show is going to end without either of them being called up. Neither of them are too put out by it, chances are always low that they call your name, but then they go to call up the last contestant and the name is Robin Buckley. It takes a second for them to register what they heard, and the camera pans just in time to see them holding hands and jumping around like children. Robin steps on several pairs of shoes on her way to contestant's row

Bob catches it and ribs her a little about the number of toes she just broke and how she might need to win to pay off some medical bills. She laughs, extremely awkwardly, and they get to bidding. It's a pair of bicycles which she actually loves since her Women's History course last year had a lesson on how the widespread accessibility of the bicycle in Europe and the United States was seen as a "dangerous" gateway into women's liberation and a potential cause for lesbianism due to the shape and placement of the seat.

Steve knows she's been looking for a good bike, and has been given many a second-hand lesson about Women's History from his best friend, cheers extra loud in the audience. They both know she's got this.

Robin guesses the exact right number on the first try and wins that extra hundred. She kind of hates reaching into Bob's pocket to get it, but a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars. She plays Danger Price and wins all four prizes (a secretary, a stereo system, a barbeque, and a fancy-looking clock). She is so extremely smug about the whole thing.

When it's time to spin the wheel, she get's a dollar across two spins and gets the 1,000 dollars, which Steve absolutely loses his head about. The camera pans to him on his feet, clapping and screaming her name. Unfortunately, another contestant does the same and loses in the spin off. Steve is in no way put off by Robin not being in the showcase because he's too busy going on about statistics and average winnings like this is an actual sport.

At the end of the day they pack away all their stuff into the back of Robin's old station wagon, check out of their hotel, and spend a couple of nights in San Francisco before heading back home. It's a miracle no one breaks into their car.

Eddie comes back home about a month later, and Steve just...never mentions it. For how much he loves The Price is Right, he never says a word about their little trip until a week after his return when the episode airs. At first, Eddie doesn't even notice because the camera pans over everyone so quickly. It's not until Steve runs to grab their now cordless phone, an unheard of act for Steve who takes this time of day very seriously, that he even clues in on anything being different.

It's only when he hears Steve talking into the receiver to Robin about "our episode being on" that he cottons on completely to what exactly is happening. The camera snatches a close up of the two of them whispering to each other and clapping when they come back from commercial break.

He nudges Steve with his toe the entire episode just to bother him for not telling him about an entire multi-day trip, but he knows trying to tear his boyfriend away from both The Price is Right and Robin is a lost cause and resigns himself to waiting until the episode ends before they talk about it.

It turns out Steve did call Eddie the night they got back from filming to tell Eddie all about it. Unfortunately, it was one of those nights where Eddie is both in a different time zone and deeply asleep after a performance and he answers the phone half awake and doesn't remember it in the morning, having hummed and agreed in the right places on instinct and only remembers the call as a hazy dream the next morning.

#platonic stobin #the price is right #steddie #background steddie #again #this is an imaginary world where certain particulars about the price is right are not real #stranger things #dreamer speaks #fanfiction #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #this took twice as long to type as it should have #due to the illness #please ignore the errors #I am unwell

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mediocre-shark-tales · 2 months ago

Text

A Summer Break for the Ages

Doohan Sister Reader F1 Driver Reader Cadillac Formula 1 Reader

Sorry for such a long wait everyone, things got super busy as my formula sae team got busy in preparation for an open house event. But I am back to planning and writing again. So to treat you all, here is an extra long and extra fluffy chapter for you.

The pen was starting to slip in my hand, not because it was too heavy or awkward, but because my palms were sweating. Stupid. It was just paperwork. Just another clipboard in another waiting room. I’d filled out dozens of these over the last few months—medical forms, release waivers, press permissions, rehab evaluations. But this one? This one felt different. This one felt… important.

The room was warm and quiet, filled with soft light and the faint scent of cedar. A dog barked in the distance, and I flinched slightly before reminding myself this was a safe place. I stared at the question on the page:

“What are you hoping to find in a dog?”

It should’ve been easy to answer. A companion. A little joy. Something to come home to after the chaos of racing and interviews and headlines I didn’t ask for. But more than that—something steady. Something that didn’t care about what the media said or the footage that kept replaying of the crash. Someone who didn’t ask questions, just stayed close when the nights got long and the thoughts got loud.

I scribbled down the first honest thing that came to mind:

“A partner. A friend. Someone who understands silence.”

When I handed it back, the woman behind the desk smiled softly like she’d read between every word I hadn’t said. “We have a little tradition,” she told me as she stood. “Our dogs… they choose you. Not the other way around.”

I followed her out of the cozy little office, heart pounding like I was about to walk into qualifying again. Except this time there was no helmet. No track. Just the sun-warmed backyard of the facility—and maybe a future waiting for me in the grass.

The gate opened and chaos greeted me in the most beautiful way. Dogs. All kinds. Bouncing, wagging, barking, rolling in the dirt. A pair of fluffy mutts ran straight for me, tails spinning like windmills, and I crouched down (as much as my shoulder allowed) to let them sniff and slobber and welcome me with happy energy I hadn’t felt in ages.

I was so distracted by them, I almost didn’t notice him.

He was standing off to the side—still, quiet, watching. A large German Shepherd, dark coat shining in the sun, ears perked, stance alert. He didn’t charge or bark or demand attention. He observed. Me. And when our eyes met, something… shifted. I didn’t know how to explain it, even now. But my heart settled. Not in a romantic way or a cheesy movie moment way, but in a deep, grounding way. Like a boat finally anchoring.

He took a few careful steps forward, his eyes locked on mine the whole time. Every inch of him radiated calm focus. And then—without hesitation—he leaned his full body gently into my leg. Solid and warm.

I let out a shaky breath, blinking hard. He didn’t nudge for pets, didn’t lick my face. He just… stayed. And that’s what I needed.

The trainer’s voice came from behind me, just a touch surprised. “Well, would you look at that. That’s Axel. He’s a bit of a legend around here.”

I looked down at him. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s more than that,” she said, stepping beside me. “He’s trained for emotional support. PTSD, anxiety, trauma cases. He knows when to give space and when to stay close.”

I blinked at her. “Wait—he’s already trained?”

She nodded. “Fully certified. And… he’s got something extra, too. Axel’s also trained in protective behavior. Not attack, just defense. He’s not aggressive unless you give the signal.”

I glanced down at him again, his head now resting gently against my thigh like he’d been mine forever.

“What kind of signals?”

“Two code words,” she explained. “If you say ‘susto’—which means ‘scare’—he’ll alert. Stand between you and whoever’s setting him off. He’ll bark, stiffen posture. Warn. But he won’t escalate especially when you say ‘hecho.’ That ends it. Brings him back down.”

“And if I don’t say anything?”

“He’ll decide based on your body language,” she said gently. “But he’s incredibly intelligent. He won’t act unless he senses real danger. You’re always in control.”

It took me a second to swallow the lump in my throat. This wasn’t just a dog. This was… security. This was someone who could help me feel safe again—not just emotionally, but physically. Someone who would see the fear I tried so hard to hide and stand in front of it for me.

“Axel,” I whispered, dropping to my knees beside him. “You okay with me?”

He looked up at me, then leaned in and licked my chin.

I laughed for the first time in days.

Later that day, after the bonding test and paperwork and basic command refreshers, Axel climbed into the passenger seat of my car like it was already his. He rested his head lightly on my thigh as I drove, his eyes flicking to mine every so often like he was still checking—you alright?

Back at my apartment, I didn’t feel nervous. I didn’t feel alone. Axel followed me through the rooms, nose twitching at the corners of my cluttered shelves, finally settling on the couch where I curled up next to him with a blanket and a box of leftover cookies.

He didn’t need to talk. Didn’t need to ask me how I was doing. He just stayed close, warm and steady.

When I whispered, “Thank you for picking me,” he let out a soft huff and nudged his head into my chest, the rhythm of his breathing syncing with mine.

And for the first time since the crash, I finally felt like maybe—just maybe—I could start to put the pieces back together again. With Axel beside me, I wasn’t just a ghost of myself anymore.

I was home and I felt safe.

—

I hadn’t been this nervous to sit in a doctor's office in a while.

It was strange, the way my heart fluttered—not from fear of bad news, but from this intense pressure building behind my ribs. The kind that came when you wanted something so badly to be okay, even though you weren’t sure you were allowed to hope yet.

Axel sat at my feet, tail thudding softly against the cool tile floor every now and then. He had this way of grounding me without needing to be commanded. Since we found each other, he’d been the constant shadow at my side, somehow always knowing what I needed even before I did. I glanced down, brushing my fingers behind his ears. He leaned into the touch, big brown eyes blinking up at me with an ease that made the moment feel less clinical, less sterile.

I heard the doctor before I saw her—her steps were confident, familiar. She stepped in with a tablet in one hand and a bright smile already on her face, and I felt a little piece of my tension start to unravel.

“Let’s check that shoulder first,” she said warmly.

I nodded, carefully beginning the familiar routine of unstrapping the restrictive brace I’d worn since the crash. My movements were slow, cautious. Not because of the pain, but out of habit—like if I moved wrong, everything might break all over again.

Axel stood up as I shifted on the exam table, his body brushing against my leg like he was offering backup support. I murmured a quiet “Hecho,” and he sat back down obediently.

The doctor’s fingers were gentle but thorough as she rotated my arm, checking each angle and joint. She paused to inspect the scars still healing near my collarbone—burns from the fire that had licked my suit. They weren’t as red anymore, not as raw, but I still flinched sometimes when the fabric of my shirts caught them wrong.

“You’ve made incredible progress,” she said finally, stepping back. “Inflammation is down. Mobility’s coming back faster than I expected. You’ve been doing the work.”

I smiled, a small one, but it was real. “Tell that to my frozen shoulder on day two of PT.”

She laughed, then reached into a drawer and returned with a smaller brace—sleek, more discreet, and definitely not the kind that made strangers on the street give me worried looks.

“This is your next step,” she explained, helping me guide my arm into the new brace. “Still no heavy lifting, and take care with how you sleep. But this will give you a lot more comfort. Should fit under clothes easily too.”

It was strange how something so small could make me feel almost normal. I flexed my arm slightly, feeling the way the support hugged just right.

Then came the next part.

I followed her down the hall to radiology, Axel once again sticking close. He waited patiently outside the door, nose pressed against the glass like he was supervising. I swear he’d taken his guardian job to heart the moment I adopted him.

The x-ray process was quick—routine by now. The techs barely needed to direct me anymore. I held still, breathed when they told me, and walked out already rehearsing worst-case scenarios in my head.

Back in the exam room, I waited. Axel laid down this time, head resting on my boot, tail occasionally tapping when I reached down to stroke his back.

When the doctor returned, she didn’t make me wait.

“Your fracture is healing beautifully,” she said, turning the tablet toward me so I could see the clean lines of my bone coming back together. “No shifting. No complications. You’ll be out of that cast next week.”

I blinked. “Really?”

She nodded. “From there, we’ll work on gradually building weight back up. If everything keeps going this well, you will be back in the car by the second race.”

A breath caught in my throat.

Two weeks, only missing 1 race.

It had been just under a month since the crash, and two weeks from now, I could be in the car again. Not just thinking about racing—doing it. Feeling the wheel in my hands. Hearing the engine vibrate through my bones.

I didn’t realize my hands had clenched until Axel nudged me with his nose. I opened them slowly, fingers still stiff in the cast, but the ache didn’t bother me today.

From the corner, Nico’s voice chimed in.

“Perfect,” he said, already typing into his phone. “I’ll update Diego.”

I raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You mean my personal stalker-slash-trainer?”

“He prefers ‘dedicated professional’,” Nico deadpanned. “But yes.”

The news brought something else to the surface—something I’d been meaning to share with my audience, but hadn’t found the right time or words. Maybe this would be the moment.

Before Deigo, my training was impersonal. A faceless contract with a faceless trainer. Someone paid through an agency who thought I was a woman training for marathons or maybe motorsport-adjacent racing. They didn’t know who I was, and they didn’t ask. It was sterile, minimal, safe. I had to stay under the radar, even in my own recovery.

But now… I didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Diego had been with me every step of this journey. He was the one who learned every layer of my body and how it healed. The one who researched PT for burns and race-related shoulder injuries and helped build regimens that weren’t just effective—they fit me.

He wasn’t just in my corner. He was the reason I’d gotten out of bed those first few painful mornings.

“Think I’ll tell them soon,” I said quietly. “About Diego.”

Nico’s face softened. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Feels like the right time.”

I pictured it—something casual, maybe a vlog or a behind-the-scenes reel.

“Hey, guys. So this is Diego. He’s been my radio engineer for a while now but he finally finished his certification and got to take over full time as my personal trainer too. He’s helped with my recovery since day one, and you’ll probably see him more often now not just as my radio engineer but my trainer too. He’s a pain, but he’s my pain.”

That would be enough.

No need to dive into the years of hidden injuries or the lies I’d had to spin to stay safe. No need to talk about how close I’d come to losing everything when the car went up in flames. They didn’t need the trauma to understand the truth.

They just needed to know I wasn’t alone anymore.

And as we left the doctor’s office, sun spilling onto the sidewalk like a warm exhale from the sky, I felt it—real, true forward momentum after weeks of feeling stuck in one small dull world.

—

When Nico dropped me off at my apartment, the world outside felt quieter, softer. Axel, the big German Shepherd who’d chosen me over all the other dogs at the trainer’s, was curled up in the backseat, looking as calm and collected as he ever did. We’d been through a lot in the past few days—vet visits, paperwork, a long flight to get him here—and now, after all that effort, he was finally home.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, giving Nico a grateful smile as I got out. I adjusted the strap of my bag over my shoulder, Axel following close behind. He trotted up beside me, calm as always, his eyes scanning our surroundings like he was making sure everything was okay. There was something so reassuring about him.

Nico caught my eye, his grin widening just slightly. “You’re sure you’re good here? No help with anything?”

“I’ve got it covered,” I said with a chuckle, even as I gave the apartment door a quick glance to make sure everything was still in order. “I’ve got a puppy now, Nico. What else do I need?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right, you’re all set with your emotional support dog. Perfect time to leave you alone, huh?” His voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of affection in it.

“Everything’s fine,” I assured him, giving Axel a scratch behind the ears as the dog followed me up the stairs. Axel looked up at me, his tongue hanging out in a grin, but his gaze stayed steady and protective. It was so comforting to know that I had a partner who not only had my back but was also going to be with me all week.

As we made our way inside, I unpacked a few things while Nico made sure I didn’t forget anything. I made a mental checklist: clothes packed, medication in my bag, a fresh set of shoulder braces and wraps in my suitcase for the arm and shoulder, Axel’s travel gear ready. Everything was done. It was all going according to plan.

Then, a soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

I opened it, and immediately I was met with the loud, boisterous voices of Ollie and Kimi.

“Surprise, surprise,” Ollie grinned, stepping inside without hesitation, “Look what we’ve got, a delivery of sunshine and—”

His voice trailed off as he froze mid-step, his eyes going wide.

Kimi stepped in right behind him, also stopping when he caught sight of Axel. The atmosphere in the room shifted, a quiet awe filling the space.

Ollie slowly crouched down, his eyes filled with surprise and delight. “You... you got a dog?”

I nodded, unable to contain the excitement bubbling inside me. “Yeah, his name’s Axel. I didn’t tell you guys because I wanted it to be a surprise. I figured he could keep me company during the break, you know?”

Axel, ever the cool customer, just stood there, his tail gently swaying behind him. But I could feel him observing both Ollie and Kimi carefully. It was like he was weighing them, deciding if they were worth his trust.

Kimi, as usual, didn’t waste a second. He took a step toward Axel, his movements slow and deliberate, letting the dog smell his outstretched hand. Axel sniffed once, then twice, before he gave a little huff and nudged Kimi’s palm with his nose. That was it. Kimi smiled, his eyes lighting up in a way that made my heart warm.

“He’s already fond of you,” I teased.

Ollie grinned, and then—just when I thought Axel was going to ignore him—he walked over to Ollie, sitting at his feet, looking up with those big brown eyes like he was silently demanding attention. Ollie laughed, scratching Axel behind the ears. “Okay, okay, I admit it,” he said. “I’m in love.”

“I’m in love,” Kimi chimed in, looking at me with a grin. “But mostly because Axel’s clearly already won me over.”

Axel huffed again, letting his body relax as I sat on the couch, gesturing for them to join me. The dog nestled up beside me, one paw stretched lazily over my foot. There was something so comforting about having him with me in this moment. Something that settled the edges of my mind, grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

“Alright, now we’re ready to go,” Ollie said, looking around the apartment for a final check. “The Tahoe’s outside. Kimi’s manager is driving, and he’s got everything planned so we don’t have to worry about anything. Plus, we saved you the entire back seat. No choosing who sits with who.”

“That’s really nice of you guys,” I said, smiling.

We made our way outside, Axel following me closely as Kimi opened the back door of the blacked-out Tahoe. Axel hopped up first, with a little help from me. It seemed like everything with him just worked in a way that made everything else feel easier.

The ride to the airport was uneventful, in the best way possible. Just the soft hum of the engine, the cool leather seats, and Axel’s calm presence beside me. Kimi and Ollie chattered about nothing and everything, making plans for the trip, throwing out ideas for hikes and beach days.

But when we arrived at the airport, that’s when the magic of the day really began. As we stepped out of the vehicle, a group of discreet security guards greeted us, ready to whisk us through the back entrance, out of sight of any curious fans. The boys were still relaxed, enjoying the anonymity, and I could see the joy in their eyes as we moved seamlessly through the terminal, Axel quietly trotting by my side.

Once inside the VIP room, I breathed a sigh of relief. The tension I’d carried with me—about being recognized, about keeping Axel’s presence under wraps—finally melted away.

“So,” Ollie said, settling onto one of the plush chairs. “Four whole days of nothing but fun and relaxation. Just us. No interviews, no press. What’s the first thing we’re doing when we get there?”

“We’ve got a boat ride planned, remember?” Kimi chimed in, putting his feet up and cracking open a bottle of water. “Lunch to sunset. Then some hiking, maybe?”

“That sounds perfect,” I replied, leaning back, watching Axel curl up on the floor beside me, his eyes half-closed in contentment. “Anything that doesn’t involve me breaking my arm again.”

“Nothing too crazy,” Ollie reassured me. “But we’re going to hike up the Alps. Get some stargazing in, cook a few meals together, maybe hit the beach.”

I smiled, the thought of it all making me feel lighter. A boat ride, a relaxed hike, some stargazing under the clear French sky… and Axel, right there with me the entire time.

I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply.

“This is going to be perfect,” I murmured.

And as the boys began talking about their plans—about markets to visit and secret coves to find—I knew that this trip wasn’t just about escaping for a while. It was about finding peace in the little things. With them. With Axel. And that, to me, was everything I needed.

—

The low hum of the plane was oddly soothing, a steady white noise that matched the gentle vibration under my seat. We were about halfway across the ocean now, headed toward a much-needed break tucked away in the French Riviera. Our little group had lucked out with first-class cubbies, each of us in our own private pod. I was tucked into mine, Ollie in the one just to my right, and Kimi across the aisle, both only a few steps away.

Axel lay in the aisle between us, his big body curled up right where the stewardess had said he should be—close enough to reach me instantly, should I need him. It made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. Just knowing he was there was like anchoring myself to solid ground, even when we were flying above clouds.

I had reclined my chair into its flat position a little while ago, one of the many luxuries of these fancy pods. The blanket draped loosely over my legs, and my headphones sat gently over my ears—no music playing, though. I just wanted it to be a little quieter and I allowed Axel to hop up onto the makeshift bed with me.

Axel’s head rested beside mine now. My hand was tucked into his soft fur, slowly stroking behind his ears, the way he liked. His calm breathing matched mine, and soon, sleep began tugging at the edges of my mind.

That’s when I felt it.

A gentle touch brushing through my hair—fingers sweeping a few loose strands away from my face. Soft, careful. I didn’t move. I kept my eyes closed, my breathing steady, curious what would come next.

“She looks like she’s finally relaxed,” Ollie’s voice whispered.

I could hear the soft rustle as he leaned back in his chair, clearly thinking I couldn’t hear them through my ‘music.’

Kimi responded, just as quiet. “It’s still wild. A couple months ago… I didn’t think we’d get to do this. Not like this. Not with her here.”

My heart ached gently, but not in a bad way. I held still, letting them talk.

“I used to stay up, watching the crash over and over again, trying to convince myself that I shouldn’t have to worry anymore, that I wouldn’t wake up and she wouldn’t be here anymore.” Ollie murmured.

“Yeah,” Kimi said. “I’d wake up from nightmares where she just… didn’t make it. Couldn’t shake it off for hours.”

There was a pause, the kind that weighed heavy with old fear.

“But now look at her,” Kimi added, voice softening. “She’s got a dog who practically worships her, she’s healthy, and she’s laughing again. We can’t take that for granted.”

“No,” Ollie agreed, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I still worry, though. Every time she winces or disappears for a second too long. I hate how scared I still get.”

“Same,” Kimi admitted. “But I’ll take the worry if it means we still have her.”

My eyes burned a little. I blinked them open, letting my hand press just a little firmer into Axel’s side. He shifted closer in response, letting out a quiet whuff.

“I think she’s dreaming,” Ollie whispered.

Kimi chuckled softly. “Probably dreaming about being bossy and beating us at go-karts again.”

“Yeah, she’d better not heal that fast.”

They both laughed quietly, and I finally opened my eyes completely, turning just slightly toward Axel. I let out a little sigh and stretched, just enough to make it look like I was coming out of sleep.

Ollie immediately leaned over the partition. “Hey, hey, you good?”

I gave him a lazy half-smile. “Just comfy,” I murmured, voice still sleep-thick. “Axel makes a good pillow.”

Axel gave a very smug sigh, like he knew exactly what we were talking about.

Kimi leaned forward, his arm resting over the edge of his pod. “Did we wake you up?”

I shook my head slowly. “No. Just the best nap in weeks, that’s all.”

Their shoulders eased. The air between us was gentle now—filled with affection and warmth, with all the words they didn’t need to say out loud. I didn’t call them out on what I heard. I didn’t need to. Just hearing it had been enough. A quiet reminder of the bond we shared.

Axel pressed his nose into my wrist, and I rubbed his ears, mouthing a silent “thank you” to the best boy.

With the low lights dimming around us, and the clouds stretching endlessly beneath us, I settled back into my little cocoon. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like everything might just be okay.

—

The villa looked like it had been pulled out of a daydream.

Tucked into the side of a gentle slope and kissed by the French seaside breeze, it had an effortless charm — stone walls bleached by years of sun, pale-blue shutters framing the windows, and ivy crawling up one side like nature had given the place a warm embrace. Inside, it smelled like lemon soap and linen. The kind of place that made your shoulders drop the moment you stepped inside.

I stood in the doorway to my room, suitcase half-unpacked, just soaking it all in. Axel had already made himself at home, nose twitching at every corner before plopping dramatically on the foot of my bed. His soft eyes met mine, almost like he was saying, "Yep, this'll do."

"You're right," I said aloud to him with a small smile, reaching down to give him a scratch behind the ears. "This'll definitely do."

My room had huge windows that overlooked a gravel path winding through wild lavender and olive trees. The bed had cozy cream blankets and a little wicker bench at the end. I took my time folding things into drawers and hanging a few outfits I knew I’d want later. Even with the weight of a shoulder brace and a half-healed fracture, I felt lighter than I had in months.

Kimi and Ollie were still unpacking down the hall—though by the sounds of it, “unpacking” might’ve involved more laughing than organizing. I was halfway through smoothing out the last T-shirt in my drawer when I heard the soft thud of something hitting a wall followed by Ollie yelling, “That was not my fault, that shelf just hates me!”

Smiling, I stepped out of my room, letting the peace of this place settle into my chest like warm honey. I made my way into the kitchen—sunlight pouring across the counter, curtains fluttering slightly in the ocean breeze—and started thinking about dinner. Something simple. Something comforting.

Opening my phone, I browsed the local market's website. It had everything—fresh produce, cuts of meat, artisan cheeses, and even a little wine section. My mind was already building the meal as I jotted a quick list in the notes app:

Three nice, thick steaks

Yukon gold potatoes

Green beans

Cheese for the casserole

Milk, butter, and sour cream

Maybe a little wine…?

Definitely dessert.

As if on cue, I felt a presence over my shoulder.

“Are you plotting something dangerous?” Ollie asked, chin practically hovering next to my head. His hair was sticking up like he’d run through a wind tunnel, and he still had one sock on.

“I’m feeding you, actually,” I replied with a smirk.

“Ah. That’s extremely dangerous. I might fall in love,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, flopping dramatically onto the nearby barstool.

Kimi entered behind him, far more collected, but still with that telltale smirk that said he’d heard everything. “Did I hear the word dessert?” he asked, walking toward the fridge to check if we had eggs. He opened it and laughed. “We have... two lemons, a bottle of water, and half a cucumber.”

“Then it’s settled,” I said, grabbing my phone and the handwritten list. “We’re going shopping.”

Ollie clapped his hands. “The grocery squad is a go.”

Kimi rolled his eyes, but he was already slipping his shoes on.

Before we left, I grabbed Axel’s travel leash—one of the things I’d secretly ordered in preparation for this trip. The soft leather fit nicely in my hand, and Axel immediately perked up, trotting to my side like the perfect gentleman. I’d checked the rules a dozen times before bringing him, even booked an upgraded ticket just so he could fly cabin with me. He’d already earned his place here, and the villa was pet-friendly. He was part of my family now.

Ollie noticed the new leash, raising a brow. “Someone came prepared.”

“You think I was leaving him behind after only three days?” I asked, eyes twinkling. “Please.”

The walk to the market felt like something out of a dream. Narrow cobblestone streets, the occasional hum of a moped passing by, and the scent of fresh herbs from nearby window boxes. We took our time—laughing, pointing out little shops, Axel getting far too much attention from people who couldn’t believe such a big dog looked so soft.

The market was a little open-air plaza tucked between two streets, overflowing with color and warmth. We split up, everyone taking part of the list. Ollie became that guy who had to sample every cheese. Kimi debated between three types of steak for almost ten minutes. I picked out green beans and potatoes while Axel sat patiently beside me, tail thumping quietly.

We regrouped by the bread stand, bags in hand, sun warm on our backs.

“Mission success,” Kimi announced.

“Operation Dinner Domination has commenced,” Ollie added, fist-pumping the air like we’d just won a race.

Back at the villa, we turned on soft music and started cooking.

Axel laid in the corner of the kitchen, keeping one eye on me at all times. Ollie insisted on whipping the mashed potatoes. Kimi took over the cheese grating with intense focus, like it was a matter of national pride. I handled the steaks, searing them just right and letting the aroma fill the space.

The casserole bubbled in the oven, the potatoes were fluffy and rich, and the green beans were sautéed with a bit of garlic and butter. The kitchen became a beautiful mess—bowls stacked in the sink, spoons everywhere, but laughter filling every corner.

Dinner was magic.

The table was lit by candles we found in a drawer, and the sunset poured golden light across our plates. We sat together, eating like we hadn’t in ages, passing dishes back and forth, Axel quietly getting the tiniest bite of steak under the table as a reward for being the best-behaved boy.

At one point, I leaned back in my chair and looked at the two of them—Ollie mid-laugh, Kimi rolling his eyes but smiling anyway—and I felt something bloom quietly in my chest.

Peace. Real, soul-deep peace. I couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the week would bring.

—

The air was crisp the next morning, the kind that whispered promises of adventure.

I’d woken up to the sound of birds and the faint rustle of trees outside my window. The villa was still quiet when I slipped out of bed, Axel padding at my side, his tail already wagging like he was excited for whatever the day held.

By the time the boys were up and dressed, the sun was creeping higher into the sky, casting long golden beams across the living room.

“Still down for the trail?” Kimi asked, slinging a lightweight backpack over his shoulder. “Unless you’ve decided to spend the day napping instead.”

“I do love a nap,” I teased, grabbing my water bottle, “but I love proving you wrong even more.”

Ollie snorted as he laced up his shoes. “Someone woke up feisty.”

“Feisty looks good on her,” Kimi added, and I felt the warmth crawl up the back of my neck, pretending not to hear him as I turned to check Axel’s gear instead.

The hike wasn’t too long—about an hour and a half up, winding through forested switchbacks and stretches of rocky ledges that offered postcard-worthy views of the surrounding hills. The trail was quiet, only the sound of gravel under our feet and the occasional bird overhead. Axel led the way confidently, stopping every now and then to sniff around and look back at me like he was making sure I was still okay.

We paused at the summit, where a flat stretch of land overlooked the valley below. You could see the tiny speck of our villa in the distance, just between the trees.

The wind tugged gently at my hair as I stood at the edge, arms folded, watching the clouds drift. Then I felt Kimi step beside me. He didn’t say anything at first, just handed me a bottle of water and stood close enough that our shoulders almost touched.

“You know,” he said after a beat, his voice lower, softer, “you’ve been smiling more this trip.”

I glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He looked down at me, eyes warm. “It’s just… nice to see it again.”

That quiet honesty settled deep into my chest.

We stayed up there until the sun dipped low, painting the sky in pinks and soft oranges. When night finally started creeping in, Ollie pulled out a blanket from his backpack and spread it on the ground. We all laid back, heads close together, watching as the stars began to appear one by one.

Axel curled up next to me, his head resting on my hip.

“There’s Orion,” Ollie pointed, tracing the constellation with his finger.

“I always thought stars looked closer together in movies,” I murmured, my voice barely louder than the breeze.

“That’s because movies don’t show you this,” Kimi replied quietly, reaching over and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered for a second longer than they needed to.

I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t look away either.

The silence between us wasn’t heavy. It felt… full.

—

The next day felt like something out of a vacation beach magazine.

Blue skies stretched endlessly overhead, and the ocean sparkled just beyond the cliffs. After a lazy breakfast and a round of teasing about who had snored the loudest (it was definitely Ollie), we grabbed towels and made our way down the narrow trail from the villa that led to a semi-private beach.

It was small, the kind of place the locals probably kept to themselves, tucked between two rocky outcrops that hugged the shore.

I kicked off my shoes and let my toes sink into the warm sand. Axel darted toward the water with a joyful bark, skimming the waves and circling back like a four-legged lifeguard.

“God, I missed this,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Kimi was beside me again. “The beach or the peace?”

“Both,” I said, turning to smile at him. “Though this view doesn’t hurt either.”

“You mean me?” he asked innocently, striking a ridiculous pose that made me laugh.

“You wish.”

We spent hours exploring. Ollie found a tidepool and named every crab he saw. Kimi and I wandered a bit farther, following a narrow stretch of rocks until we found a tiny cove hidden just out of view. It was beautiful—clear turquoise water, soft white sand, and just enough space for two towels and Axel to sprawl out under the shade of an overhang.

I sat down with a content sigh, brushing sand off my knees. “You think we’ll remember this ten years from now?”

Kimi didn’t answer right away. He sat beside me, our legs barely brushing. “I hope so,” he said finally. “But if we don’t, maybe we’ll just have to come back and do it all over again.”

That earned a real laugh from me. “You’re assuming I’d willingly vacation with you again.”

“You love me already,” he said smugly. “You just don’t know it yet.”

By the time the sun began to sink, we made our way back to the villa—sun-kissed, sandy, and carrying a ridiculous amount of shells Ollie insisted were "rare treasures."

That night, we gathered in the hot tub under the stars.

The water was warm, the jets bubbling quietly, and soft music played from someone’s speaker. Axel dozed on the deck nearby, completely at peace. We talked about everything and nothing, stories from when we were kids, favorite races, movies we still hadn’t seen. My shoulder brace was off for the night, tucked safely on a chair, and I felt free. Light.

“You’re glowing,” Kimi said, voice low and playful.

“I’m in a hot tub, its sweat bud,” I replied, nudging him with my foot under the water.

“Sure,” he grinned, leaning closer, “but I don’t think it is.” The look in his eyes told me he meant it. And for once, I didn’t deflect. I just smiled, heart warm and full. Whatever this was, whatever it was becoming — I wasn’t afraid of it.

—

The ride back from the airport was quiet. All three of us were sunk deep into the soft seats of the Uber, still a little sun-kissed, a little sleepy, and not quite ready to say goodbye to the calm we’d found at the villa. Axel had his head in my lap, paws twitching occasionally in a dream, maybe chasing butterflies or sniffing the sea air that still clung faintly to my hoodie.

When the car pulled up to my building, I turned toward the boys with a small smile.

“Wanna just… crash at my place tonight?” I asked softly, almost shyly. “It’s kinda late and I still have those giant air mattresses I used last time.”

Ollie and Kimi exchanged a glance, then nodded together. “Yeah,” Kimi said with a shrug. “One more night. Let’s drag out the peace a little longer.”

Inside, I got to work setting up. The air mattresses puffed up slowly, filling the open floor space in my room, one on either side. Axel wandered around while the boys brought their bags in and changed into comfy clothes, the atmosphere light again—easy.

It felt safe. Cozy. Like home was a little less heavy with them in it.

We stayed up for a little while just talking, laughing over villa memories and ranking who cooked best (I won, obviously), until the yawns caught up with us. Lights off. Axel curled at my side.

That night felt still.

The kind of stillness that usually came after something beautiful, like the final flicker of a candle before it goes out. My room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional huff from Axel as he adjusted where he lay on the floor beside my bed. The boys were stretched out on the air mattresses—Ollie closest to the door, Kimi near the window—and I could hear them breathing slow, steady, fast asleep.

I thought I was, too.

But then—

The dark started shifting.

In the dream, I was strapped in again. Back in the cockpit of the car. The high-pitched whine of the engine screamed around me, almost like it was crying. The track ahead blurred, sun glaring through the visor, and then—impact. Metal crunched and bent around me like foil, my body jolting in the seat with a violent force I felt in my bones. The car spun, flipped once, then twice. I could feel my arm snap—could hear the muffled screaming through the helmet. Mine.

The world around me slowed, stretching the seconds. Smoke poured into the cockpit, and I was upside down. Trapped. I tried to breathe. Tried to move. But my harness held me tight, the air thick and suffocating. And then I heard it—scraping. A fire crackling too close. Something sparked.

I screamed. I begged. Please. Someone help me. I don’t want to die like this.

“Y/N?!” a voice called—but it sounded warped, distant. “Stay with us, come on—!”

I knew that voice.

Ollie.

And then another. “We’re coming! Hold on, Y/N!”

Kimi.

But in the nightmare, I couldn’t see them. I was alone. Always alone.

The panic swelled, my lungs collapsing under the weight of memory and fear, and I thrashed against my restraints in the dream until I heard a sharp bark.

Axel.

Another bark. Louder. Urgent. Close.

My eyes flew open.

I was gasping, soaked in sweat, the sheets tangled around my legs like the belts in my car. My heart was racing so fast I could barely breathe. I blinked rapidly in the dark and saw Axel beside me, paws on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide and locked on me. His body was rigid, ears forward, focused like he knew exactly what had happened.

But I wasn’t alone.

“Y/N?” a voice said softly. Not dreamlike this time. Real. Present. “Hey… hey, it’s okay.”

Kimi.

I turned slightly, barely processing the warm hand on my shoulder, grounding me. Then I saw Ollie too, sitting on the other side of the bed, his face full of concern. Both of them were crouched beside me now, eyes searching my face, their own sleep clearly interrupted.

“I’m here,” I croaked out. My voice felt raw, like I had been screaming. I probably had.

Axel let out a soft whine, then gently nudged his nose into my arm, curling closer to me once I reached out to touch him. He settled again against my side, like a sentinel resuming his watch.

I looked between the boys and then away, the shame creeping in like smoke after a fire.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered.

“Don’t,” Ollie said immediately, his voice still laced with sleep but firm. “You sounded terrified. We didn’t even think twice.”

Kimi’s expression was softer than I’d ever seen it. “Was it the crash?”

I nodded once, feeling the dam behind my eyes start to tremble. I’d kept this to myself for so long—thinking if I didn’t speak it, maybe it would go away. But it hadn’t. And now they knew.

“I… I relive it sometimes,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Not every night. But enough. I dream about the fire. The spinning. The pain. The sounds. I always wake up at the same point… trapped. Screaming.”

Neither of them said anything right away.

Just silence—and then the bed dipped beside me as Ollie carefully crawled up and sat near my legs, while Kimi moved to sit at my other side, their presence warm and steady.

“You’ve been dealing with this alone?” Kimi asked gently.

“I didn’t want to make it worse. For anyone,” I whispered. “You were both already so scared. I didn’t want to keep dragging it out.”

“You’re not dragging anything out,” Ollie said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You nearly died. You’re allowed to have scars we can’t see. It’s not weakness.”

“It’s survival,” Kimi added, his hand reaching for mine, steady and calm. “You got through the worst of it. But you don’t have to heal from it alone.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks without me realizing. Axel licked one gently from my jaw before settling down again with a soft sigh, satisfied now that I wasn’t shaking as much.

I sniffled and gave them a watery smile. “He’s trained for this. For PTSD, anxiety, general emotional support. But I guess I didn’t expect him to know exactly when to wake me up.”

“He loves you,” Ollie murmured, shifting to lay beside me now, one arm loosely over my waist. “Just like we do.”

Kimi laid down on my other side, gentle, careful. “We’re not going anywhere, Y/N. Tonight or any other night. Got it?”

I nodded again, my throat too tight to speak.

The three of us, tangled in quiet and emotion, let the moment breathe. Axel rested against the curve of my legs. Ollie’s fingers softly traced circles on my back. Kimi’s hand held mine, firm and warm.

I didn’t know when I drifted back to sleep, but this time, there was no crash.

Just safety.

And peace.

And three souls anchoring me home.

Masterlist

Taglist

@widow-cevans @honethatty12 @wierdflowerpower @imlonelydontsendhelp @thatsnotaddy @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @littlesimps-world @dozyisdead @mizzy-pop @lost4lyrics @anunstablefangirl @nikfigueiredo @reiluvr @mymmyrym @ferrarisstrategy

#x reader #driver!reader #f1 #f1 angst #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 grid x reader #f1 imagine #f1 driver!reader

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slytherinn-xo · 1 year ago

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Swim Tryouts at 7:30- Danielle Van De Donk

Danielle Van De Donk X USWNT Player! Lyon Player! Reader

Synopsis: When Daan has football at 7:00 and swimming practice at 7:30, while at the world cup.

851 words

Being a US player that plays outside of the US is rare, like extremely rare, but being the only one to have never played in the NWSL, now that's rare.

I was born in the USA, raised in Memphis Tennessee, but when I was 14, I moved away to Germany as that's my father's home country. When I spent the next three years before I started off my career in the German Women's top League.

I've played for four leagues, now, starting off my career in the German League with Bayern Munich in 2017 for just one season. Getting to play with the greats over there, learning so much from Frido, Sara Dabritz, Jill Roord, Leupolz, and Leah Galton.

Before I signed with Arsenal in 2018, for the next three seasons, until 2021. Where we won the WSL title once, in my first season.

Which was where I met Daan, I fell in love to say the least. But she was already in love, with Beth Mead, so I watched on from the side lines, like I was waiting to be subbed on now.

But she was my best friend, it was her, me, Viv and Jill when she finally came and joined us. The Dutchies and the American.

But they were my family.

And then I moved to play for Barcelona for just one season after they won the Champions League in 2021 til 2022. Before I moved, and I got the chance to be with the girl I was in love with.

Daan.

So I joined in 2022, which was where we reconnected, and to say we both fell in love was the truth. We've been dating now for 10 months, and we do hide it, but we don't at the same time.

We're private people but not a secret.

So facing here now in the group stages of the Women's World Cup, it was hard.

But with less than 3 minutes to go of extra time was on the clock, and I turned back after the whistle was blown.

I just saw an orange shirt on the floor. "Who is it?" I asked Lindsay, my Lyon teammate, as I couldn't read from that far away. Well that and I'm dyslexic and can barely read myself.

"Daan." She muttered before I ran over to my girlfriend. I couldn't hide all of this, I was scared, my girlfriend is on the floor not bloody well moving.

"Schatje." I told Daan standing by her as she was led on the floor not moving, crouching by her as I had my hand on her shoulder.

"Poepie." Daan muttered back to me.

"Not that name." I told her with a smile, that was one good sign she could still understand me and knew who we were around her.

When the Dutch medics made their way over to Daan you saw the first showings of blood slowly coming out of her hair, but you had no idea how much there would be under there.

I wasn't given a choice but to move away from her as the Dutch staff moved me out of their way, pushing me back away from my girlfriend.

"No, stay!" Daan told me as she locked eyes with me, trying to reach her hands out to grasp onto me.

"I'm right here." I told her as I kept eyes with her.

I watched as they placed some gauze over her wound, before just placing a swimming cap over it.

I laughed at her.

"Not a word!" Daan told me, pointing that finger at me, wagging it at my face.

"You look like you've got swimming practice in half an hour." I told her with a smile.

"Oh shut up." Daan told me as she stood up.

"Make me!" I told her walking away from her backwards as she was escorted of the pitch before she could return to play.

"Are you two doing okay, it looked rough on the pitch?" The interviewer switched to English seeing me walk up to Daan, and I stood a bit behind my small gal.

"The best players are always the most competitive." I told the interviewer as I interrupted Daan's interview.

"Best friends?" The interviewer asked us both, as my arm was around Daan's shoulders but Daan's was holding onto my waist.

"The best." Daan answered like clockwork for us, squeezing my waist twice, doing our code, for when we wish we could say our feelings.

"Go get that checked out properly." I told Daan raising one eyebrow up at her, as she nodded, looking deep into my eyes.

"I will, ik houd van je." Daan told me, trying to politely kick me out of the interview.

"Ik houd van je." I told her back quickly kissing her before walking off to Lindsay who was gasping at my actions, before I froze.

"You didn't mean to do that?" Daan asked me.

"No I didn't!" I said shaking my head, before running back to kiss Daan one last time before running away back to Lindsay as we were both bright red in the face now.

#arsenal wfc x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #danielle van de donk #danielle van de donk x reader

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whenindoubtfangirlitout · 2 months ago

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Be Sweet - Chapter One

A/N: I'm so sorry for how late this came out 😭! I meant to post sooner, but I had schoolwork and medical school interviews. I also decided to make it multiple chapters, so here it is ☺️. I hope you enjoy!

The air was crisp; each stinging inhale filling Bruce's lungs with the obstinate reality of his languishing city. Watching the thick tendrils of smog billow from his nose to just dissipate into nothing only further reminded him of his failed efforts all those years ago. Every chip, every dent disappeared the instant he hung up the cowl. It was as if he'd never put it on at all. Like he had never existed…

Various technological advancements taunted him, making sure he remembered what forces were really in power, who was on the forefront to halt the city's progression. They acted as poorly wrapped bandages, Gotham's attempt to conceal its rampant crimes that continued to plague its streets. It seemed as if after every news report on a robbery, assault, or domestic attack there was word of a new gadget or building to draw citizens' eyes away from the travesties that surrounded them. Like a dog, they were being trained to ignore their realities and look forward to the occasional treat that would be tossed their way.

A gust of wind blew through and he shivered, shoving his gloved hands deeper into his pockets as he buried his nose further into his scarf. Ace's leash hung loosely around his wrist as the dog walked obediently beside him. Snow crunched with every slightly unsteady step, the sounding causing his jaw to clench and grinding his molars. He could already feel a tension headache building behind his eyes.

Poorly plowed paths left little room to walk. His shoulders bumped into almost every stranger he passed as he made his way through Robinson Park. As the city's infrastructure increased, the small outdoor spaces for citizens to relax slowly diminished — and so did the city's will to upkeep them. He would've brought his cane had he'd known the walkways were shit.

He paused as Ace sniffed a particular spot in what he assumed was snow covered grass. Though with the direction the city was heading, it could've been some new innovation to update the primitive areas within its perimeters.

His gaze trudged over the encompassing cityscape. The city in which he slaved over for years,nitpicking and agonizing over every little detail in his mission to make its streets safe. Despite his preference for isolation seclusion in his old age, he'd occasionally visit his old stomping grounds and ponder over whether his efforts ever really did make a difference. Did he ever inspire reform? Did he ever instill resilience? Did he ever really mean something to this city?

But every time, he'd come back, and without fail, he would witness one petty crime after another. Sometimes he'd even catch a glimpse of a larger, more organized illegal act — maybe something from the Jokerz or the Royal Flush Gang — forced to watch helplessly as he was now just some random face in the crowd. It was as if the city wanted him down, mercilessly barraging him with scenes he so desperately wanted to put a stop until he couldn't bear anymore. It had already forced him to break his moral code and now it was just mocking him as he settled into what he hoped were the last years of his life. The life he never really thought he'd live to see.

Sighing, he looked back to Ace, his eyes tracing over the mutt's silhouette. He was his only companion. The only thing he kept around after he walked away from the others when he hung up his cape. The only thing Bruce deemed worthy of keeping by his side as his once seemingly invincible body slowly decayed into a decrepit shell of what it once was. The only thing that saw him as what he wished himself to still be.

In the midst of his self loathing, something he'd found to be increasingly more frequent, a repetitive shout broke him from his contemplation.

"Sir!"

"Excuse me, sir!"

Bruce turned to look at the figure lightly jogging toward him clad in a bright yellow winter coat that was a stark contrast to Gotham's naturally dreary aesthetic.

You stopped in front of him, breathing slightly erratic as the cold scraped down your throat and pierced your lungs. "S-sir, you… you dropped this." Holding up your hand, you revealed a hickory brown wallet. You gripped the object precariously — between the pads of your thumb and two first fingers — almost as if the Italian leather burned to touch.

Bruce blanched as recognition slowly settled in as he observed the item in your hand. His wallet. His hand tightened into a fist in his pocket. That was his wallet. His lips thinned as he snatched it from your grasp, hastily shoving it back into his pocket as he grumbled out a "Thanks." He couldn't believe it. The day had finally come where his mind has begun to slip as well.

Completely unfazed by his rather curt attitude, your gaze shifted down to the large and vigilant canine beside Bruce, interest slowly piquing. Pulling your headphones around your neck, you gestured to Ace. "He yours?"

"I'm holding his leash, aren't I?" His brows furrowed in annoyance. What kind of question was that? Were you stupid?

"Doesn't always mean he's yours." Your eyes thoughtfully examined Ace, a small smile spreading across your lips. "What breed is he?"

Bruce huffed, having hoped the conversation would have been over by now. You'd returned his wallet and he thanked you. End scene. There was no other reason you needed to further interact. Though he mildly entertained you anyway. "Dunno. I just found him in an alley."

"Damn," you muttered, "all I ever find in alleys are weirdos and dog sized rats…"

Not waiting for a response, you suddenly knelt before the mutt, holding out a hand reddened from the cold towards him.

"Wait, he doesn't really like—" Bruce's words died on his tongue as he watched his dog nuzzle into your palm after a couple sniffs.

"Aw, what a big baby." You cooed at him, your other hand coming to fully encircle his head in a gentle embrace. It was like shoving a square peg into a round hole. Cropped ears stood at attention, his warm and sleek coat almost soothing your chapped hands. "Such a handsome boy, aren't ya? Unfortunate about your ears, but you're still pretty."

Bruce simply stood there gobsmacked as he took in the sight of some stranger baby talking his 140 pounds dog who seemed rather privy to the high pitched praise and gentle affection.

Giggles escaped you as Ace gave your cheek a sloppy kiss, using her sleeve to wipe off the excessive slobber. You stood as you lightly patted his head. "What a good boy."

"You have no survival instinct." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to register what was happening.

"Huh?" Your big eyes turned to him, blinking as you tried to understand the implication of his words.

"You openly approached a stranger with a large animal with absolutely no regard for the potential consequences the situation could have posed to you." He scolded you like a parent would a child. "I could've easily dropped my wallet on purpose to lure you to me."

"Did you?"

Bruce paused, momentarily taken aback. "Well, no, but the point still stands that I could've had nefarious intentions." He huffed, narrowing his eyes at your retort. "And besides, you're supposed to ask the owner before you pet their dog."

"You look like you would've said no." You shrugged as if that was a valid enough reason to just pet Ace without consideration for the dog's possible temperament that would've determined how the interaction played out. You'd deemed him friendly enough to approach.

He could feel a familiar vein pulsing in his forehead, a dull pressure slowly building behind his eyes as he pressed his forefinger and thumb into the sockets. He hadn't felt this kind of annoyance in a long time. "I'm going to walk away now."

You lifted your headphones back into place, nodding. "Okay, I gotta go anyway." You looked down at Ace, giving him another smile and wave as you began down the path again. "Bye, boy! Hopefully, I'll see you soon."

The old man's eyes lingered on your retreating figure, face pulled tightly into a scowl. A grumbled irritation slipped past his lips before he continued on his walk.

A/N: Again, I hope everyone enjoyed and thank you so much for reading! I'm still a novice at tumblr, but hopefully my posts will be more aesthetic with time. Also, I will be cross posting this on AO3 if you'd prefer to follow the fic there! I hope to get Chapter Two out in a more timely manner, but I'm about to graduate so I make no promises. Until next time ☺️!

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