#the pose the hair the face the everything

[changetyre]

Make a wish

SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)

"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 

Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 

Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 

You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  

But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 

"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 

"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 

"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 

"Wait what about the-" 

"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 

"But what if-" 

"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 

"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 

 __________

"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 

Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 

"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 

You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 

"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 

"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 

"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 

"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 

A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 

"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 

She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 

She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 

"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 

You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 

You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 

________

As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 

"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 

"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 

You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 

"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 

"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 

She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 

"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 

"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 

You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 

"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 

"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 

Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 

Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 

Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 

"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 

"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 

"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 

You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 

"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 

After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 

Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 

You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 

"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 

"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 

[oliversrarebooks]

a good grade in being brainwashed: wants and needs

Masterlist

tw: pet whump, bbu-adjacent, dehumanization, conditioning, references to drugging, references to dubcon

He was getting a good grade in being brainwashed, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

"He seems a little clingy, though."

B211's heart sank into his knees. He knew that was one of the absolute worst things a prospective owner could say about him, the very thing his handlers had spent so much time trying to train out of him. Don't cling. Don't be needy. Be affectionate, but only when your owner desires it. Be silent and still and obedient otherwise.

Don't be needy. Don't need. Don't want. Wants are for people. Your only wish is to please your owner.

He didn't miss the nasty glare that the salesman shot him before putting his customer service smile back on his face. "Yes, this one is very affectionate, which isn't to everyone's taste. Perhaps you'd be more interested in this Romantic…"

B211 fought down the whine in his throat as the customer removed her hand from his chin and walked over to one of the other Romantics, A797. He watched as A797 flawlessly executed each position, all with a smile that was just loving enough without seeming desperate. Just the way they'd all been taught.

God, B211 hated him.

B211 knew he could be the best Romantic in this whole damn showroom, if only he could be given a chance. He'd worked so hard at his training and conditioning, absorbing everything thrown at him, always striving to be the best in the room. He knew his quality -- he was eager to please any sort of master in any way they wished, ready and willing to become whatever they wanted him to be. Their lover, their fantasy, their toy, their shoulder to cry on. He was confident he could do it all.

And yet, here he was, left in the lurch yet another day. If things didn't look up, he'd spend another night in his cold bunk. Another night where his training headphones whispered to him about how much he craved touch and affection. Another day where he had to fight down his cravings so he didn't scare off potential owners. Another failure, another denial.

It was enough to make him want to pull his hair out, if that wouldn't absolutely ruin his appeal.

"I think I'm going to talk to your handler about another course of conditioning. I don't know how it's possible, but you've still got too much willfulness in that head of yours."

B211 scrambled down into a kneel, touching his head to the floor, as soon as he realized that the salesman was addressing him. "My sincere apologies, sir. I will endeavor to do better," he said, reciting one of his hundreds of programmed phrases.

"I can tell when a pet's more concerned with his own needs instead of the customer's," said the salesman disdainfully. "Honestly, you could probably do with another round on the Drip, wash that right out of your head. I think that's what I'm gonna recommend."

"Yes, sir," said B211, his inner elbow twinging with the feel of a phantom needle. He knew very well that he should accept whatever medication, training, or punishment he was given, as it was all to make him a better pet. But he hated the way the Drip made him feel, the way his mind was so slow and dim now, compared to --

No, that wasn't right. His mind had always been slow and dim. That's why he was well suited to being a pet. That's what they'd told him, why he'd signed up. He was slow, and dim, and unable to cope with life, unable to pretend to be a person. So he'd done the right thing and signed up. Instead of an endless cycle of pain and disappointment, he'd receive unconditional love and affection from an owner who truly wanted him. All he had to do was follow his training. Simple instructions. Practice these poses. Recite these mantras. Speak politely. Let go of your wants. Let go of your needs. Be perfect.

That was all he had to do.

He didn't actually remember signing up, of course, because the Drip had erased his memories (how many times). It was best for a pet to not remember (what didn't they want him to remember) so he could be blank and empty for his owner to fill with love (what was he before he was blank).

(was he ever loved)

He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. That's why he wasn't getting bought. Stupid, stupid.

"Well, B211? Do you have a problem with that?" the salesman demanded, pulling him back to reality.

"No, sir."

"Oh, I think you do. I can tell you have something to say. Out with it."

It was a trap. It was always a trap. He'd fallen into it before, he thought, although his memories of those times were hazy and tinged with pain. "I think whatever you and my handler decide for me would be best, sir."

He was being hauled upwards by his shirt, the salesman glaring down at him. "That's your problem. You shouldn't think. You should just get it right."

B211's mind searched for a better answer. Slow, too slow. "I want whatever training I'm given, sir. I want to be the best possible pet for my owner. I trust in my handlers to make me the best pet I can be."

"Better," he sneered.

The ring of a bell indicated another customer had arrived, sparing B211 the salesman's wrath for now. This particular salesman always liked to take it out on the pets when they weren't selling like he thought they should be.

All he wanted was to be touched and loved. Wasn't that what he had signed up for? He couldn't remember, of course, but that's the only thing it could have been. Why didn't anyone see that? Why didn't anyone pick him?

Maybe the salesman was right. Maybe he should go back on the Drip. He was thinking too much. Of course he was right -- his handlers always knew what was best for him.

"Oh, I'm not sure a Romantic is what I'm looking for, exactly," said a voice that was so strangely familiar. "I don't need -- I mean, I don't really have those kinds of needs."

B211 strained to hear the conversation in the other room, beyond the curtain separating the Romantic showroom from the rest of the pet store. That voice. He didn't know why, but wanted to hear more of that voice.

"There are a lot of unfortunate misconceptions about Romantics, and I'd say that the primary one is that they're only for sex," said the salesman. "That's absolutely not the case -- maybe ten years ago, but modern Romantics are so much more. They actually have much of the same programming as our platonic Companions, and even some Domestic capabilities. They're the perfect choice for a busy man who wants a little love in his life."

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them…"

The customer pushed aside the curtain leading to the Romantic showroom, and B211's heart stopped.

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin and darker curls, and large, sparkling eyes that he could get lost in. He was handsome, very much so, but that wasn't what caused B211's breath to catch in his throat -- he saw many handsome customers. No, there was something about this one that ran deeper than his looks. B211 was seized with an inexplicable, undeniable desire -- this man absolutely had to buy him. This man should be his owner.

(But pets weren't supposed to have desires.)

The customer was staring at B211, too, but not in the way he would prefer. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one," said the salesman. "He's a bit more high maintenance than our other Romantics, and you're looking for a pet that's very independent, right? I'm sure a lawyer doesn't have that much time to spend entertaining a pet, which is why I'm going to recommend this model…"

The customer, the lawyer, let himself be pulled away from B211's case, and B211 was filled with bubbling rage towards the salesman. Something flashed in his mind, a memory, perhaps, of fighting, of kicking and screaming, of having to be held down by four people as the IV was inserted into his arm --

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. He couldn't hate the salesman, or the handlers, who only wanted the best for him. If the lawyer wasn't a good fit…

He swallowed the lump in his throat. Why was this so important? He'd been passed up by so many people, what was one more to him?

B211 couldn't help but watch the lawyer out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he seemed bored with the other models the salesman was showing him. Distracted. He glanced back at B211, who quickly lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I think I have just the right fit for you!" said a bubbly saleswoman, emerging from the front of the store. She was leading along a man in a slouchy t-shirt and jeans, who was looking around the Romantics showroom in awe, as though he'd never seen so many pets. The saleswoman stopped in front of B211's case. "He's a refurb, so he's available at a discount! He's very affectionate and quite intelligent for a pet."

"Well, he's not bad looking," said this new customer. "Pet, introduce yourself."

B211 snapped to practiced attention. "Hello, sir, my designation is B211, and I'm a Romantic designation with additional Companion training. I enjoy cooking, old movies, and cuddling, and I'm always open to new adventures!"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. He's not really my type. I was hoping for something a little more… demure, do you have anything like that?"

"Certainly, sir, right this way!"

Normally, B211 would be devastated at losing another prospective buyer, but this time, all he could think about was the lawyer. The lawyer who was currently standing in front of the showroom's most expensive pet, being given the hard sell.

"…and he can do anything you want, sir. He'll be there for you when you need companionship, and quiet and out of the way when you need space. He's fully automated and intelligent enough to serve as a personal assistant or run a household. And when it comes to his Romantic skillset… he's very easy to please, and very eager and capable of pleasing others. If this pet is within your budget, I think he'd be the best suited to your needs, sir."

His needs. What were the lawyer's needs? Pets didn't have needs, couldn't have needs. B211 knew he could do whatever that so-called premium model could. But the lawyer probably had more than enough money to go premium, and why would he buy a discounted refurb when he could buy a brand-new luxury model?

"He does seem like an ideal fit…" said the lawyer.

"Would you like to spend a little time with him? I'm sure once you do, you won't be leaving this showroom alone."

"Well… maybe… but I'm still interested in that one. The one I saw when I first came in."

And the lawyer looked straight at B211.

It was impossible, wasn't it? Why would he be interested in B211 when a premium model was an option? Did he actually recognize B211's value? Was that why he'd been so drawn to this man as an owner?

The lawyer walked his way. B211 tried his hardest to read the expression on his face -- an essential skill for Romantics, to be able to read their master's smallest emotions -- but came up short. He couldn't tell what this man was thinking at all.

But his eyes looked kind. And B211 felt…

It was a feeling he couldn't place. It wasn't happy, or aroused, or quiet, or agreeable. B211 suspected it was one of those feelings he wasn't supposed to be having, one that the Drip was supposed to wash out of him.

"Are you sure, sir?" said the salesman, trailing after him. "This one is a refurb, you know. That's why he's on a discount."

"A refurb? Do you know why he was returned?" The lawyer's eyes never left B211.

"Ah, his original owner simply found a new relationship, and was displeased with the amount of attention this Romantic required. He's been wiped of those memories, and we've done our best to train out his unfortunate need for attention, of course, but he'd be a risk compared to our premium models, which can all be customized just for you for only a small additional fee…"

The lawyer wasn't paying attention to the salesman at all as he continued his pitch. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

And B211 finally placed what that strange feeling was. Safe. The lawyer made him feel safe. It wasn't something he had felt in training. It was something much older, something he shouldn't remember.

"I want to buy this one," said the lawyer abruptly, cutting off the salesman's patter.

The salesman couldn't hide his shock. "Are you sure, sir? There's no rush. We'd be happy to put a model on hold for you for a small deposit if you'd like more time to make up your mind."

"I've made up my mind. I want this one." The uncertainty on his face from a moment ago was gone, his voice firm. Firm enough that B211 dared to hope.

"If you're certain, then… I'll draw up the paperwork. But keep in mind that we don't accept returns on refurbished pets."

"I won't be returning him."

And the lawyer smiled at B211, actually smiled.

And someone had finally seen him. Someone wanted him. Someone was going to love him.

All he had to do was not screw it the fuck up.

Masterlist

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 5. Other Parts Word count: 3,8k words Short summary: Reader is preparing her escape, slowly losing it over her confusing feelings. Sabo is in his stalker era. AN: Dear God, I don't know what took over me when writing this. Let me begin with saying I don't condone stalking irl, this is just a silly self-indulgent fic. There is also mentions of a knife at one point, more as a joke, but it's there. Still nothing graphic. Smut will come in the next one, which will also be the last part. Thank you for reading!💕

MDNI 18+

(This man is way too pretty for his own good)

___

Almost three days had passed since Y/N became aware of Sabo’s true identity. And of the real threat he posed to her. He was dangerous, not just because he probably could crush her windpipe with little to no effort.

No, the real reason Sabo was so dangerous was because of his goddamn charm. Always helpful, always making her flustered. Always making her laugh against her will. It was still impossible for her to keep it together when she was near him.

He was playing a sick, sadistic game with her feelings. He wanted to kill her for god sake! And, even though those horrid facts were clear to her, Y/N’s heart still wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw him.

And that was probably saying more about how messed up she was. Desperately clinging to the first person that ever showed her concern, even though she knew it was fake. Pathetic.

She kept having this one recurring dream. Being alone in a dark room, until the door suddenly opens, and Sabo walks with a smug grin on his face.

He stands behind her, places her wrists behind her back, and then proceeds to let his hands travel all over her body. Cold leather from his gloves caressing her skin as he presses soft kisses down her neck and back.

His movements growing more impatient as he takes a strong grip around her hair, pulling her against him. Then, just before the dream ends, his other hand snakes around her neck, cutting the air from entering her lungs.

And it excites her! Y/N always wakes up feeling hot and tingly after that dream, which means that something must be seriously wrong with her.

The man wants to kill her and she gets excited by the thought of him choking her?! That can’t be normal, it just can’t.

Besides her internal crises that she still had the hots for her future potential murderer, everything else was going as planned. 

After spending a half-day crying over the fact that the handsome, cruel man had tricked her just for his own pleasure, Y/N finally pulled herself together and started planning her escape. She was not willingly staying in this cursed base just to later be dragged to the execution stand.

So she had made a list, things she needed to secure her safety once she left. All the things she had spent the last few days gathering. Things that now were securely kept in a bag in her closet. 

She had also visited the small library more than once, reading every book on wilderness survival she could find. Memorizing pictures of what plants were safe to eat and which ones she should avoid. It wouldn’t exactly be ideal if she ran away from torture and her own murder, just to then die of food poisoning.

Y/N had done all these things, and she was painfully aware of the fact that she had been watched. 

Sabo was always near, following her like some curious cat, trying to figure out what the mouse he was hunting was doing. She was the mouse in this scenario, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. 

He looked amused the entire time too, huge grin on his face, probably getting some twisted sense of pleasure from watching her from afar. It was annoying, and Y/N was pretty sure stalking counted as a crime. But so was trying to overthrow the World Government, so Sabo might just not care that he was breaking the law.

It didn’t matter anyways, she had already gathered everything she needed and her planned escape was happening tomorrow.

She was currently pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten about something. 

Who was she kidding, she most definitely had.

She hadn’t stepped foot outside the castle gates her entire life before two weeks ago, and now she was planning to survive out in the wilderness all by herself. It was a recipe for disaster.

But if the choice was between dying of hypothermia in freedom, or in the hands of the Revolutionary Army and her handsome tormentor, Y/N would choose freezing cold freedom everyday of the week.

Suddenly, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Jane Doe, you in there?” An obnoxious, honey-sweet voice could be heard on the other side.

Hate that stupid nickname.

He seriously needed to stop doing this. For the last couple of mornings, at the same time everyday, Sabo had knocked on her door, asking if she was there.

And Y/N never answered, pretending that she wasn’t in the room. He usually stayed outside for a few minutes before he left, which was probably going to be the case today too.

She heard Sabo let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if you’re there, but I’m coming in.” He stated, like he wasn’t about to invade the last personal space she had at this godforsaken base.

Goddamnit… She had locked the door, right?  

No, this wasn’t the time to take any chances, she needed to hide. Who knew what god awful thing he would do to her if he found her.

Y/N quickly scanned the room for a hiding spot. Under the bed was too obvious, even she knew that. As her eyes landed on the small built-in closet, she heard the doorknob starting to turn. She didn’t have the time to be picky, she needed to hide, now!

Just as she had slid the closet shut, the bedroom door flew open. The small wooden planks of the closet door barely gave her any vision of the room, but the gap was wide enough to see Sabo mindlessly walk in. Not a care in the world, like he belonged in there.

‘He wishes.’ Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes.

Then she noticed that he was looking at the closet, straight at her, with a serious look that spelled nothing but trouble. She could swear that her heart was trying to crack her ribcage open by how hard it was beating.

She put her hands over her mouth, careful to not make a sound, as Sabo’s eyes lingered on her hiding spot for a few more seconds. Then an amused grin spread over his face, before he turned around and started to look around her room.

Dear God, that had been a close call.

“Are you hiding from me, Angel?” Sabo chuckled, bending down to look under the bed.

Since his blatant fake confession he had called her that from time to time. Some new way to play tricks on her mind for sure. And Y/N always berated herself when she heard it, because it made her stupid heart flutter every time.

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Besides studying up on how to survive on her own, she had read a few books on psychology during her visits to the library. In those she had learned about this thing called *Stockholm Syndrome*, basically when a captive believes they are in love with their capturer. 

And Y/N had let out a sigh of relief when she read that. It explained every warm feeling she had for the man that she was 95% sure wanted to chop her head off in front of a crowd. The other 5%, well… that was the dumb sliver of hope that still lingered in the back of her mind. 

A sliver of hope that she consciously ignored. She wasn’t in her right mind, she had been manipulated by that handsome devil, and the strange thoughts she had about him couldn’t be trusted.

She had to stick to what she knew, and that was that Revolutionaries hated Nobles with a burning passion. At least, that had to be the case when the revolutionary in question was their Second in Command.

The closet walls were starting to feel cramped as she continued to watch Sabo mindlessly prance around her bedroom. He picked up her pillow, brought it to his face and let out a low groan as he took a deep inhale through his nose, making Y/N really question the man’s sanity. Was he trying to memorize her scent in case he had to hunt her down? 

What was he? A goddamn bloodhound or something?

She let out a quiet scoff when he put the pillow back, seeing a satisfied look on his face. She shouldn't have done that.

His eyes zeroed in on her again, a wicked smile spreading over his lips, making Y/N forget how to breathe. 

A shiver went down her spine as she watched Sabo move closer, stopping right outside the closet. He was so close she could feel him towering over her through the door. 

“Are you in here, Angel? Please answer if you are.” 

Dear God, please don’t open it.

Someone was apparently listening to her prayer, since he abruptly turned around, when Y/N was just seconds from passing out due to the lack of air in her lungs.

“Bummer, guess she’s not here then.” Sabo said in a monotone voice, putting his hand to his cheek in a dramatic manner.

He started to walk towards the door. She couldn’t believe it, she was actually going to get through this without being found.

Then, Sabo stopped in the middle of his step, right as he walked by her dresser. He carefully opened the top draw, which wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

“Hmm… I might as well since I’m already here.” He snickered as he took something out and stuffed it in his pocket, quickly leaving the room right after.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Y/N fell out of the closet and landed on the floor. Too shocked from what she just had witnessed.

“Did- did he just steal my underwear?” She whispered to herself, as she felt a warm flush spread over her face.

Was Sabo a pervert?

Because that would explain sooo much. She laid on the floor, pondering on her theory for a few moments, before she rolled over on her back and let out a weird, nervous laugh.

“Yes, definitely a pervert… Just gonna add that to the list of reasons why he needs to be avoided at all cost.” Y/N concluded, questioning how she had gotten herself in this situation to begin with.

___

So fucking angelic.

There was no other way of describing her. Even though she had actively been avoiding him for the past few days and making him watch her from afar. 

But Sabo could forgive that. She was obviously planning something, and the most optimistic part of himself had convinced him that it was going to be a surprise.

He didn’t know what kind of surprise yet, but he looked forward to it. A little too much in fact.

He had watched his Angel gather all sorts of things, swiping snacks from the pantry when she thought no one was looking. Snatching blankets and other fabrics from the laundry, candles and matches from the storage. 

All things that were needed for a romantic date. 

Sabo still wasn’t sure why she needed all the tools she stole from the supply closet, nor did he understand what she was going to use a tarp for.

But he almost lost his shit yesterday when he saw her sneak a rope into her bag. If his, quite frankly, dirty mind was right and she wanted him to tie her up with it, he might have to marry her on the spot. 

The knife however, that was still a bit concerning… But hey, he was willing to try out whatever she had in mind at least once.

No matter what she was doing, these past few days had convinced him.

She had continued to play their little game, even though the rules had changed a bit. AND, she was planning a romantic surprise for him. That girl understood him so well.

She liked him, maybe just as much as he liked her, if that even was possible.

Sabo knew his obsession was starting to get a little out of hand. Or in all honesty, “a little” would be an understatement. 

He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal. Watching her go about her day, keeping tabs on where she was, at what time in the morning she was leaving her bedroom and when she usually returned. Putting it in a more brutal way, he was stalking her.

God- that girl brought out dark things in him he wasn’t even aware were there before. Last night he spent at least two hours convincing himself that, sneaking into her room through her window while she was sleeping, wasn’t a good idea. 

It wasn’t, he knew that. No matter how much that girl had messed with his moral compass, he knew that it would be crossing a line.

But he just wanted to hear the sweet voice he had been deprived of hearing for the last few days, even if it was her yelling at him to get out.

That’s why he went to see her this morning, to talk to her. Not about anything special, he just wanted to see her pretty mouth move, until his mind was filled with nothing but the sweet sound of her voice.

Sabo knew she had been in there, observation haki really becoming handy in these kinds of situations. But she hid in her closet when he stepped into her room.

And if she wanted to play Hide and Seek, who was he to deprive her of that fun? 

Plus, he had gotten a little prize for playing along.

Still, things had started to become a little boring for him.

At first, it had been exciting seeing her turn a corner every time he was near. Watching her look over her shoulder to see if he was there. It was twisted- but fuck- just knowing she was constantly thinking about him brought him so much joy.

Even if she was doing it in an attempt to avoid him, Sabo couldn’t be mad about it. She was obviously still trying to muster up the courage to face him after his blatant confession.

It was cute.

He had imagined her confessing her feelings for him so many times at this point. Nervous stutters leaving her mouth, a flustered blush spreading over her face.

God- Just the thought made him want to do unspeakable things to that poor girl. 

And in any normal case, Sabo was nothing but patient. With her however, not so much. 

Like previously stated, watching her had been fun for a while. But he was done with just watching now, he wanted to be with her. Being close to her, talking to her, teasing her. Seeing her smile, laugh or just resting peacefully on his chest.

So, at this moment he was in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and going over his options on how to best approach her.

Jane Doe was sitting at a table a bit further away, reading a book in peace. Looking absolutely angelic.

Besides the two of them, the rest of the room was empty. And dammit, if there hadn’t been so many unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out first, he would probably pin her to that table right this moment.

Hitching that cute, little skirt up over her hips as he left kisses up and down her gorgeous legs. Teasing her to the brink of insanity until she begged him to touch her. Eating her out like a man starved for food-

Yeah, that was definitely not happening yet.

The second best option was to go over there, trying to make her flustered enough to at least blush. Which shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.

So Sabo did just that, walking over with a statement that was suggestive enough in mind. He stopped right behind her chair, bending down close to her ear, feeling a bit amused when he saw her flinch.

“You know, I had this dream last night- and fuck- your hands felt so soft against my skin. Like an Angel touching my very soul.” He said in a low voice, blowing a puff of hot air against her neck.

It was true, he really dreamt that last night. He had been kinda pissed off when he woke, not wanting the wonderful dream to end.

And he knew how much his little nickname affected her, she was so bad at hiding her true feelings.

“Dear God, why?” The girl asked under her breath, making Sabo chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down across from her.

“Why? Cause you’re cute, and funny, and ignoring me. So you’re obviously my type.” He stated, watching her mindlessly turn to the next page in her book.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She answered, looking up at him for the first time.

“Perfect.” Sabo sighed, getting completely lost in her eyes.

He barely had the chance to catch the pretty blush that spread over her face, before she turned her head down.

But it was there, he saw it, and it made his chest fill with pride. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he could still make her flustered anytime he wanted to.

“Are you bothered by me being here?” He asked, giving her a teasing smile.

“Yes. I want to be alone.” She said curtly in response, not paying him more attention than necessary.

It was selfish, and probably a bit dumb. But Sabo wanted her attention to be on him, and not on some stupid book. What was so interesting about it anyways, for her to not look at him? He was way more interesting-

God, he really needed to seek professional help, didn't he? He was jealous over a fucking book.

“What are you reading anyway?” He scoffed, failing to keep his displeasure in.

“None of your business.” She snapped back, voice deprived of any warmth.

Shit, was she annoyed? That couldn’t be good…

“Why are you so snappy today?” Sabo asked, needing to know if all of it was just in his head.

“I’m not.” She bit out, jaw visibly clenching. 

If it was one thing Sabo took pride in, it was that he was good at reading people. But not this girl apparently, making her an exception in yet another way. 

He must have fucked up big during the last couple of days for her to be this mad with him. Was it the stalking? Had he taken it too far? 

“Yes you are. Did I do something to make you upset? I’ll try to fix it if you tell me.” He said, trying to reach for her hand, but she quickly moved it away.

“I said I’m not. Just drop it.” 

Was this their first fight? 

Sabo might not have been in any real long term relationship before, but he wanted this to work. He needed this to work, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from being rejected by her. 

He knew that communication was important in any healthy relationship, so her avoiding the topic wasn’t going to cut it.

“I will drop it, if you tell me what’s wrong. I don’t want you to be angry at me and-”

“Can you just back the fuck off and leave me alone?” She said with an irritated tone, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

Oh fuck, she’s mad mad.

She swore… she actually swore. That was a word Sabo thought he never would hear leave his Angel's beautiful mouth.

Was this about the underwear? He knew she had been hiding in the closet when he “borrowed” them, but he didn’t think she would be this angry about it.

“Is this about what I took from your room? Because I was going to give-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”

“Okay, so I must have done something else then… I'm sorry?” He said, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

She didn’t say anything more. She just let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the book shut, leaving it on the table and walked away. Leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts.

Goddamnit!

He messed up, this was not how he wanted things to go. Had he been wrong the entire time? Had she actually been mad at him, and was that the reason she avoided him to begin with? Had they not just been playing their usual silly game?

Fuck, maybe had he come on too strong three days ago. He did choke her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the reason. But she said she liked it, right?

Sabo was about to go crazy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, when his eyes landed on the green cover of the book she had been reading.

He picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him.

“ *Outdoor Survival for Beginners*- what the actual?” He flipped through the pages, as something clicked in his brain. “Shit-”

Jane Doe was planning on running away…

It all made sense now. Why she avoided him, why she had gathered all those different things. Why she had been so defensive just moments ago.

(Why she hadn’t told him she liked him too.)

She was leaving, and she didn’t want anything left behind. It made sense, he would do the same thing if he knew he was leaving. It was plain cruel to confess your feelings to someone, just to be gone a few days later.

That’s why he had confessed to her. He wasn’t exactly planning on leaving her anytime soon, and he wanted her to know that.

Still, the only thing that didn’t make sense was her reason. Why would she want to run away?

She liked it here, Sabo saw how happy she looked whenever she helped around the base. How well she got along with Koala. How peaceful she had looked that morning when she slept on his chest.

In fact, why was she even hiding her identity to begin with? He hadn’t thought about it more than in passing, his mind usually being too preoccupied with holding his urges back around her.

Something wasn’t right…

“I might have to speed some things up.” Determination took over him.

Her plan was batshit crazy to begin with. She couldn’t even cook, how the fuck was she going to survive alone in the woods? She would die, hungry, freezing and alone, within a couple of days.

Sabo couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he cared for again. Not after Ace-

No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. 

He had a few very urgent house calls to make.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ 너 말곤 전부 사라진 my world / 내 모든 시간에 오직 너만이 가득 차

little things zb1 maknae line do as your boyfriend

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), got a ton of inspo from this fic by @luvh4nji !! first reaction for zb1 :)), ricky calls reader beautiful, i am a red haired gyuv enthusiast my apologies, mentions of insecure yujin, not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes <33 title from zb1 - crush

SHEN RICKY always gives you little gifts. 

“i got you something.” 

“ricky,” you chuckle softly as you shake your head. your lips quirk into a smile as you set your phone aside, turning to face him. “you didn’t need to.” 

“but i wanted to.” he shrugs nonchalantly. “i always want to.” 

ricky twirls the stem between his finger as he holds it out for you to admire. you softly gasp at the sight, admiring the hues of pink and white and decorating the flower petals. “it’s beautiful!” 

“here,” his touch is feather-light as he reaches up, carefully brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. butterflies swarm throughout your stomach and shivers race down your spine at the feeling. “let me.” 

ricky smiles sheepishly as he delicately tucks the flower behind your ear, careful not to let any petals fall. you can faintly smell the sweetness radiating from it. you smile brightly as you tilt your head to the side to pose. “how do i look?”

stepping forwards, he cups your face between his hands. ricky leans in, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek. they feel soft against your skin - tinted a soft shade of baby pink and routinely coated in strawberry chap stick. he smiles when he pulls away, a light flush quickly spreading across his skin. “beautiful.”

KIM GYUVIN is always holding your hand. 

amidst the bustling crowd, you peek over the tops of heads and behind shoulders as you search for gyuvin throughout the crowd. wires stretch across the ceiling like vines. you only catch glimpses of muted conversations when staff members pass you by.

it only takes a small gap in the crowd before you recognize him, his red hair a sharp contrast to the black boxes behind him. “gyuvin!” 

his eyes widen. he watches you in shock for a moment before he immediately begins rushing towards you. “you’re here,” gyuvin whispers shakily. his grip tightens around your waist as he leans in, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. 

“i’m here,” you chuckle. you rub your hands against his back in an attempt to soothe him, careful not to wrinkle the thin fabric of his stage outfit. gyuvin’s hands cup your face when he pulls away, gently trailing along your jawline. a deep flush rises to his cheeks despite the thin layer of foundation covering his face. 

“there’s so much i want to show you.” gyuvin smiles brightly. his large hands envelop your own, intertwining your fingers together with ease. shivers race down your spine when his thumb casually brushes against your knuckles. he squeezes your hand once. “just follow me.” 

PARK GUNWOOK is clingy. 

the sunset casts a golden glow across the train car, illuminating the horizon in the distance. its wheels scrape against the rails, creating a quiet hum that drones on for hours. you turn to look out the window. flashes of trees and seemingly never ending hills eventually give way to acres of flat fields, filled with crops ready for harvest. 

you startle slightly when gunwook’s head falls against your shoulder; stray strands of his hair tickle against the bare skin of your neck. he all but slumps his body against yours, letting a deep sigh escape him. your bodies mold together like puzzle pieces. 

“is everything okay?” you whisper. you reach upwards to carefully push a strand of hair away from gunwook’s eyes. he leans into your touch slightly, smiling softly when you allow him to lean his cheek against your palm.

“yeah,” he mumbles in response. his voice is low and raspy. the telltale signs of sleep slip into his words. gunwook looks up at you with rosy cheeks and tired eyes full of love and admiration. it’s enough to make your heartbeat a little bit faster and butterflies swarm throughout your stomach. “just want you.” 

HAN YUJIN tells you everything. 

“yujin,” you whisper. he nervously chews on his bottom lip, anxiously staring up at the continuous spin of your ceiling fan. moonlight illuminates your bedroom, painting the walls silver. “what’s on your mind?” 

yujin curls into your side, abandoning any embarrassment in the night. his legs entangle with your own beneath your blankets. “i’ve been thinking,” he whispers, so quiet that you almost miss the words entirely beneath the hum of the air conditioner. “about performing. about the concerts.”

“are you nervous?” he nods, tucking his face into the comforter. “you’re an incredible performer. all the work you’ve done to improve is showing, even if you don’t think it is. you’ll be amazing out there - i know you’ll be. and if you need any help, i’m here. and so are the members.”

carefully, you begin to card your fingers through his hair. yujin sighs softly in response, nuzzling his head even further into your pillows. you can all but feel him relax against your touch. “how are you feeling now?” 

“better,” he says, muffled against the fabric. twisting to face you, yujin sleepily smiles up at you. “thank you.” 

you smile softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against his temple. he takes a deep breath in response, finally allowing his eyes to flutter closed. “sweet dreams, jinnie.”

if you liked this fic, please comment, reblog, or leave feedback !! and if you want to support me, check out my zb1 masterlist <33

[mama2bears]

Matters Of The Heart

This was a request messaged to me by @lonewolf830. I am going to try to drag this out and make a little longer story out of your idea. I hope you like the direction it goes!

Pairings: Scott/F.Reader(Scott is an ass), future Tyler/F.Reader

Warnings: A few swear words. Tornado damage. (Future Chapters will have Whump, hurt/comfort, and angst.) Inaccurate weather stuff

Summary: You are new to Storm Par and Tyler Owens is already chasing you. Scott has already asked you out on a date and warned you against Tyler, so you brush off Tyler, believing everything Scott has told you. However, when you are put in danger, it's always Tyler running to your rescue. You begin to wonder if maybe Tyler isn't all that bad after all.

Chapter 1

You were standing in the parking lot, gazing out over the horizon at the building storm clouds. The wind gently blew though your hair. A large group of storm chasers were gathering in preparation for the upcoming expected tornado outbreak across Oklahoma. This was your first day on the job with the Storm Par company. Your job was to track the storm's location and they were to follow it, gather information, and for reason's you didn't yet understand, you were suppose to help get property information on the places that got destroyed.

The sudden blare of country music filled the air along with the roar of an engine. You look up to see a red Dodge Ram pull in followed by a van and RV. A guy in a white cowboy hat and sun glasses gets out as a crowd surround the truck.

“If you feel it....” he yelled.

“CHASE IT!!!” the crowd yells back.

“I said IF YOU FEEL IT....” He yelled a little louder and the crowd responded with “CHASE IT!”

You watched for a few moments as he was laughing and signing autographs as he posed for photos.

“Alright you tornado nerds!” a woman yelled from the RV, holding some shirts up. Everyone flocked to her with money in hand.

You shook your wondering what kind of crazy that group of storm chasers were, and why did it seem like everyone loved them so much. The wind shifted and you turned your attention back to the sky.

“Hey. I'm Tyler. You new to chasing?” a deep voice came from behind.

You turned to see the guy in the white cowboy hat that was just surrounded by a group of fans. You couldn't help but notice the sparkle in his green eyes when he took off his glasses, or the way he smiled, the stumbled face.

“Yeah, first day.” you gave him a soft smile, “I am Y/N.” you extend a hand to him.

His rough callused hand felt strong and warm, yet tender as he shook your hand, “What team you with?” he asked.

“Storm Par.”

“Oh...them.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “You can do better then that, you know.”

“What's wrong with Storm Par? They seem like a really nice company, and the pay is great.”

“Y/N! Let's go!” Scott, your partner barked from across the parking lot.

“Well, gotta go.” you gave Tyler another smile. “It was really nice to meet you. You seem to have quite the following.”

“I do.” he nodded and tipped his cowboy hat at you, “Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

Standing there, he watched you walk away, his eyes following the movement of your butt swaying. 'Hope to see you again soon.' he thought to himself.

“Hey.” you call to Scott as you get in the truck, “Looks like we need to head west.”

“What the hell were you doing talking to Owens?” Scott yelled, causing you to jump.

“Owens? His name was Tyler.” you say, a bit startled, “He was just being nice, introducing himself.”

“Tyler OWENS is his name, and he's nothing but trouble. Stay away from him.” Scott muttered, looking at the data on the laptop you held. “You sure about the west? I think the East holds more promise.” he muttered.

“Go west. Trust me.” you smile at him.

“Fine. West it is. But if you're wrong, it's your ass. Not mine.” He sped out of the parking lot.

“Come on. Let's go.” Tyler jumped into the truck, seeing the same thing you just had. “We're going west.”

“What's so wrong with Tyler?” you ask once on the road.

“He's Mr. YouTube star. He sells merch to make a buck off of everyone. He's got a new girl every night it seems. He thinks he's some Mr. Big shot, better then everyone else. He reels you in with that Mr. Nice Guy act and then he uses you for whatever you're good for and tosses you out like trash.”

“Oh.” you are taken aback by Scott's harsh words. Tyler didn't come across as that type of person from your first meeting, but...that was one meeting. He was selling stuff and he did have a large following. You could believe what Scott was telling you. After all, Scott had been doing this for several years and probably knew Tyler a lot better then you would have from just a quick meeting. “Thanks for the warning.” you gave a smile to Scott.

“Oh come on, you didn't actually fall for his act? Did you?” Scott looked over at you with a look of disbelief.

“Well...I mean...he wasn't bad to look at and he was nice.” you grin with a shrug.

“Really, Y/N? I thought you were smarter then that.”

“Make a right here.” you say. “I was just going off my first impression. I am sure I would have figured him out pretty quickly on my own...but seriously, thank you for the warning. I can avoid that heartbreak.”

Scott pulls off to the right and follows a dirt road. “Avoid him all together. He's bad news.” he muttered, “Hey, if you want to go out and have a good time, let me know. I'll take you out. I am not a womanizer like he is.”

“Oh, is that so?” you grin, “You mean to tell me someone as nice looking as you doesn't have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” Scott shook his head, “Not many girls want to go chasing after tornadoes.” he shoots you a look, his eyes seemly undressing you and he grins, “What you say, sweetie? Go out with me tonight?”

You shrug, “Okay, sure. If it's not against company policy or anything.”

“Not at all.” Scott grins, “We'll go down to the Reno bar tonight. It's right down the road from the hotel. Sound good?”

“Sure...” you start to say and then scream, “SCOTT! WATCH OUT!”

Music blasts from the speakers as Tyler's red Dodge Ram cuts you off. He is yelling something at you, but over the music and Scott cussing, you can't hear what it is...you don't really care at the moment.

“Asshole!” Scott was yelling as he fought to get the truck back on the road.

Suddenly, Tyler turned his truck sideways, blocking your path.

“What the HELL man!” Scott rolls down his window yelling.

“TURN AROUND! It's an EF 5 up ahead! Check your data again. You can't drive THAT truck into an EF5! I wouldn't drive MY truck into one. TURN AROUND!” Tyler yelled.

“Fuck you man!” Scott tried to drive around but Tyler pulled forward, bumping into the white Storm Par truck.

“Listen, if you want to get yourself killed, go for it! But don't be taking her into that!” Tyler yelled, his eyes locking on yours. “Y/N, check the data. Am I right?”

You frantically punch the keys on the laptop refreshing the screen. “Oh my God.” you gasp. “Scott, he's right. It's MASSIVE! We gotta turn around.”

“Fine...Whatever.” Scott turns the truck around and glares at you, “Why the hell did you tell me to go this way if it's an EF5! YOU told me to turn right. I did that!”

“It wasn't that big when I checked it last! It just blew up!” you try to defend yourself. This was a great first impression. “Sorry.” you muttered.

“Just...pay more attention next time.” he said.

“I will.” you mutter, refreshing the feed again on the laptop, “Looks like the tornado is moving to the west. It's out of the town now. We should go back there and see if we can be of any help. I can't imagine the destruction..”

Scott pulls the truck into a parking lot and glares at you, “If you are going to work with Storm Par, you've got to understand time is money. We don't get paid to help people. We get paid for the storm data, we get paid for the property data...we don't get paid to help. That's someone else's job...not ours.”

You nod and he turns around heading back into town. As you drive though, you see houses and businesses completely leveled. You notice Tyler's truck parked among the rumble and he was climbing over a destroyed house calling for what you guessed was a dog. The woman from the RV was selling stuff from the back of it and another girl was walking around with food and water, passing them out.

It looked like they were helping, but you also could see what Scott said about them selling stuff was true.

“It's all a show.” Scott's voice cuts into your thoughts. “They brag about how much they help so they can get more money from their followers and more people will want to buy shirts. They aren't really helping, they're only promoting themselves.” he scoffed.

You sigh as he stops the truck, “Here. Go give our card to everyone who's lost their home or business. Tell them we make cash offers for their properties. Get information from all who are interested and then run some numbers for us. See what the property value is and make sure we find out what kind of insurance they have.”

“Scott, are you sure this is the right time for that? I mean, they JUST lost everything...should we really be swooping in offering to buy whatever they have left?” you frown. Your heart broke for these people and this idea just wasn't sitting right with you.

“It's our job. It's what we do.” Scott sighed, “Seriously Y/N. I thought you were excited about this job! So far all you've done was almost got us killed and complained! If we don't get to them now someone else will and we will lose out on that money.”

“Alright. You're right. I am sorry. I am just trying to learn this job.” you sigh and get out of the truck, walking up to a lady and introducing yourself. She was in tears. “I am so sorry. If you need anything, call us at Storm Par.” you give her a hug. “Did you have insurance on the house?”

“No.” the woman cried shaking her head.

“I am so sorry.” your heart broke for her, “Storm Par would be willing to make a cash offer on your land. If that's the road you want to take, give us a call.”

“Okay.” she mumbled, and walked away calling for her cat.

“Hey, Y/N...close call there.” Tyler jogged up to your side. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you. For stopping us. It's my fault, I should have been paying attention.”

Tyler frowned, “It's not your fault. That storm just exploded. We were following it too. It didn't look that big and then wham, all of a sudden it was a monster. Once you guys got turned around we drove on into town to try to warn as many people as possible and get them into shelter.”

You nod, “And sell your brand, I see.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” Tyler frowned.

“Don't worry. Scott told me all about you and what you do.” you turn and walk away in a huff.

“Did he also tell you what Storm Par is all about?” Tyler yelled after you.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Scott runs up to you after seeing that you were talking to Tyler, “Is he bothering you again?”

“Nothing I can't handle.” you smile at Scott, “I am really sorry I messed things up before.”

“It's okay. It's your first day. You'll learn. What did you find out on the properties?” he asked.

“That lady there has no insurance. I gave her a card and told her Storm Par would be interested.”

“Good girl. See, you're getting it.” Scott pulls you into a hug and looks back to see Tyler glaring at him. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, “I am looking forward to our date tonight.”

You blush slightly as Scott winks at you and jogs back to the truck.

“Hey, you want water or food or anything?” A girl asks. You recognize her as one of the people on Tyler's crew. “No, I am good. I am not giving you any money.”

“It's not about the money. We give away food and water when we get to a disaster scene. That's why we sell the merchandise. We sell to those who are able to afford to buy it. We give to those who can not. We give away almost as many shirts as we sell. The money we get from the sales goes to buy food and water for the victims and volunteers helping.”

“Oh. I had heard something different.” you say, “I am still okay. We've got stuff back in the truck and I am heading there to run some numbers for them.”

“Okay, whatever. If you change your mind come on over. We have plenty.” she walked away, handing out a sandwich and water to the woman you spoke to earlier.

You walk slowly back to the truck and get in, hearing Scott talking to someone on the phone about buying properties and who didn't have good insurance and those who did. Scott hanged up and gave you smile. “Let's go get something to eat.”

“I don't think that's a great idea right now.” you say, looking at the radar. “Look, this cell to the south is looking bad.”

Scott glances at it and shrugs, “I've seen worse. Let's go. I am hungry.”

Tyler looks at the sky to the south and watches as Scott turns and heads directly into the oncoming storm.

“Shit.” he muttered, then turned and waved at his team. “I'll be back in a bit.” he called and ran to his truck, firing it up and taking off after you and Scott. He didn't care if Scott wanted to get himself killed, but he'd be damned if he was going to let you be put in danger because of it.

[leighbaylee]

— TRANCE

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , nate jacobs 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2500

summary. nate realizes he is the luckiest guy ever. fuck maddy, fuck cassie, he was plotting for you. you’re the most perfect girl that he could’ve ever asked for.

labels. y/n is used , she her pronouns used. nate fantasizes about you innocently and quite naughty, hyper feminine reader, pet names used, mentions of obsession, praise, & stalking, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. i really recommend reading @annwrites multi - part fic ❝ exactly what he needs ,❞ paired with, yours truly, nate jacobs. as it was inspired by the masterpiece.

nate is in bed, staring blankly at the glow of his phone. it was some mindless scroll through his socials, yet it all felt dull. nothing grabbed his attention the way it used to. not the countless selfies of maddy’s perfectly angled poses, or cassie’s desperate attempts to catch his eye with the glossy smiles she plastered all over the screen.

he let out a breath, locking his phone and placing it face down on the bedside table. his hand trailed absentmindedly toward the blanket, pulling it up a bit to tuck you in, careful not to disturb you.

you were fast asleep beside him, your soft breaths falling into a steady rhythm. nate’s gaze lingered on you longer than it probably should’ve, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face. fuck, you were perfect. it was almost criminal how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even now. no makeup, no posing, no pretending. just you.

he leaned his head back into the pillow, the warmth of your presence next to him soothing yet electrifying at the same time. it wasn’t like when he was with maddy or cassie. there wasn’t that constant tension, that need to control, to manipulate. well, maybe a little. but with you, it felt… different. not better, but more intoxicating.

❝ fuck ,❞ nate muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling, the faint glow from the moon seeping through the curtains.

he didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky. not that it was entirely luck. it took planning, scheming. nate wasn’t a man who left things to chance. no, if he wanted something, he took it. he figured out how to make it his, even if it meant crushing a few people along the way.

and you? you were the one thing he hadn’t let slip through his fingers.

the day nate first really noticed you, like really noticed you, something shifted in him. it wasn’t like with cassie, where she was a fleeting obsession, someone he could toy with to get under maddy’s skin. no, you were something else. something more.

it had been a regular day, or at least it was supposed to be. cassie had brushed past him in the hall, giving him a sad, hopeful glance after their situationship had gone up in flames. she didn’t matter anymore, not really. nate had already set his sights elsewhere.

and then, there you were.

you didn’t even notice him at first, just standing there with a few friends, laughing at something dumb, probably something insignificant, but to nate, it was like the world had tilted. your hair caught the light just right, that glossy sheen making him want to reach out, run his fingers through it. and your face —fuck, your face was everything. perfect lips, perfect eyes, the kind of face nate could stare at for hours and never get bored. you had that thing about you, that girl - next - door vibe mixed with something else, something unattainable.

you weren’t loud, weren’t trying to get attention like maddy or cassie always did. you didn’t need to. you had a natural confidence, something soft but undeniable. your style was all femme, skirts and cute tops, nails always done, everything just ... neat. clean. controlled. nate liked that. he loved that.

it was like the universe had handed him exactly what he’d been looking for.

but getting you? that was going to take work. although not that he ever had any difficulty getting what he desired.

nate spent weeks figuring you out. watching. waiting. it wasn’t stalking, not really, he told himself. he was just making sure he knew everything he needed to. where you liked to hang out, who your friends were, what kind of guys caught your eye. every detail mattered.

he’d show up where you’d be, casually at first, nothing too obvious. he made sure to talk to the right people, make himself seem approachable, even charming, though that part came naturally. girls liked nate. it wasn’t hard to use that to his advantage.

he noticed how your eyes would flick toward him sometimes, just a quick glance before you looked away, trying not to let it linger. it was subtle, but nate knew what it meant. you were interested. maybe you didn’t realize it yet, but you were. and he was going to make sure you realized it soon enough.

a few weeks in, he made his move. a simple conversation, nothing too forward. just enough to get you thinking. he complimented your shoes, your nails, shit like that. small things, things other guys wouldn’t notice but nate did. he saw everything about you.

he could tell you liked the attention. your smile was shy, a little flustered even, and that’s how he knew he had you. it was only a matter of time now.

the days passed, and nate played his cards perfectly. you’d started to trust him, let your guard down around him. you laughed at his jokes, blushed when he teased you, and nate reveled in it. every little thing you did only made him want you more.

he liked how soft you were. how feminine. it wasn’t just your looks, though those were enough to drive him crazy on their own. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you made him feel needed, wanted, like he was the only guy who could make you happy.

he’d make sure you never wanted anyone else.

nate was careful, though. he didn’t rush things. he let the tension build, let you get used to the idea of him being around. he didn’t want to scare you off, not like he’d done with cassie. this time, it had to be perfect.

and it worked.

the night he finally confessed, nate couldn’t hold back anymore. it had been driving him insane, keeping it all bottled up, the way he felt about you. it wasn’t just lust, though that was a big part of it. it was deeper than that, more intense. he wanted you in every way, needed you.

he cornered you after a party, pulling you aside when no one was looking. your eyes widened in surprise, but there was a hint of excitement there too. nate could see it.

❝ i can’t keep pretending, y/n, ❞ he started, his voice low, controlled. ❝ i’ve been thinking about you, about us. for weeks. ❞

you blinked, a soft flush spreading across your cheeks. ❝ nate ... ❞

❝ no, let me finish, ❞ he interrupted, stepping closer, his body just inches from yours. ❝ you’re perfect. everything about you. i can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you. ❞ his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and he smirked when you shivered at his touch. ❝ you deserve someone who sees that. who sees you. ❞

you stared up at him, your breathing shallow, and nate knew he had you right where he wanted.

❝ i hope you understand what i am getting at, i’m that guy, y/n, ❞ he murmured, leaning in, his lips just barely brushing your ear. ❝ i’m the guy who’s going to make sure you’re happy. no one else. ❞

your eyes sparkled, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

❝ nate... i didn’t know you felt that way, ❞ you whispered, biting your lip. ❝ i always thought... ❞

❝ what? ❞ he asked, his voice dripping with possessiveness. ❝ you thought you weren’t good enough? ❞ he let out a dark chuckle, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. ❝ you’re more than good enough. you’re mine. ❞

you stared at him, wide-eyed, but then you smiled —this soft, sweet smile that made his chest tighten.

❝ i didn’t think i’d be good enough for you, ❞ you admitted softly, looking down for a moment.

nate’s grip tightened around your waist, his hand firm as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple. ❝ fuck that, y/n, ❞ he whispered, his voice thick with a mixture of desire and triumph. ❝ you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. ❞

your arms wrapped around his neck as you hugged him, pressing your face into his chest, and nate let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

he buried his face into the curve of your neck, breathing you in, his hands gripping your waist as he smirked against your skin. you were his now. completely his.

and nate wasn’t letting you go. not ever.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[sarah-denial-cq]

What makes you enjoy slave Leia so much? Merely a strong woman in a humiliating, revealing costume, or is there anything more to it?

Slave Leia fixed me.

I don't think I have a lot to say about it that isn't obvious, since I'm kinda stupid. But it's more than just a strong woman being put in a humiliating revealing costume.

First is the in universe concept (uh, I guess, spoilers for like a forty year old movie). It's not just that Leia is captured and put in the bikini. She's captured while in the process of thinking she can be strong and capable, that she can save someone. The outfit and voice changer she used while trying to rescue Han covered up her sex and her weakness. The contrast with that is immense. And when she's caught, people *laugh*. It's a big *joke*. It's not a serious she did a good try but jabba's crack team of security were better. It's like a surprise prank that they all pulled on her. Compare the defiance from when Vader first captures her on the blockade runner in EP IV, when she is strong in the face of capture after a battle well fought, to the face she makes when jabba catches her. No defiance. Just embarrassment, disgrace, weakness, confusion, stupid girl. Sorry I'm kinda masturbating while writing this.

And then she is stripped and put in a tacky bikini with arm bands and hair bands and a collar and leash. Fine. But she is exposed in front of Luke. The one who she was trying to be all tough girl equal around in EP IV and v. He is calm, composed, powerful, which just makes her weakness and stupidity more evident. Of course she couldn't save a man. But one could save her, at the price of seeing her stripped down to a waist and pair of tits.

And that's edge edge that's what brings this into the real world. It completely destroys Leia's character for the entire series. Ask any man who's watched star wars to describe the most iconic scene for Luke and it's idk his training with Yoda or his blowing up the death star or whatever. None of them will say him shirtless and weak and vulnerable in the bacta tank. But ask the same question about Leia and you will get one answer. If it had been her character from the start it wouldn't wreck me quite so much. But it isn't, it's two movies of.building her up as a badass strong independent woman and then haha no you stupid girls who thought this universe took you seriously this is how everyone sees you. The fact that it took away and overwrote and deleted and replaced oh god everything that she did in the eyes of the male audience the film was marketed.to edge is she's literally on a chain looking up at the guy she was pretending to be an equal to just like how I have to be lower and beneath and

And on top of all of that was Carrie's discomfort real world with how revealing the costume was to her professional colleagues it's literally wear this bra and skirt with no panties in front of people you pretend edge are workplace equals wet and pose while kneeling in it for the official promotion materials bark and inspire generations of girls to think that when they attend conventions about their hobbies they should dress up like subservient edge sluts and pose in huge undifferentiated groups for photos and anyways that's part of why I like slave Leia so much thanks for the ask.

[motherstone]

I have nothing to offer atm, so have this: a scene from the Post Rewrite, the poses referenced from frieren, drawn in magma

to summarize: Post Rewrite, Trellis disappeared for two years after the war's end without informing anyone, but it especially affected Emily, who feels like she hasn't resolved things with him, what, with losing control and all and him having to save her. She snuck into Gulfen as soon as she got a whiff of a rumor that he's still alive and in the country, and tricked the current monarch (who was searching for Trellis to neutralize him/prevent him from taking the throne) into letting her in the search, duping him in that she intends to "resolve things" with Trellis.

Thing is, Emily hasn't planned things as intricately, as she didn't account that the soldiers she'd be with would give her hell/attempt to kill her multiple times throughout the search, but as she has little knowledge of Gulfen, is forced to deal with it for two months sticking with them before finally reuniting with Trellis - whom she then greets with a weapon to the face. A fight amongst the usurper's forces and Trellis's entourage ensues.

It's not like Emily is trying to kill Trellis - she's just really mad, he knows that she's mad, and they've always had impromptu duels during the war as a form of bonding/training so neither of the two are in any real danger - she's just blowing off steam, he's allowing her to blow off some steam. Hence, the bored looks on their faces - it's their typical dance. To anyone else though, it looks like she's doing everything she can to lop Trellis's head off and he's desperately fighting her off.

And if you're wondering - yes, Emily had her hair in a ponytail before settling for a braid because she wasn't taking care of her hair. Trellis is the one who braided it for her after she calmed down, and she maintained the hairstyle ever since. He's also the one who gifted her the armor, which was stone-resistant

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 27/? Word count: 3414 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so? Note: Italian is not our first language, we're trying our best to translate the sentences to Italian :)

Previous chapter

Chapter 25. F1 Giggles & Tea... Espresso

"Hello, hello," the blonde hostess said into the microphone, opening the podcast.

The brunette smiled. "Hello, it has been a while," she said, looking at her friend. "The last time was around Austria."

"Phew, before the summer break. And a lot has happened since then." The blonde took a sip from her iced coffee. "First of all, we would like to apologise for our absence."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Some personal things happened, summer break, job switches... However, this podcast is about Formula 1, and oh, my god, there's so much tea to spill. Well, espresso. Because this podcast will be all about Monza."

"Welcome to F1 Giggles & Espresso."

The first twenty minutes were all about what had happened from Austria to Zandvoort: the famous Ferrari sandwich in Spielberg, the chaotic race in Silverstone, the DNF race in Hungary, the redemption race in Spa, and the wet race in Zandvoort. And, of course, the needed drama with some drivers (the partner drama during the holiday and the needed rumours of breakups).

"Let's dive into the Monza madness; it's not only Ferrari's home race, but also AlphaTauri's," the blonde said.

The brunette nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "Even though it is also AlphaTauri's home race, I think all eyes will be focused on Ferrari. They might have a chance to do something this weekend."

"I have to say," the blonde said, leaning forward. "I am quite surprised to see the success of Ferrari so far." She was thinking about her next words. "There has been a lot of drama so far, but they are performing, and unlike last year, there is competition with Max."

"The drama," the brunette breathed. "I don't think I have seen a team with this much drama. The sneers during interviews, the behaviour on track... It almost starts to feel like a drama movie."

"But can I say how calm and polite Matilde stayed during those times?"

"Did she? Or was she just uninterested?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow, considering her friend's question. "You think Matilde was uninterested?"

"I mean, it's possible, isn't it?" The brunette shrugged. "She seemed so composed, like nothing fazes her."

"I think you have to do that because it is known that Ferrari came out of a mess. It was a rough start, but I think she's handling everything really well. Look at the crash at Spielberg; she just called Charles and Carlos back."

"I don't know..." The girl with the brown hair leaned back on her chair. "I mean, I don't think she is suited for the role." She crossed her arms. "She looks so uninterested, but also like she wants to be popular. I don't think she takes her job seriously. I think she's barely working, and I never see her really do anything on the track."

The brunette squinted her eyes, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Do you see Toto working?"

"Well, I feel like he is doing his job right. How often are there discussions in his team, what is shown in the media? And how many of them are affecting the team and the results?"

The blonde leaned forward. "But that's just it, isn't it? Perception versus reality. Just because we don't see Matilde working, which I believe is wrong because she is always working, doesn't mean she isn't. Perhaps her leading style is different from everyone else."

"I can't take her seriously. One moment, she's dancing on a Max song at Zandvoort, or she is constantly laughing, making comments, being popular. And the other moment she's not interested. What is her deal?"

"I think she is very passionate about her job. She's always wearing red nail polish, representing Ferrari. Or she's wearing a red hair tie, or a red bracelet. She is actually having fun at her job and it shows in the results. That moment at Zandvoort, where she's dancing to a Max song... It's just wonderful to see she isn't afraid of showing her fun and excitement at work," the blonde defended Matilde. "She's young, she leads a team her own way, and it works. After Zandvoort, Max has 233 points, Charles has 183 points, Carlos has 179 points, and Checo has 106 points. Red Bull currently has 339 points and Ferrari 362. If we take last year's results, Max was leading with 310 points, Charles had 201 points, Checo had 201 points, and Carlos had 175 points. Red Bull was leading with 511 points and Ferrari 376."

"Hmm-hmm. I haven't heard your point yet. I conclude that Ferrari is not doing a much better job so far."

"You'd think that. But Max has 90 points less than last year, Checo has 95 points less, Charles has 11 points less, and Carlos has four points more. Ferrari is doing a better job, keeping the points away from Red Bull."

The brunette slowly nodded and sighed. "The point of winning a championship is actually to win as many races as possible. Not to keep points away from each other."

"Taking the points away from the opponent or collecting as many points as possible is both a strategy," the blonde replied and raised her eyebrows, dropping an imaginary bomb.

"Maybe," the brunette said, running a hand through her hair. "For some reason, it's just hard for me to shake off the feeling that she's not cut out for the job. But we will see. Let's see how things play out at Monza. If Ferrari performs well - because Monza and Ferrari don't go together for some reason - then maybe we can give Matilde the benefit of the doubt."

"You," the blonde replied. "You will give her the benefit of the doubt. I think she's slaying, absolutely nailing it so far, and is an absolute girlboss. And it isn't just Matilde who is Ferrari, she has two drivers and an entire team around her."

"But she's on the top of it. If a team doesn't perform right, the first one who will be out is the trainer or leader - football-wise." The brunette shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

The discussion ended, and they switched to a new topic. The two best friends weren't afraid to discuss or share their opinions, even though they would clash with one another.

* * *

Wednesday is only two days away from the weekend. And the day contained stress, pressure, and pure chaos at Ferrari HQ. Many meetings were planned, the drivers were present at the factory for the entire day to fine-tune the car, and everyone was working twice as hard. This had to be their weekend. And they didn't want to have a mediocre weekend; this was about getting everything or nothing.

Matilde came back from a meeting and got into her office. She put her laptop on her desk and let herself fall into the chair. Her brain started to turn into jelly; nothing made sense anymore. With a tired sigh, she ran her hand through her hair. The morning meeting had been particularly gruelling, filled with endless discussions and strategic planning sessions that seemed to stretch on forever. Monza was coming up; everyone basically worked towards this weekend for a year straight. And to top off the meeting, Matilde had a midterm interview, and they cranked up the pressure for Matilde to perform extra well at their home race.

She turned on her computer, and her agenda popped open. A relieved sigh left her mouth when she saw she had no meetings scheduled for the upcoming two hours. It was a rare moment of calm in the team's chaos. Leaning back in her chair, Matilde closed her eyes momentarily, allowing herself to simply breathe.

You know what, she thought, I'm gonna lunch outside of the factory. Matilde logged out and got up from her chair. She doubted taking her work bag with her, but decided not to take it to the lunch spot. All she had to take with her was her phone, wallet, sunglasses, sunscreen and a book. She concluded she had to take a bag with her, so she found a tote bag in her desk drawer.

"I'm going out for lunch," Matilde told Galileo while standing before her desk.

"As you should," Galileo smiled. "How was the meeting?" He leaned back in his chair.

"'Matilde this. Matilde that.' Too much information to keep up with. And it's intense," she breathed. "Matilde just needs an hour off," she emotionlessly smiled.

He smirked. "Welcome to the hell week. Go enjoy your lunch. Rest and recharge well for this week," he said.

"Grazie," she said. "Go take a break, enjoy the sun in peace." Matilde walked through the department and passed the department canteen. "Hey," she greeted her drivers, hanging against the standing table.

"Hello," Carlos said.

Charles turned around, his face lightening up by her presence. It would be the first time they would see each other since Sunday. "Hey," he smiled. "Where are you going?"

"Out for lunch. Want to join?"

His eyes lit up with genuine interest at the invitation. "I'd love to, but I don't think we will get out alive."

Carlos agreed. "It's hectic out there. They say there have been fans here since seven this morning."

Matilde looked impressed. "It feels like we're royals or something."

"This week, we are," Carlos snorted.

"But anyway, I know a secret escape from this park, avoiding everyone. But it's up to you," she offered, leaving the decision up to her drivers. "I'm taking the bike; it's easier to avoid crowds. I'm sure you can ride a company bike for an hour." She waited for a reaction with a warm smile on her face. The Ferrari park was huge, so there were bikes to share within the park to move more efficiently and quickly.

Charles and Carlos exchanged glances, considering Matilde's proposition. The thought of escaping the chaos inside and outside the office was appealing. Carlos raised his eyebrows, leaving the decision to Charles.

"That sounds like a plan. Lead the way, boss," Charles said, looking at her gate a few seconds longer than necessary.

Matilde squinted her eyes for a few seconds before she nodded, pleased that her offer had been accepted. Together with the men, they walked to the ground floor and the back of the office, exiting out of the public sight.

"Can I put this in your bag until we get there?" Carlos asked and showed his pass.

"Sure," she replied and held her bag open. Carlos put his pass in her bag, and Charles did the same.

Carlos inspected her bike. "Nice bike. This isn't one of ours, right?"

Matilde placed her bag in the basket, which was attached to the steer of her bicycle. "Nope, this is my own bike."

"Did you cycle from your home to here?" Charles asked, knowing that would take about 45 minutes.

She nodded. "For days like this, cycling after work is like therapy." She was wearing a blue shirt as a jacket with a white top underneath, so she slipped the shirt off since it would be more pleasant during the bike ride to the cafe. "Ready?" Matilde called out, a playful glint in her eyes.

"You're making it sound like we're about to start a massive mission," Carlos smirked, putting his sunglasses on.

"It's an adventure, Carlos. You have to be ready for it," Charles said, also putting on his sunglasses.

Matilde couldn't help but smile. It was spontaneous, and she liked it. It reminded her of the bike rides with her brothers back home in Denmark. They pedalled away from the main building. Matilde navigated them through the factory park, finding the 'secret' backdoor exit.

As they rode through nature, Matilde couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation wash over her. With each paddle stroke, she felt the weight of the horror meeting lifting from her shoulders. She used to cycle a lot back in Denmark, but she never really realised how comforting it could be. It even made her chuckle; she never thought she would love to cycle for fun.

Matilde led the way; she scanned the surroundings and enjoyed the warm sun on her skin.

Despite their silence, there was an unspoken understanding that they were all enjoying this moment. Charles's face rested with a relaxed look. Carlos was recharging, and they were glad they had left the office.

Eventually, they reached their destination. The cafe was located on the border of a small village, so it was quite an unknown spot—but once you knew, you knew. The owners prefer to advertise by word of mouth, so it stays local.

The three people parked their bikes and made their way to the entrance, a shed. It looked like the cafe owner had renovated the shed in their backyard to start a cafe. Carlos and Charles were leading, also taking in the new surroundings and being impressed by the small place.

Charles saw the waitress behind a coffee machine. He put his sunglasses on his hair and was about to greet her so he could take the lead. But before he could say anything, the woman cut him off, whose eyes lit up when she saw the guests.

"Matilde, ciao!" the young woman greeted. She seemed to know Matilde. "È bello vederti qui. Come stai?" (Matilde, hello! It's nice to see you here. How are you?)*

Charles closed his mouth and looked at the young woman and then at Matilde. Carlos raised his eyebrows and expected Matilde to go into full panic mode. Also, they both expected a crazy 'omg, you are Leclerc, Sainz and Jørgensen' attack by the look the woman gave, but that didn't happen as well.

"Ciao, Cecilia," Matilde brightly smiled. Cecilia walked around the counter and kissed Matilde on the cheek. "Bene, grazie. Sono occupato al lavoro adesso. E tu, come stai?" Matilde felt proud. She was aware that Charles and Carlos were beside her, and she also was aware that she never spoke Italian around them. (Hi, Cecilia. Fine thanks. I'm busy at work now. And how are you?)

"Bene, bene. È una mattinata molto tranquilla, per fortuna. Oh, grazie per aver aiutato mia nonna con la spesa. Ama la tua compagnia," Cecilia said. (Very well. It's a very quiet morning, fortunately. Oh, thanks for helping my grandmother with the groceries. She loves your company)

"Sí, certo, non è un problema," Matilde told her. "lo aspetto sempre con ansia." (Yes, of course, it's not a problem. I always look forward to it.)

Impressive looks grew on Carlos and Charles' faces, and they looked at each other, not expecting this. What else was she hiding? Since when could she hold a conversation in Italian?

"Ancora, grazie," Cecilia said and then she looked behind Matilde. "Como posso aiutarla?" (Thank you again. How can I help you?)

"Ah, sí," Matilde nodded. "Avete un tavolo per tre, per favore?" (Oh yes. Do you have a table for three please?)

"Certo, abbiamo un tavolo fuori,," Cecilia suggested. (Of course, there's a table outside)

"Perfetto, grazie," Matilde thanked her. (Perfect, thanks)

They walked over to a free table. The only other people present were two elderly men who didn't even seem to bother to look at the trio.

"Hello, since when do you speak Italian this well?" Carlos asked, as he took it very personally.

Matilde only proudly smiled; it started off as a confident smile but slowly turned into a shy smile because both the guys proudly looked at her. "Well, yeah, I've been practising. But this is all I know, so please, no complicated questions."

He held up his hand. "Very good, mate," he said.

She gave Carlos a high five. "Grazie."

"You will get there," Charles smiled. "How do you know this spot?"

"Cecilia is the grandchild of my neighbour. And once a week, I will do the groceries together with my neighbour and visit this cafe for her grandchild. Her grandmother also helps me with Italian, so yeah," Matilde shared.

"That is adorable."

At first, the ambience between the three was a bit stiff. They had ordered a drink and something to eat, but they didn't know what to talk about for some reason. Within Ferrari, there was an unspoken rule not to discuss anything about racing when you would lunch outside of the factory. But if you had lunch planned for work, then it was obviously standard to talk about work. Matilde looked around, enjoying the sun, while Charles and Carlos were unsure what to say. They looked at each other, waiting for the first one to say something.

"Who will you bring to the race?" Matilde then asked when the coffees were served. She softly gasped. "Or is that a race-related question?"

"Well..." Carlos hummed. "It's a close call." He smiled. "The usual," was his answer. "My family and girlfriend."

Matilde nodded. "Sweet," she smiled and shifted her eyes to Charles, waiting for his answer.

"My family, as well; mum and brothers. And, of course, Joris and some other friends," he replied. "Well, Arthur has to race, obviously."

"And what about you? Will your family be there?" Carlos curiously asked.

Charles observed Matilde. "I've never seen your family at the track before."

An awkward laugh left her mouth. "Yeah, that's true. My oldest brother went to Silverstone, but that didn't really happen. And my dad was at Spa with me. But my entire family will be at Monza, so I'm really looking forward to that."

"Why haven't they been at a race before? If you don't mind me asking," he continued to ask. Matilde barely shared anything about herself; she was really private. It was not like Charles was noisy, but he was curious since she had met his family, Carlos' family, and other families.

"They have to work," she replied and shrugged. "They can't take a random weekend off and travel to another country. Plus, they have their own responsibilities."

"Oh, yeah, I get it. What do they do for a living?" Carlos asked.

A smile curved on Matilde's lips, the question cheered her up, distressed her a bit. Talking about her family made her proud. "My mother is a senior flight attendant, my father is a history professor at the university, Jens works for the army, and Lars is a press officer and a teacher at the uni for a communications study."

"Wow, that's interesting. I didn't expect that," Carlos replied. "I don't know what I expected, though," he laughed. Matilde and Charles laughed along with him. "I'm happy they will be there for you."

They chatted for a bit longer about their families, keeping the conversation light and easygoing. Then, their lunch was served.

Carlos got up and excused himself when he had to go to the toilet.

"Oh," Matilde mumbled when she felt the sunburn on her skin. She reached for her bag and grabbed the sunscreen. Charles looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "My Danish skin is not made for this Italian sun," she said.

"Still not used to it?" Charles asked.

"I'm almost used to the heat now, but my skin refuses to do that," she said, spraying some sunscreen on her arms and neck. even though it wasn't sunscreen for her face, she put some of it on her face. Matilde passed the bottle over to Charles. "I know it's Ferrari week, but let's not make it physical." She noticed that Charles was kinda confused about why she handed the bottle to him. "You need protection, too, Charles. Even if you are already tanned."

He looked impressed at her, but he showed a warm smile.

"And I've seen some summer photos of you on Instagram... Ferrari style," she cheekily said.

"So you look at my Instagram?"

"Your posts show up on my feed, yes," she mumbled, looking away from him. The way he smiled at her, made her blush.

"Hah," Charles said, putting on some sunscreen. "For you, I will do it." He took off his sunglasses so he could put some on his face.

"I'm glad." Matilde looked at him. "You have some..." She pointed at her own cheek, but she pointed out the sunscreen on Charles' cheek.

Charles rubbed his fingers under his cheek. "Gone?"

"No," she chuckled. "Come here."

She leaned over the table and gently wiped the sunscreen off his cheek with her thumb. Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still for a moment.

"Thanks," Charles said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matilde nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anytime."

Just as quickly as the electricity between them appeared, the moment passed, and they both pulled away. Charles cleared his throat, put on his sunglasses and continued his lunch. Matilde looked down and put on her sunglasses again. There was silence between them, not knowing what to say now. Matilde almost didn't remember how to breathe normally without sounding weird.

Carlos returned, seeing the awkwardness between Matilde and Charles. He flashed them a curious look. Matilde gave Charles a side eye; to her surprise, Charles did the same.

"So, what did I miss?" Carlos asked, taking his seat again.

"Nothing, really," Charles replied.

"Here," Matilde said, giving Carlos the bottle of sunscreen. "Protect yourself from the sun."

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees

[send-me-a-puffalope]

OMG WAIT ANOTHER PERSON THAT KNOWS OF AMY HUGHES' EXISTENCE?? I love when people acknowledge the wet cat

the duality of woman 👁️👁️ (i use the same like 4 images whenever i post/talk about amy even tho i have like a whole album of photos)

BRO I WAS LIVE BLOGGING WATCHING DEAD OF SUMMER TO THREE OF MY FRIENDS— is it recent? no. is it well written? not particularly. but is Amy Hughes so so so so so so so good as a twist villain??? ABSOFRUITLY.

like i knew the ending going into the show right. but halfway through i was doubting my own knowledge like no fucking way Amy isn’t actually just a really good person with so much anxiety and so much misfortune. WRONG. MURDERER! COMMITTED ATROCITIES! MADE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL! (i’m so into her)

[shiqingxuanz]

ranwan wip

[whatever-dude]

He was made for the girlies

[buntsukim]

concept doodles. clint is my gorgeous son but hes also terrible and i eant jim dead and buried 6ft under

also saying this now connor isnt trans hes a cis guy clint is just an idiot. hes like a trans ally but sort of like "her pronouns are he/him" kind

[seventh-district]

IRL photos jumpscare

[tokyohobi]

i wish people would actually learn what the term "pick me" means and stop using it everytime a female idol does the SMALLEST thing 😭😭 i'm sorry but it's so damn annoying

[adriartts]

saw an image. have a him